Never Say Goodbye (51 page)

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Authors: Susan Lewis

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary

BOOK: Never Say Goodbye
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Thinking of Bel got her worrying again about the effect Harry returning to his wife was having on her. Though Josie understood he had to put his family first, she couldn’t help wondering if he knew how much courage it had taken for Bel to enter into their friendship in the first place. Josie was willing to bet he had no idea how emotionally vulnerable, fragile even, Bel really was. Even if he had, Josie guessed there was nothing he could do about it; whatever had happened to Bel in the past wasn’t his fault, nor was it really his problem to try and help fix. He shouldn’t have led her on though, and he had, whatever Bel said to the contrary, because Josie had seen them together enough times lately to feel as convinced by the chemistry between them as Bel had been. In fact, the night of the wedding Josie had fully expected a proper romance to spring into blossom; it had certainly looked as though it would. Instead, Harry had ended up killing Bel’s hopes with news that might be good for him, but was utterly devastating for her, and now Josie could only wonder if Bel was ever going to find it in herself to trust a man again.

Bel could hardly believe that more than six weeks had passed since Lily and Jasper’s wedding. In many ways the time had seemed to fly, yet in others it had dragged like a weight she couldn’t shake free. Keeping her mind off Harry and how much she missed him didn’t seem to get any easier – sometimes it felt as though it was becoming a whole lot worse. She hadn’t heard from him at all since the night he’d told her he was giving things another try with his wife, but though she longed to talk to him, or simply to hear his voice, she had no idea what she wanted to say, nor would she ever be able to reveal what was going on in her heart.

How could she have fallen so hard without realising it? How could she have allowed it to happen at all?

‘You had to take the risk
,’ Talia kept telling her. ‘
If things had turned out differently you’d have been great together
.’

But they hadn’t turned out differently, they’d gone precisely the way she’d feared, and now here she was constantly trying to pretend to herself that it didn’t matter, when it seemed to be mattering more and more. Every time the phone rang her heart leapt with the hope it might be him, and the disappointment when it wasn’t felt as crushing as the loneliness she was left with. She’d become so used to him calling, or dropping in, or meeting her at the Grape Escape for drinks, sometimes dinner, that without the regular contact and the humour they’d shared she felt as though she’d been cut brutally adrift.

‘He shouldn’t have led you on,’ Josie or Kristina would say, but Bel honestly didn’t feel that he had. Not once had he made a pass, or uttered a word to make her think he was interested in anything more than a friendship, and though she still felt the chemistry between them had been real, he’d never attempted to act on it. So she couldn’t blame him for the way she was feeling now. It was her fault, and hers alone.

‘You might say that,’ Josie had protested during one of their journeys to London, ‘but your relationship must have meant more to him than just friendship, otherwise why wouldn’t he be in touch now?’

Nick often said the same, so did Kristina, and Bel never had a good enough reply.

Oddly, this gap in her life seemed to be bringing her and Kristina closer together, maybe because Kristina felt there was something she could do for Bel now, when there had never been anything before. She was always ready to listen and offer what advice she could, without telling Bel she had to get over it and move on. Bel was very good at telling herself that, so there was no need for anyone else to be so brutal – she only wished she could make herself do it. It was like she was stuck in a place she could find no escape from.

Thank God for the barn. If it weren’t for the problems it was kicking up all over the place, she’d be wallowing in even more despair. Rarely a day went by when she wasn’t having to source more stone or roof tiles, or sort out a foundation or structure issue, and while she was doing that at least she wasn’t thinking, wondering about Harry.

‘The problem is,’ she’d said to Josie only yesterday, on their way home from a fashion-show rehearsal, ‘I can’t wish he’d come back, because that would be like willing his marriage to break down.’

‘Which would be OK if the marriage isn’t any good,’ Josie had pointed out. ‘Since we don’t have any idea what’s going on there . . .’

‘We have to assume that it’s all wonderful,’ Bel interrupted. ‘If I start telling myself anything else I’ll be setting myself up for more disappointment, and believe me, this is already enough.’

‘You can’t let him make you afraid to trust again,’ Nick had told her last night. ‘The way things turned out is unfortunate, that’s for sure, especially given your history, but he didn’t know anything about it . . .’

