And now he could go home. See Emmy. Tell her that everything was going to be just fine.
Except, when he opened the front door, he realised that the house was empty.
Maybe she’d taken Tyler to the park or something. He tried calling her mobile phone from the house landline, but there was no answer. Maybe she was somewhere really noisy and hadn’t heard the phone, or maybe she was in the middle of a nappy change. ‘It’s me. I’m home,’ he said when the line clicked through to voicemail. ‘See you later.’
He went in search of his mobile phone. Emmy had left it in the middle of the kitchen table. He flicked into the first screen, intending to check his text messages, and noticed that he had two voicemail messages. The first was Nadine’s from earlier, asking him to call. He sighed and deleted it.
The second was probably work. He’d sneak some in until Emmy got home, and then—well. Then he could kiss her stupid, for starters.
He smiled at the thought, and listened to the message.
And then his smile faded.
I need some space.
Uh-oh. That wasn’t good. Did that mean she’d changed her mind about what had happened between them? That she didn’t want to be with him?
Or had he been right about her all along and she was like his mother, unable to stick to any decisions and dropping everything at a moment’s notice to go off and ‘find herself’?
Feeling sick, he listened to the rest of the message.
So she was going up north. To the sea. That figured. And she’d left the message two hours ago, so right now she was probably in the car. Of course she wouldn’t answer while she was driving. She’d never put Tyler at risk like that.
OK. He’d talk to her when she got there. And in the meantime he’d get on with some work.
Though it was almost impossible to concentrate. The house just didn’t feel right without her and Tyler. Going for a run didn’t take his mind off things, either, and nor did his shower afterwards. And he was even crosser with himself when he saw the text from Emmy when he got out of the shower. Here safely. E.
Just his luck that she’d texted when he wouldn’t hear it. He called her back immediately, but a recorded voice informed him that the phone was unavailable. Switched off? Or was she in an area with a poor signal?
‘Leave a message, or send a text,’ the recorded voice told him.
Right.
‘Emmy, call me. Please. We need to talk.’ They really had to sort this out. Did she want him, or didn’t she?
Except she didn’t call him.
And Dylan was shocked to find out how much he missed them both. How much he wanted them home safely with him.
Maybe she wanted space because she wasn’t sure of him. Maybe he hadn’t made her realise exactly how he felt about her. Maybe she needed something from him that he wasn’t good at—emotional stuff. The right words.
Maybe his mother went to find herself because she had nobody to find her. But Emmy had someone to find her. She had him. And he needed to tell her that.
It was too late to drive to Whitby now. It’d be stupid o’clock in the morning before he got there. But he could go and find her tomorrow. Tell her how he felt. And hope that she’d agree to come back with him.
First, though, where did Syb live? He had a feeling that if he did manage to get through to Emmy’s phone to ask for the address, she’d come up with an excuse. And this was too important to put off. He needed to see her now.
Knowing Emmy, all her contacts would be on her phone rather than written down somewhere. But he knew she was savvy enough to keep a backup. If she had a password on her computer at all, he reasoned, it would be an easy one to crack. He switched on the machine, waited for the programs to load, and typed in Tyler’s birthdate when the computer prompted him for a password.
Bingo.
It was a matter of seconds to find Syb’s address in Emmy’s contacts file. He made a note of the address for his GPS system and shut down the computer.
Tomorrow—he just hoped that tomorrow would see his life getting back on track. Back where he belonged.
AT FIVE O’CLOCK the next morning, Dylan gave up trying to get back to sleep. He had a shower, chugged down some coffee, and headed for Whitby.
He’d connected his phone to the car and switched it into hands-free mode, so he was able to call his second in command on his way up north to brief him on the most urgent stuff he had scheduled for the day. And, with that worry off his mind, it let him concentrate on Emmy.
As he drove over the Yorkshire moors the heather looked resplendently purple, and there was a huge rainbow in the sky. When he was small, his grandmother used to tell him there was a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Well, he didn’t want gold. He wanted something much more precious: he wanted Emmy and Tyler.
At last he could see the sea and the spooky gothic ruin of Whitby Abbey that loomed over the town. Almost there. He didn’t want to turn up empty-handed, so he stopped at a petrol station to refuel and buy flowers for both Emmy and her great-aunt. He managed to find a parking space near the house; when he rang the doorbell and waited, his heart was beating so hard that he was sure any passers-by could hear it. Finally, the door was opened by an elderly lady. ‘Yes?’
‘Would you be Emmy’s great-aunt Syb?’ he asked.
She looked wary. ‘Who wants to know?’
‘My name’s Dylan Harper,’ he said.
‘Ah. So you’re Dylan.’
Emmy had obviously talked to her great-aunt about him. And probably not in glowing terms, either. He took a deep breath. ‘Please, may I see her?’
‘I’m afraid she’s not here.’
His heart stopped for a moment. OK, so she’d probably guess that he’d lose patience with the situation and come to see her, but surely she hadn’t disappeared already? ‘Where is she?’ he asked.
‘Walking by the sea. I told her to leave Tyler with me—she needed some fresh air and time to think. It’s hard to think when you’re looking after a baby.’
‘Is he OK?’
‘He’s absolutely fine and he’s having a nap, so don’t worry. Just go and find her. She’ll be on the east foreshore.’ He must’ve looked as mystified as he felt, because Syb added, ‘Head for the Abbey, then instead of going up the steps just keep going forward until you get to the beach, then hug the cliffs and keep heading to the right. You’ll see her.’
‘Thank you.’ He thrust the flowers at her. ‘These are for you—well, one bunch is. The other’s for Emmy.’
‘Thank you, Dylan,’ Syb said gently.
A cheap bunch of flowers. How pathetic was he? And the only other thing he had to give Emmy was his heart. Which was incredibly scary. What if she rejected him? What if she was here because she was trying to work out how to tell him that it was a huge mistake and she didn’t want to be with him in that way? ‘I, um...’
‘Go and find her,’ Syb said. ‘Talk to her. Sort it out between you. I’m here for Tyler, so don’t rush. Take your time.’
As Dylan walked through the town he felt sick. What if she wouldn’t talk to him, wouldn’t listen to what he had to say? What if she didn’t want him?
There were a few families on the beach, and his stomach