‘I’ll be fine.’ My voice softened. This wasn’t his fault. It was my mess. My lies. ‘Thanks for coming to find me. It was kind of you.’
‘It was the least I could do. I didn’t know how you felt. You said… If I’d known, maybe I’d have…’
‘Maybe you’d have what?’ I asked gently when he tailed off. ‘You’d have stayed with me and made yourself love me in return? We both know that’s not how it works. You and Chloe were made for each other. I think you were meant to meet me so that you could meet her.’ I’d always believed in fate and destiny and this made sense to me. The universe had been cruel to me to be kind to two of the people I loved the most.
‘I’m sorry,’ James said.
‘Me too. But I’m sorrier for the way the truth came out. Seriously, how is Chloe?’
He necked the rest of his drink and swayed for a moment before steadying himself against the wall. ‘Pretty upset. Putting a brave face on it. I’m sure she’ll come round. Be better in the morning.’
‘I hope so. You will try to get her to see reason, won’t you?’
James nodded. ‘Have to. All my fault.’
‘It’s nobody’s fault. It’s just…’ I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what it was anymore. ‘Thanks for checking on me. It means a lot. Now get back to your wife and your guests and let me get some sleep.’
James smiled tenderly at me. ‘You’ll find someone else and he’ll be so much better for you than I ever was.’
My heart raced. Someone else? Better than James? He really had no idea, did he? I smiled weakly.
Then he winked. ‘Well, better than me might not be possible. Nobody else could have my charm, good looks or witty repartee.’ He pulled a comical face at me.
‘You always did know how to make me laugh,’ I said, smiling.
‘A hug to say how sorry I am?’ he suggested, looking at me with sad puppy dog eyes as he stretched out his arms. ‘Please?’
‘Go on, then.’ I stepped into his hug and lightly kissed him on the cheek. ‘Congratulations, James. You two are going to be so happy together.’
‘Oh my God! You just can’t help yourself.’
Dropping my arms to my side, I twisted round to face Chloe.
She tightened her fists into balls, clenched her jaw and glowered at me. ‘I missed you tonight. I decided I might have overreacted so I came to say sorry, but it seems I wasn’t overreacting at all.’ The coldness in her voice made me shudder.
I glanced at James, willing him to support me, but he was leaning against the opposite wall once more, head hanging. Begging him to tell the truth – that he’d come to find me – wasn’t going to do their marriage any favours.
‘It was just a congratulations hug.’ I held out my hands towards her, beseeching her to believe me.
She pressed her fingers to her temples and clenched her teeth before shouting at me, every single word drawn out for emphasis. ‘You were kissing. I saw you.’
‘It was on the cheek. It was a congratulations kiss. That’s all.’ I kept my voice low, hoping to calm her. It didn’t work.
‘And if I hadn’t appeared, it’d just have been a congratulations kiss on the mouth, and then a congratulations fumble…’
‘Chloe! I’m telling the truth.’ I took a step closer to her but she put her hand up to stop me.
‘I don’t think you know what the truth is anymore, Samantha.’
I winced at her full use of my full name for the second time that evening.
‘Thanks for ruining my wedding day.’ With a final withering look, she grabbed James’s arm and stormed down the corridor with him.
14
There were thankfully no wedding guests around when I left the hotel at seven the following morning. Huddled in the back of the taxi with my overnight bag on the seat beside me, I felt like a criminal fleeing the scene of the crime.
The driver waited for me in the farmyard at Hedgehog Hollow while I let myself in with the spare key I’d found hidden under a stone hedgehog. There was no sign of Tabby in the cloakroom but the moment I ripped open a food pouch, she dived through the cat flap, purring.
‘I wish you could tell me your name,’ I said, watching her gobbling her food.
It was so quiet in the house and so far away from the people who were angry with me that I could happily have stayed there all day. Sighing, I left Tabby, locked up, hid the key, and instructed my driver to take me to Whitsborough Bay.
I knew it would be coming but it still hurt when Mum tore a strip off me as soon as she and Dad arrived home late that morning. Apparently I was a jealous homewrecker. I sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen while she vented, trying not to react. I’d learned it was easier just to sit there and take it.
Dad repeatedly attempted to intervene but she screamed him down each time. Eventually she ran out of steam and insults, grabbed her bag and stormed out, presumably to Auntie Louise’s.
‘I should never have moved back home,’ I said to Dad. ‘I’m sorry.’
He leaned against the wall, his face pale and drawn. ‘Please don’t ever say that. This is your home. You’re always welcome here.’
‘By you, but not by Mum. She seems to get a little angrier and more detached every day and I don’t know how to make it better.’ I stood up and loaded my mug into the dishwasher. ‘What are you going to do this afternoon?’
‘I need to mow the lawn.’ Dad looked beyond me towards the back garden. ‘What about you?’
‘Reddfield Hospital to see Thomas, the man from yesterday, then Hannah’s. I’ll probably be back early evening.’
‘Don’t feel you have to go out all day because of your mum.’
‘It’s fine. I’d already decided it before you got home.’ I hadn’t. The idea had only popped into my head while Mum was yelling at me, but Dad didn’t need to know that.
A couple of hours later, armed with a bag of grapes and a bunch of bananas, I made my way across the car park at Reddfield Hospital.
I followed the signs to ward three with butterflies in my stomach. If I’d met Thomas during my daily work, I’d have had no qualms about turning up at hospital to check on him, but this felt strange. We had no professional relationship so I didn’t have a reason to be there yet something compelled me to visit him.
There were six beds in the ward and they all contained elderly men. Thomas was on the far right, the top half of his bed partially elevated. His eyes were closed so I hesitated by the foot of his bed. The bruising on his face was deep purple and there was an egg-size lump on his head. He’d clearly taken a heck of a tumble. It looked like his cheek had been glued back together but he had Steri-Strips across the cut on his forehead.
As I stepped closer, the bag of fruit crinkled and Thomas opened his eyes.
‘Hi. You probably don’t remember me,’ I declared brightly. ‘My name’s Samantha Wishaw and—'
His eyes closed and