Never Say Goodbye (28 page)

Devastated, angry with the world, terrified, helpless.

Was that really what this woman wanted to hear?

She didn’t have to be too blunt about it. She could always focus more on how relieved she was for Talia that she’d had someone to lean on.

‘Hi, it’s Bel,’ she said when she got through to Yvonne again, ‘I’ve decided I’ll talk to her.’

‘Really?’ Yvonne cried, sounding thrilled. ‘That’s marvellous. I’ll get on to her now and give her your details.’

‘OK. What’s her name, so I’m prepared?’

‘Josie Clark. I can’t say when she’ll be in touch, or even that she will be for certain. It’ll be up to her, of course, and as we’re going into the weekend I don’t imagine you’ll hear right away. The important thing is she’ll have someone to call when she feels ready to pick up the phone again.’

It was Saturday afternoon now, and Bel was so engrossed in drawing up initial plans for the barn’s conversion that she’d all but forgotten her promise to speak to Josie Clark. More prominent in her thoughts at the moment, aside from what she was doing, was the fact that Nick and Kristina hadn’t been in touch, so she wasn’t sure whether she’d see the children this weekend or not.

Each time she thought about them leaving she could feel herself becoming swamped in as much agitation as despair. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the need for them to bond with Kristina, and she could accept that she was standing in the way of that, but to take them to the other side of the world, where she’d only ever be able to communicate with them through Skype and email, was nothing short of intolerable.

They wouldn’t want to go, she was sure of it, but there was no way in the world Nick would ever be persuaded to leave them with her while he took up his new post. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to set up a contest between her and their father. That was in no one’s best interests, least of all theirs.

She just couldn’t help wondering if Nick had given enough consideration to what being separated from her was going to mean for the children. Losing both their mother, and her, in such a short space of time could have disastrous consequences later in their lives. All kinds of problems were likely to start raising their ugly heads: abandonment issues, separation anxiety, an inability to trust, fear of rejection. He really needed to give these matters some thought. It wasn’t that she presumed herself indispensable; she simply wanted to make sure they felt safe and loved, and able to trust someone when they said they were there to stay. There was no doubt in her mind that they trusted her every bit as much as they loved her.

‘And let’s face it,’ she cried when Nick came over later that day, ‘even you haven’t been there for them throughout everything. OK, I’m not blaming you, but someone had to take care of them, explain what was happening and why you went away after their mummy died.’

Nick flushed with guilt. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight at the time,’ he retorted defensively.

‘None of us were, but you put yourself first, Nick, and you’re doing it again. You don’t have to take the job in Australia; you could stay here in a place they know, where they have friends, an aunt who loves them and who you can rely on to take care of them when you and Kristina go off on a dig. Who’s going to do that for you in Sydney?’

Having no answer for that, he shot back with, ‘You accuse me of putting myself first, but it’s
you
who’s being selfish, Bel. You’re behaving as though they’re yours, and that I have no right to start a new life with them . . .’

‘
Of course you do
, you’re their father so you have all the rights, but I don’t think you’re exercising them well. I know this is because Kristina feels insecure . . .’

‘Oh come on, I can hardly manufacture a job offer to make her feel better.’

‘But when it came I expect she jumped at it, and to keep her happy you’re doing the same. She’s not the one who matters, Nick, it’s the children. They depend on you to make the right decisions, with
their
interests at heart as well as your own.’

‘No! What you’re asking is for me to put your interests first, but I can’t do that, Bel. I care about you, and I always will, but you’re not their mother, or my wife.’

‘I’m well aware of that, but do you really think this is what Talia would want, for you to take them away . . .’

‘It can’t be about what she wants,’ he cried. ‘She’s not here any more, and no one regrets that more than I do, but we can’t live our lives based on what she might or might not have wanted.’

‘Why not? She’s their mother!’

‘
Was
their mother.’

‘OK, was, but no one will ever take her place. If you think that, you’ve got no understanding of what a mother is.’