‘Even if he did, he was hardly going to turn his back on his wife to spare me, his
friend
, the experience of having everything that’s gone wrong in my life suddenly rise up again like some horrible nemesis. He’s not responsible for me, any more than I’m capable of being the right woman for him.’

‘You have to stop telling yourself these things,’ Nick protested. ‘You’re perfectly capable of being the right woman . . .’

‘No! It was different for Talia, she didn’t have to live with the guilt . . .’

‘And you don’t either. You have to let it go, Bel, or it really will destroy you.’

How easy it was to say the words ‘let it go’, how impossible to make them happen when she was as trapped by her past as she was by the inability to change it. It was always going to govern her, because it would always be there, a quiet undertow of truth sucking all the promise from her world. Never a day passed when she wasn’t forced in some way to remember; even standing here, on the terrace of her house, gazing out to sea, could make her think of the home she’d shared with Talia and their mother. Were they somewhere in that pristine sky now, watching her, reading her mind, waiting to see what she would do next? Why didn’t her mother speak to her, tell her what she needed to hear, instead of staying silently beside Talia, always there, and yet nowhere.

Hearing the shriek of her name she lowered her eyes to find Kristina and the children coming across the meadow with fishing nets and jam jars. Thankful they were there so she wouldn’t have to spend the evening alone, she gave them a wave and started across the lawn to meet them. They’d been digging about in rock pools for the past half an hour, searching for crabs, cockles, blennies, gobies, pipefish and no doubt all kinds of shells to add to the collections at their own home as well as Bel’s. Since Friday was the only day of the week they didn’t have an after-school activity of some sort, Kristina had fallen into the habit of bringing them here on that day, and more often than not Nick would join them later.

‘What, no marine life!’ Bel cried when she saw the jam jars were empty.

‘I caught a crab,’ Oscar told her, ‘but then I let it go again.’

‘Because it pinched him,’ Nell piped up, her creamy complexion reddened by the sun, ‘and he screamed.’

‘I did not.’

‘Yes you did, and all the seagulls started screaming too. We found a nest with some eggs in, but we didn’t touch them in case the mummy seagull came back and didn’t want to sit on them any more. Is Daddy home yet?’

‘No, it’s far too early for him,’ Bel smiled, pushing open the gate for Kristina to come through, while the children scrambled over the stile. ‘Your biscuits are out of the oven though, and should be cool enough to eat by now.’

‘Yay,’ they cheered, and thrusting their cargo at Bel they shot off towards the house.

‘No more than one each,’ Kristina called after them, ‘and take your sandy shoes off before you go inside.’

‘We will,’ Nell called back.

With a roll of her eyes Kristina took the nets and jam jars and went to put them in the shed. ‘Any news yet?’ she asked, coming out again.

Feeling a catch in her heart, Bel shook her head. The question wasn’t about Harry and she knew it, nevertheless he’d come to her mind as quickly as Josie had. ‘There must have been a longer wait than usual at the hospital,’ she said, finding she didn’t mind too much when Kristina linked her arm to wander across the lawn. Mostly she welcomed the friendship, but there were still odd times when she’d feel Talia watching and her conscience would fall prey to a sickening sense of disloyalty. ‘If I don’t hear by five thirty I’ll call myself.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be all right for the fashion show,’ Kristina commented as they mounted the steps to the terrace.

‘She’s been on good form lately, so I don’t see any reason why she wouldn’t be. You should see the way she struts up and down the catwalk, like she was Kate Moss herself.’

Laughing, Kristina said, ‘Is she coming over at the weekend?’

Wishing the mere word ‘weekend’ didn’t conjure an instant memory of the days they’d spent sailing with Harry and his sons, Bel replied, ‘I’m not sure yet. I think tomorrow’s a visiting day so she’ll probably go up to Bristol. Maybe I’ll invite them for lunch on Sunday. Would you like to come too?’

‘I’m sure we would if we weren’t going to see my parents.’

‘Of course. Sorry, I’d forgotten.’ Why wouldn’t this blasted wretchedness leave her alone?

Inhaling the warm salty air as she turned to gaze out over the bay, Kristina said, ‘I wonder how much longer this Indian summer’s going to last? It’s so beautiful today, isn’t it?’

