So when he looked at me that night I didn’t hesitate. I nodded, pulling him back on to the pillows with me. It felt as though something had changed – there was a level of intensity there that I hadn’t felt since we were teenagers. Afterwards, as his breathing softened, and his limbs grew heavy with sleep, I allowed myself to believe that everything would work out, and that we could have the future we’d always dreamed about.
… ‘Dan wants me to move in with him,’ I said.
Gemma looked at me for a moment, a flash of concern on her face. ‘How do you feel about that?’ she asked.
We were sitting in the dappled sunshine behind the Orangery at Kew Gardens. It was unusually warm for March and we’d both taken off our coats. Gemma had been working at Kew for less than a year, starting as a waitress in the Orangery, and had already been promoted into the Visitor Services and Conference Team. It felt as though everything was starting to come together for us all – Caitlin’s nursing career and upcoming marriage, my journalism course. Since Mum had moved to London too it felt as though we were all together again, as though we were leaving the past behind and getting on with our lives.
Except I never stopped thinking about my dad and I never stopped thinking about you. Some days I wondered what it would be like if you were here with us instead of Dan. And I knew, deep down, that thinking about you, wishing for a present that had been lost in the past, was stopping me from moving on, from getting on with my life.
I heard Gemma sigh in the seat next to me. ‘Do you love Dan?’ she asked. We’d never really spoken about how I felt about Dan before. I’d always felt I would be betraying you if I said anything.
‘I do, yes,’ I said.
Gemma looked surprised.
‘I know, it was a shock to me too. I hadn’t realised I could love Dan without letting go of Rupert first.’
‘You still haven’t let him go?’ she asked.
I shook my head.
‘Maybe living with Dan is exactly what you need then. Maybe it’s time to move on,’ she said. ‘Maybe it’s time to accept that he isn’t coming back and he isn’t going to come in on his white charger to rescue you. This is real life, Jess, not a fairy tale.’
‘I don’t know if I can move on,’ I said.
‘Jess,’ Gemma said softly, resting her hand on my knee. ‘You made this decision – you chose not to go with him. I know you felt you couldn’t and that you needed to be with your mother but remember that was all you. Nobody made you make that choice. Perhaps you need to accept that now and perhaps moving in with Dan will help you.’
It was the first time I’d visited Kew Gardens for years. Do you remember the time Dad took us when we were about six? Do you remember the time we went on our own the summer after our A levels? We bought incense from that shop by Kew Gardens station and visited a friend of yours from school who lived in the biggest house I’d ever seen that wasn’t owned by the National Trust. I got lost trying to find the loo in that house and you had to come and find me. His house looked out over Kew Gardens and later on he’d shown us a way to sneak in after the gates were closed. The incense shop is an organic butchers’ now.
There wasn’t anything in my life that didn’t remind me of you in some way. Arriving at Kew Gardens station that first time I visited Gemma at work brought back so many memories. Whenever I went to see her after that I’d get the bus from Turnham Green because I couldn’t bear to remember us at the station planning our future, so sure of ourselves. Avoiding the things that reminded me of you often helped.
I didn’t avoid Dan though. I fell in love with him instead.
‘So you think I should move in with him?’ I asked, taking a forkful of the carrot cake that Gemma was offering me.
‘Yes I do,’ she replied, nodding. ‘I think you need to move on, let go of the past, let go of what you thought you wanted and get on with your life. Have you got a job after your course ends?’ Since her rapid rise through the ranks at Kew she had become obsessed with other people’s careers.
‘The Ham & High are interested,’ I said.
‘Good, then move in with Dan, be happy, work hard. You’ll forget all about Rupert Tremayne soon enough.’
28
JESS
Over the next few days, in between researching my next book and spending too much time on property websites, I found myself thinking about destiny, about fate and about whether or not we have control over our own lives, our own futures. It was my A level Classics teacher who first introduced me to the Moirai – the white-robed incarnations of destiny from Greek mythology. The concept of ethereal beings controlling our fate has always stuck with me – the image of the three sisters spinning, weaving and cutting the fragile thread of life at a whim is one I have never been able to let go of, no matter how much my adult, logical mind tells me it’s nonsense. The Moirai played a significant part in my second book and it’s one of the subjects I’ve had the most emails about. It turned out I wasn’t the only who needed to put my faith in something beyond my control.
Rupert had never been able to stand my stubborn belief in the Fates. He used to tell me that I used it as an excuse to not take control of my own life. But despite that I found myself convinced that there was a house out there that was fated for us and in my dreams it looked very like the house I grew up in.
The following Sunday, to my surprise, Rupert told me he’d sent Dan an email. He hadn’t specifically said he wanted to meet up but he had felt as though he wanted to do something.
‘I don’t know why,’ he said. ‘But it feels like we can’t move on until we put this behind us.’