‘I know that if Talia had had her way
we’d
be married and
you
would be their mother now,’ he raged, ‘but I’m not going to let her rule me from the grave. I loved her, I truly did, still do, but we have to move on and seeing you, being with you . . .’ He broke off, silenced by the shock on her face.

‘Are you saying Talia wanted you to marry me?’ she demanded, feeling suddenly light-headed.

‘You know she did.’

Bel shook her head.

Dashing a hand through his hair, he said, ‘I’m sorry, I thought . . . I assumed . . . I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that . . .’

‘What did she say?’ Bel wanted to know.

‘She wasn’t thinking straight at the end, you know that better than anyone, but she kept telling herself,
me
, that you’d take care of us, and that we must take care of you. She wanted us all to be together, but you have to see how . . .
incestuous
that feels.’

‘Incestuous?’ Bel echoed incredulously.

‘OK, maybe that’s the wrong word, but for God’s sake, Bel, you don’t need me to tell you, you look just like her. Every time you speak, laugh, turn your head, make any sort of move, you remind me of her. It’s the same for the children, though obviously they associate it all with you now, and you’ve got to see how difficult that is for Kristina. She deserves a chance and you’re not giving her one. You don’t even try to be friends with her.’

Bel could only stare at him.

‘Try to imagine how it is for her,’ he ran on, ‘knowing that every time I look at you I’m seeing my dead wife. She can’t compete with that, and even if she tried she’d never win, not where the children are concerned.’

‘Tell me,’ Bel said carefully, ‘did you marry Kristina to stop me thinking there could ever be anything between us? Is that why you rushed into it, to convince me that you really didn’t intend to marry me, no matter what Talia wanted?’

The way his colour deepened showed that she might not be so very far from the truth.

‘That’s crazy,’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ve never wanted to be your wife, and if you married Kristina to prove to me that the feeling’s mutual, then for God’s sake, it’s
you
who’s not being fair to her, not me. Do you love her?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

He threw out his hands. ‘That’s not what we’re discussing.’

‘Yes we are.’

His face was tight with anger as he said, ‘OK, at the beginning . . . Everything was so mixed up . . . I don’t think I knew what I wanted, or even what I was doing. I just didn’t want you thinking . . . I was sure Talia had made her wishes known to you . . .’

‘Don’t you think I’d have told you if she had?’

‘I don’t know. All I know is that when you never said anything I assumed you were waiting, expecting me to . . .’ He broke off, clearly not wanting to put his mistake into any more words.

‘Kristina and I have talked about it,’ he continued, ‘and she understands that it wasn’t the same for me as it was for her when we met, but it is now. And that’s what’s important. I
want
to spend my life with her, and she wants to be every bit as much of a mother to Oscar and Nell as she will be to the children we might have together. As long as they’re as attached to you as they are, that’s not going to be possible.’

Bel’s heart was aching with the pain of his words.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said raggedly, ‘I realise how hard this is for you; it is for me too, but when this job came up, it was as though something out there was offering me the answers I’d been looking for.’

‘You mean a way of escaping me?’

‘Please don’t see it like that. You’ll always be a very special part of our lives, and I don’t want that to change . . .’

‘How can it not when you’re going to be over ten thousand miles away?’

Since he couldn’t answer that, he didn’t try.

Realising how close she was to breaking down, she forced herself to say, ‘I think you should go now. Kristina and the children will be wondering where you are.’

‘Bel . . .’

Her hand came up. ‘We’ve said enough for today.’

He continued to watch her as she turned away. ‘Will you come for lunch tomorrow, as usual?’ he asked.

‘I’m not sure.’

‘The children will want to see you.’

‘Of course they will,’ she cried, spinning round angrily, ‘but do you really think prolonging our old habits is going to help when it comes time for them to go? We have to start making the break now so it’s gradual, doesn’t come as too much of a shock or feel as devastating as . . .’ She couldn’t hold on any more. Tears were streaming down her face as sobs shook her body.

‘Oh Bel,’ he murmured, coming to take her in his arms. ‘I wish things could be different, I swear I do . . .’

‘Just go,’ she choked, pushing him away. ‘Please. I need to be on my own.’

