Then and Always (22 page)

My jumbled thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a small noise coming from the corridor. I froze, straining my ears to catch the sound. After a moment I heard it again: the faint creak of old floorboards giving up the presence of an intruder. I dismissed the notion of “burglar” almost instantly. Another creak, one further footstep on the betraying beams, and then, in the moonlight filtering through the flimsy curtains, I saw the handle of my bedroom door depress slowly. The door groaned softly as weight was gently applied to it. The door resisted. The handle was released and depressed again, and this time enough force was applied to make the door grind against its hinges in protest. Still the lock held.

I waited, my breath stilling in my lungs. Scared to stir upon the mattress in case my movements could be heard from the hallway, I bit my lip nervously, wondering how many more
times he would try and how sturdy the lock was. It was crazy to feel it might actually have been preferable if it really
was
a thief invading the house, instead of my fiancé.

“Rachel?” Matt’s voice was a low whisper, spoken close to the hinge of the door. “Rachel, are you awake? Rachel?”

He waited, and time was suspended. I couldn’t hold my breath for much longer, and if he didn’t abandon his quest soon, he would surely hear the loud expulsion when I either drew breath or passed out from lack of oxygen. Fortunately, neither of those events occurred. After another anxious minute I heard the retreat of his footsteps down the hallway back to the guest room.

HE WAS DRESSED
and seated at the kitchen table when I went down the following morning. An empty coffee cup and an open newspaper were before him.

“Good morning,” I greeted him lightly, in what I hoped was the appropriate tone for a woman who had locked her fiancé out of her room the night before. For good measure, I bent to place a grazing kiss upon his cheek.

“Sleep well?” he inquired politely. My back was to him as I poured a large cup of coffee. I was glad he couldn’t see my face as I replied.

“Yes. Really, really well, in fact. I went out like a light, dead to the world the minute my head touched the pillow.”

Stop, Rachel
, a little voice inside me cautioned; that was way too much emphasis to sound believable.

Apparently he thought so too. “So you didn’t hear me at your door in the night?”

I didn’t turn around, and concentrated on stirring my coffee
so vigorously I was in danger of removing the ceramic from the cup.

“No. Why, was there something wrong?”

He was silent for so long, he forced me to look up. “I came to be with you.”

“Oh.” And when he seemed to want more from me than that, I added, “I thought you were only joking when you said that.”

Clearly not the right response. His silence forced me to say more.

“But we couldn’t do anything. Not here. Not with my father just in the next room.”

“That never stopped us before.”

He was right. I could recall several teenage trips down the corridor, when the risk-taking and fear of getting caught only added to our excitement.

“Well, it’s different now. We’re older. And besides, you know things are still very mixed up for me right now. You said you understood. You said you’d be patient.”

If he’d looked just a little abashed then, I would probably have softened my tone. After all, he didn’t know for sure that I was awake when he came knocking at my door. He took up the paper, folding it neatly in half before continuing.

“I think I’m being extremely patient, Rachel. But I’m only human. One minute we have a full and complete adult relationship, and the next you don’t remember anything about us and you’re hiding in the dark from me behind a locked door.”

Damn. He
had
known I was awake. And he’d still let me walk right into his trap, letting me make a complete fool out of myself. I was suddenly angry.

“Well, I’m very sorry that my getting mugged has been such a terrible inconvenience to your life plan. It certainly wasn’t my intention. Do you want me to apologize for the amnesia too, while I’m at it, or should I just say sorry for not wanting to have sex with someone it feels like I just met a few days ago?”

The realization that he still felt like a stranger to me was what finally got through to him. A spasm of pain and remorse scored his handsome face. He came to me then, and I let him put his arms around me, but I didn’t relax in his hold; I let him feel the tension in me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hair. “It’s just so hard, seeing you, loving you and wanting you and knowing you just don’t feel the same way.”