There went her mind again, straight to Harry and how wonderful it would be if she could invite him for a drink this evening to watch the sun set. Where was he now? At the hospital poring over a problem with a patient? On his way home after a stressful day? Flying to a conference somewhere in Europe? With his wife and children, taking advantage of this spell of warm weather? He’d be making more of an effort to spend time with them now, considering what his workaholic tendencies had almost cost him before. She wanted to feel pleased for him that things were working out, and a part of her did, but the other part seemed incapable of lifting her out of this awful decline.

‘Do you think it might be an idea to speak to the doctor?’ Kristina said gently.

Bel turned to her curiously.

‘I’m afraid you might be falling into a depression,’ Kristina explained, ‘and there’s probably something they can give you.’

‘You mean like Prozac?’

‘Whatever helps you get past this sadness.’

Bel’s eyes followed the rise and swoop of a gull. Yes, it was a sadness, so deep and so consuming it seemed to be swallowing her alive.

‘Or what about talking to the counsellor Nick’s been seeing?’ Kristina suggested. ‘We know what a difference it’s made to him.’

Yes, the change in him was impressive, but he had Kristina at his side making his efforts worthwhile, and no shadows from the past to darken his tomorrows.

‘Auntie Bel, your phone,’ Oscar called, bringing it to her.

Seeing it was Jeff she quickly clicked on. ‘Hi, how did it go?’ she asked worriedly. As she listened to the answer her eyes went to Kristina. A moment later her face turned white. ‘Where is she now?’ she demanded. She was still looking at Kristina. ‘OK, I’ll be right there.’

As she rang off Kristina caught her hands. ‘It’s gone to her brain,’ Bel said shakily, and tearing herself free she ran to the car.

Josie had taken a little wander around the church for a while, enjoying the cool air and musty smell, the sun streaming through the stained-glass windows and the roses someone had arranged on the altar. The scent of the flowers had transported her back to when she used to make perfume from the petals as a child. Lily had done the same when she was small, dabbing the rosewater on her neck and wrists before wiggling off down the garden in Josie’s high heels.

During her brief tour of St Mark’s she’d paused every now and again to read the faded lettering on a memorial stone, wondering about the person and where they were now. For a few moments she’d sat in a pew, waiting to see if something unusual or extraordinary might occur. Having received such fateful news it seemed that something ought to happen even if she couldn’t say what she expected it to be, but the air had remained still and no one had come.

She was outside now, sitting on a bench overlooking the glittering sweep of the bay. Those who lived on her side of the hill always said you had to be rich or dead to get the best views from Temple Fields, and they weren’t wrong. Apart from their natural beauty, there was something mesmerisingly mysterious about the endless expanses of sky and sea stretching quietly, sometimes stormily out to a far horizon.

The laden branches of a maple were lending her some shade from the sun, and what sounded like a family of turtledoves was purring and cooing nearby. She watched a pair of gulls riding the thermals, freely trusting to something they could neither see nor understand. How exhilarating it must feel to fly and float as though nothing could weigh you down. When the time came, would she be able to let go like that?

It was a pity she and Jeff hadn’t managed to go for their hot-air balloon ride. The weather had turned against them that day, then Jeff had gone down with flu, and the next available date had turned out to be today. How fortunate she would consider herself if she and Jeff were drifting across the bay now, thrilling at the views below, and having no thought for anything beyond how lucky they were to have chosen such a perfect day.

It was strange how the colours around her seemed brighter, richer, deeper, while every sound was music of one variety or another.

She watched a group of surfers paddling out of the waves, not enough wind for them today, although a flurry of white sailboats was bobbing and fluttering between the headlands, caught in a lively sea breeze. A rib sped away from a landing stage, towing a water-skier behind, while devoted sun-worshippers spread towels on the rocks and shale beach to catch some rays. The fine weather had brought everyone out to make a quick last grab at summer before autumn set in.

She’d come here thinking she might have a chat with the vicar, ask her if there was anything she ought to do during the time she had left to help her with the hereafter, but she didn’t seem to be around. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to her anyway. She might think it was a bit of a cheek, a non-believer turning up looking for answers when she’d never done anything to earn them.

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