He watched helplessly as she went to the window. All the years of knowing and loving one another, the happiness and grief they’d shared, the secrets, the pride and the shame, seemed to hang in the air between them.

In the end, he picked up his keys and turned to the door. ‘Call if you want to,’ he told her, ‘any time, and if you change your mind about tomorrow . . .’ He stopped as she put her hands to her head, and murmuring sorry again, he left.

Bel was still standing at the window trying to stem her grief when her mobile rang. Suspecting it was him calling to check on her, she let it go through to messages and continued to stare out at the darkening sky. How many eyes were watching her now, how many ghostly ears had heard what had been said? Only one heart would feel her anguish. In her own, misguided way, Talia had tried to make sure everyone was all right when she’d gone, and this was the result. It wouldn’t have been what she’d intended, or even imagined, that Nick would rush into marriage with someone else and take the children to the other side of the world.

‘You can’t live other people’s lives for them,’ she whispered. ‘And I can’t live yours for you.’

‘It’s what you’ve been doing,’ Talia whispered back. ‘More or less.’

‘I know, but the children needed me. So did Nick, and I needed them. I still do, but somehow I’ll have to make myself let go. It’s going to be like losing you all over again.’

‘Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not here.’

More tears blinded her as their mother’s words closed around her heart. The sense of loss, the shame, the guilt was too heavy to bear, and dropping to her knees she clutched her head in her hands as the terrible grief tore through her. It was never-ending, was always with her and nothing she did would ever make it go away.

‘Mummy,’ she sobbed desperately, ‘I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’

‘Stop, Bel,’ Talia whispered. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’

‘You know it was.’

‘I’m with Mummy now and she doesn’t blame you.’

How fervently Bel wanted that to be true. How urgently she longed for it.

‘Answer the phone,’ Talia said. ‘It might not be Nick.’

Getting to her feet, Bel rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes as she picked up her mobile. It was a number she didn’t recognise. Though tempted to ignore it, she found herself clicking on.

‘Hello? Is that Bel Monkton?’ a tentative voice enquired.

‘Speaking,’ she replied, aware of how nasal she sounded.

‘It’s Josie Clark here. Yvonne, at the breast clinic, gave me your number.’

‘Oh, yes, that’s right,’ Bel said, managing to pull herself together. ‘I’m glad you rang. Would you like to meet?’ Was she saying this too quickly? Should she have asked how she was first?

‘If it’s not too much trouble,’ Josie was saying. ‘I’ll try to fit in with you, but I work on Thursdays and Fridays.’

‘That’s fine, my time is pretty much my own.’ She was meeting the architect and builder on Monday. ‘Would Tuesday work for you? Say three o’clock?’

‘That would be lovely. Thank you.’

‘Where should we make it? I can come to you, if you like. Or you’re welcome to come here.’

‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather come to you.’

Of course, she’d be worried about her family being around. After giving her address and establishing that Mrs Clark would be arriving by bus, Bel said, ‘I can always pick you up in town, if you prefer.’

‘Oh no, no,’ Josie protested. ‘I wouldn’t dream of putting you out. You’re being kind enough already.’

‘It’s no trouble,’ Bel assured her. ‘I just hope I’ll be able to help.’

There was a moment before Josie said, ‘I’m – I’m sorry about your sister.’

‘Thank you,’ Bel murmured, her heart fracturing again. ‘I’ll see you on Tuesday. If there’s any change, or if you need to talk before that, you have my number.’

JOSIE WAS STANDING
outside the gates of the house called Stillwater, feeling anxious about taking her problems into such a grand-looking place. It seemed a bit like bringing chips to a wine and cheese party, or a football programme to a literary evening. True, it wasn’t the biggest property on the street, but it was still pretty posh, which meant the woman who owned it probably was too. She’d certainly sounded it on the phone, not in a snobby, better-than-she-ought-to-be kind of way, but like someone who pronounced all her words properly in spite of having a cold.

Are you feeling better now?
Josie had texted this morning.
If you still have a cold I could come another day.
She was supposed to be avoiding infection while having chemo, though that was going to be a lot easier said than done.