He sounded so genuine that I felt most of my anger wash away on a tide of remorse. I didn’t remember loving him as a grown woman, but that wasn’t his fault. Quite unbidden, the image of the two of us taken at the Eiffel Tower flashed into my mind. I might not remember the feeling, but there could be no doubt that at the moment that photograph had been taken, I had been completely and utterly in love with him. I groaned softly and allowed my body to relax against him, even putting my arms about his steely torso to hold him close.

“I’m sorry, Matt. I will try harder. Really I will. Just give me a little longer. Just give me time to get … well again.” My heart began to beat like a trip hammer. I had almost said
to get over Jimmy
!

He lifted my chin, holding my face toward his in a way I remembered from long ago.

“Just don’t take too long, huh?”

And then he kissed me, long and passionately, as if to show me what I was missing. And I kissed him back, because I felt
guilty, because I used to love him very much, and because … and because he was Matt.

He dropped his bombshell a few minutes after my father walked into the kitchen with a small “Hrrumph.”

Matt pulled away and looked at me apologetically. “I’m really sorry, Rachel, but I’m going to have to head back to London today instead of tomorrow.”

I was still feeling guilty about how I had reacted, so I sounded genuinely regretful when I replied, “Do you have to? I thought we were planning to spend the day together.”

His look was remorseful but his determination didn’t waver.

“I’m sorry, something important has come up at work and I have to sort it out today.”

“On a Sunday?”

“You know I often have to work at weekends.”

“Actually, I don’t know that. Amnesia. Remember?”

I could have dropped it then but something in his eyes tripped the wire of my feminine intuition.

“Does it have something to do with that call you got from work last night?”

For a moment he looked blank, then in quick succession another expression fell across his handsome face, followed swiftly by a look of regret.

“Yes, it does actually. There’s some crisis I have to deal with that just can’t wait until Monday. You just have a relaxing day with your dad and I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

He left ten minutes later, kissing me goodbye in the hall and shaking my father’s hand. We stood at the open doorway watching his car pull away from the curb in a gleam of chrome and a squeal of rubber.

“What a shame he had to leave so soon,” said my father at
last, when the car had finally disappeared from sight. I knew he wasn’t sorry at all and gave him a long look. But it did make me wonder how many more lies I was going to be told that day.

THE REST OF
the day passed uneventfully enough. I spent an hour or so trying to get my father’s cat to like me, another hour wondering what urgent Cathy-related crisis had suddenly required Matt’s presence in London, and the rest of the time trying very hard not to think about Jimmy at all. The only bright point of the day was an unexpected telephone call from Sarah, who had just returned from her honeymoon. She and David were spending the night with her parents, but we made arrangements to meet for lunch the following day before she and her new husband returned to Harrogate.

I fell asleep that night with something pleasant to look forward to and, for once, was not disturbed by dreams.

We’d arranged to meet by a small bistro in the high street, and as usual I was there long before Sarah arrived. The weather had turned even colder overnight, and although warmed by a thick scarf and gloves, I could feel the December air, heavy with the threat of snow, taking vicious swipes at my face and legs.

And then Sarah arrived, spilling out of the taxi in a tumble of warmth and sunshine that instantly transported me back to memories of our youth. She enveloped me in the most rib-breaking hug, quite a feat for someone a good six inches smaller than me, and it was some time before either of us felt able to break apart.

When we did, the tears that were in my eyes matched those sparkling in her own, and we both erupted into laughter, which was the only way we could stop ourselves from crying.

“How are you, my lovely?”

It took a while to reply, for the old greeting had brought a huge lump to my throat, and my face was still buried in her shoulder. We were getting some pretty curious stares from passersby too, but neither of us could care less about that.

“Still alive, but slightly insane.” I felt that was a pretty accurate précis of my current situation.

“No change at all there then,” she replied, linking her arm into mine and steering us toward the restaurant. “Let’s get out of the cold and you can tell me all about it.” Adding impishly as we went, “Do you know, it’s really much colder here than it is in Saint Lucia at the moment?”

We waited until we were seated and had ordered drinks before speaking properly. And then, when we did, we both began at once.