He showed me the email after he’d sent it. He’d told Dan about me of course, but there was something about the tone of the email that I didn’t like. Something unpleasant – as though I was a prize Rupert had won, and Dan could never have. I tried to put myself in his position. What if it was Camilla living on that boat? How would I feel? I might tell myself I’d be fine, that it was water under the bridge, but was that the truth?
We were walking through York with Captain later, talking about what sort of house we wanted when the Moirai finally intervened, or the inevitable happened.
‘How many bedrooms?’ he asked. ‘Five, six?’ He was smiling, knowing full well we couldn’t afford a house that big.
‘We’re not millionaires!’ I said. ‘Let’s start with three bedrooms if we can – that way we’ve got a study each at last.’ I was sick of working on the kitchen table or in The Café.
‘And out in Heslington so I’m near the university?’
‘With a roll-top bath,’ I said. ‘I’ve always wanted one of those.’
Rupert was telling me about the sort of houses some of his colleagues lived in, houses that were within our price range, when we bumped into him. Literally. Rupert clumsily walked straight into another man and Captain’s lead tangled around their legs.
I don’t think Rupert looked up at first, he was too busy untangling the lead, but I did, and I watched as Dan looked at Rupert.
‘Well, well, well,’ he said. ‘It’s been a long time.’
I watched Rupert freeze for a moment, recognising Dan’s gentle northern accent instantly. He still didn’t look up, but slowly stood from where he had been crouching to adjust Captain’s lead. Captain himself sat down with a rather resigned look on his face, knowing his walk had been disrupted again, wishing life could go back to how it used to be.
You and me both, Captain my friend, I thought.
I didn’t know where to look as Rupert held out his hand and Dan took it. Neither of them spoke. There was just a minor nod of acknowledgement.
‘I suppose we were bound to run into each other in the end,’ I said to break the uncomfortable silence. ‘York is a small place.’
I don’t think Dan had recognised me until that moment. I saw his face change when he looked at me and then he broke into a huge grin.
‘Jess!’ he said. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ He paused for
a moment, looking at us. ‘Are you two back together?’ he asked. ‘That’s brilliant news!’ He hadn’t changed as much as I thought he might have done. He looked different somehow, I suppose we all did, but his general exuberance remained. He seemed genuinely pleased to see us and to see us together. Rupert on the other hand didn’t seem pleased about anything.
‘It’s good to see you, Dan,’ I said. And it was, better than I had thought it would be.
‘Anthony didn’t mention that you were back together when I saw him at Mum’s funeral. Did he tell you about that?’ Dan asked.
‘I emailed you this morning,’ Rupert said before I had a chance to reply. ‘I told you about Jess.’
‘I don’t check emails on a Sunday,’ Dan replied, still staring at me. I wished he wouldn’t. I could see it was making Rupert uncomfortable, but it was taking all my effort not to stare at him too. I’d forgotten how much fun he was, how he always made everything seem as though it would be all right. I’d forgotten how much I used to love him.
‘Well …’ Rupert began, but Dan interrupted him.
‘Maybe we should all go for a drink or something?’ Dan asked. ‘Catch up.’
‘I don’t think now is a very good time,’ Rupert replied quietly. ‘We’ve got the dog with us.’
‘OK,’ Dan said, looking crestfallen.
‘Rupert’s busy at the moment,’ I said, knowing how much Rupert hated spontaneity. If he hadn’t been ready to see Dan when he sent the email this morning there was no way I could get him to come for a drink this afternoon. I knew he needed time to think things through. ‘Maybe later in the week?’
Rupert looked away. ‘Reply to the email,’ he said. He rattled Captain’s lead as though he wanted the conversation to be over, as though he wanted to go. I knew how uncomfortable he must feel but there was no need for him to be so rude.
‘We’ll definitely see you soon,’ I said. ‘You can tell us all about India.’ Rupert huffed impatiently by my side.
As I turned towards Rupert to try to bring him into the conversation, I felt Dan’s hand on my arm, a light pressure that took me back to a flat on Kentish Town Road, to the days before I was ill.
‘How are you, Jess?’ Dan asked, quietly. ‘Are you feeling better? I wish I could have done more to help you back then. I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s OK, Dan,’ I said. ‘You had to leave. There’s no hard feelings and nothing to apologise for.’ When I looked at him then a part of me really wanted to leave Rupert behind and go for that drink. But Rupert looked over at us and I watched as something inside him seemed to snap and all the feelings of jealousy he’d been keeping under control rose to the surface.
‘Get your hands off her, Kelly,’ he said in a voice I’d never heard him use before. ‘Just leave her alone. You always were an unbearable arse even at school.’
Dan let go of my arm, a look of shock on his face, and I turned to Rupert. I’d never seen him like this – so angry, as though something were twisted inside him. I had no idea his feelings towards Dan were so strong. They used to be so close at school and later on when we were all at university. He made the occasional remark about how much time Dan and I spent together in London but I’d never thought anything of it. He was at Cambridge with Camilla after all.