“So how are things really, have you got your memory back yet?”

“So tell me all about your honeymoon.”

We both laughed and waited for the other to back down.

“I’m sorry,” said Sarah, “I do believe my head-wound-and-amnesia inquiry trumps your honeymoon trivia.”

“Okay,” I said with a smile. “What do you want to hear about first? The mugging I don’t remember or all the juicy stuff that came next?”

Sarah’s suntanned face lit up with delight. “The juicy stuff, obviously.” But before I could commence, she changed her mind. “You know what, I want to hear it all, every last detail.”

“That might take some time,” I cautioned. “Don’t you and David have a train to catch this afternoon?”

She gave a shrug, as though such a trifling detail was of no importance.

“If I’m not there, he’ll just have to leave without me.
We’ve only been married for five minutes—he probably won’t even miss me!”

I doubted that very much but took a long and steadying sip of wine before I began to fill her in on what had happened to me since the night of her hen party.

She listened intently as I spoke, taking it all in, interrupting now and then when she wanted further clarification. She was also much more fascinated than anyone else had previously been by my alternate reality.

“So what am
I
like in your other past? Please say I’m tall, thin, and beautiful. Oh no, better yet, please tell me that Cathy has got fat and ugly. Now, that really would be something.”

I laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you, but Cathy was even more gorgeous than she’d been when we were younger. Although a good deal nastier, I have to say.”

Sarah pursed her lips wryly. “No trouble imagining that.”

I looked at her carefully. Sarah had never been one to mince her words where Cathy was concerned. I was relaying events as they happened, so I hadn’t yet told her about the call to Matt’s mobile. I imagined she was going to have something quite colorful to say about that.

“So really, this other life you thought you were living was the total pits? Correct? Everyone was sick or horribly scarred or dead? And all the good stuff that has gone on in your life just didn’t happen at all? Have I got that right?”

“In a nutshell, yes.”

“And yet you still went around trying to prove to everyone that you needed to get back to that place?”

“Well, yes.” I could see where she was heading.

“Everyone’s right. You
are
crazy. Did no one ever tell you that when you conjure up a fantasy world it’s meant to be better than the real one—not a hundred times worse?”

Only she could pronounce me insane as though it were merely a charming quirk of character.

“I do know what you’re saying. But even so, I still wanted to ‘go back,’ if that’s the right way to put it, to what felt like my proper reality. But now I don’t. Well, not since the other night.”

“Ooh, did something happen with Matt?” I paused for a long second before replying, knowing my answer would shock and astonish.

“No, Jimmy.”

I swear the suntan literally paled for a moment and her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Excuse me.” She snagged the arm of a passing waiter. “Do you think you can bring us another bottle of this?” She indicated our almost empty bottle of wine. “I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

I DIDN’T KNOW
what I expected her to say when I finally finished telling her about the hotel incident. Perhaps I was expecting her shock or even disappointment at learning how readily I had been willing to cheat on Matt. What I
wasn’t
expecting was her unequivocal approval. “About bloody time.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Yes, I did. But did
you
hear me? He turned me down. He just wasn’t interested. And the following day he could hardly bear to look at me. Now, call me crazy, but in any of my previous lives that’s a pretty clear message of ‘I don’t want to do this.’ ”

“Phah,” Sarah retorted. “That means nothing. You’re the
only person in the world who exists, as far as Jimmy is concerned. It’s the way it has always been.”

“You weren’t there, Sarah. You didn’t see how disgusted he looked. He couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

“And did you ask him about it the next day, when you were coming home?”

“No,” I replied miserably, remembering the awkward car journey. “Neither of us dared to bring it up. It was just too embarrassing. Too humiliating.”

Sarah shook her head. “There’s more to this than you realize. There has to be. Jimmy wouldn’t act like that with anyone, let alone
you
. I know you haven’t seen much of him over the last few years, but trust me on this one. He’s still every bit as much in love with you as he was in high school.”