‘Come on, mate,’ Dan began.
‘I am not your mate,’ Rupert said, his voice raised enough for a passing couple to look over at us.
‘You were once,’ Dan said quietly. Full marks to him for trying but I could see Rupert was a lost cause.
‘Let’s go home, Rup,’ I said taking a step towards him, reaching for his arm, trying to calm him down.
‘No,’ he said snatching his arm away from me. ‘Just leave me alone.’
I watched him walk away, his head down, his hair curling over his collar, Captain trotting along beside him. I felt Dan’s hand on my shoulder preventing me from following him.
‘Leave him,’ he said. ‘Let him cool off. You know he needs some time on his own when he’s like this.’
‘I’ve never seen him like this before.’
‘He used to get like that at school. He’d storm out of lessons sometimes with that look on his face, but all he got for it was a Saturday morning detention.’
I thought about how Rupert had never talked about school. It had always felt as though he was hiding something from me, as though he was a different person when he was there. Perhaps he was.
‘When did you get back to the UK?’ I asked. I already knew the answer but I found myself wanting to prolong the conversation and not wanting to follow Rupert to wherever he was heading.
‘February,’ he said. ‘When Mum told me she was sick.’
‘I’m sorry about your mum,’ I said. ‘I always liked her.’
‘She liked you too.’
An uncomfortable silence fell between us then. Neither of us knew what to say, but neither of us seemed to want to leave.
‘Let me walk you home or something,’ he said.
‘I should go and find Rupert,’ I replied, knowing what would happen if Rupert was already at home and I brought Dan back.
‘How long have you two been back together?’ he asked.
‘Since June. We met up again on a friend’s hen night.’
Dan raised his eyebrows.
I smiled. ‘Rupert just happened to be in the same pub!’
‘And you just picked up where you left off?’
‘No, it’s been a bit more complicated than that.’
He didn’t say anything and the silence descended again. For a moment I thought I would tell him about CJ Rose just to say something.
‘I should go,’ I said instead.
‘It’s been lovely to see you, Jess. I hope I can see you again soon.’
It reminded me of the words Rupert had said at Gemma’s wedding last summer and as I walked home I realised that he hadn’t mentioned seeing Rupert again.
I wasn’t surprised to find the house empty when I got back.
29
JESS
He didn’t come home until after I was in bed that night. It was past midnight when I heard the latch of the front door click and Captain’s claws on the wooden floor of the hallway. I wondered where they’d been. Neither of them came upstairs, and I lay awake waiting for them. I must have fallen asleep at some point because when I woke up the next morning, more tired than I had been when I’d gone to bed, he had already left – the only evidence of him coming home at all was the crumpled blanket on the sofa, the coffee mug in the sink and Captain’s paw prints in the hallway.
I folded the blanket, rinsed the cup, mopped the hallway, and then I waited. He had told me he was fine about my history with Dan, that it was in the past, that I had been free to date anyone I wanted. But seeing Dan again seemed to have changed that for Rupert. He had been so angry, so jealous, and I’d never seen him like that. I had never seen that look on his face before, the one I saw when he was telling Dan to get his hands off me.
Seeing Dan again had changed things for me too. The easy feeling of his hand on my arm had reminded me of how much he knew. Dan had seen me at my very worst, when I was too sick to leave the house. I was terrified of Rupert seeing me that ill, scared that when it happened, no matter how good his intentions, he wouldn’t know what to do.
From what Dan had said about Rupert needing to be alone when he was angry, I realised there was no point in trying to phone him, or text or email. He wouldn’t reply. He would cool off eventually. He’d come home and talk.
I hoped.
I spent the morning sitting in front of my laptop, achieving little, deleting the few words that I did write. Neither Mum nor Gemma were answering their phones and I felt so far away from them, as though the miles between us were making our hearts distant, as though London was just carrying on without me. Which it was, of course.
I had been surprised by how much I missed my old life and how homesick I felt. I’d always thought that being with Rupert woul
d make everything better, but I understood now that the only person we can rely on for our happiness is ourselves. The life I’d had in London was one I’d never dreamed of, one that had come about through circumstance, but it had become a life I’d learned to love. A life of laughter and comfort – I hadn’t felt there had been a lot of laughter with Rupert since we came back to York after Christmas and I wondered if Rupert felt the same.
Sitting around feeling nostalgic wasn’t going to bring Rupert home so I packed up my laptop and headed to The Café.
‘You look terrible,’ Pen said as I pushed my way through The Café door. I was delighted to be in the warmth, as it was freezing, damp and miserable outside, as usual. The weather matched my mood. I was beginning to think we were stuck in a perpetual grey Narnia. ‘Go and sit down and I’ll bring you coffee.’
I set myself up at the table in the corner where I usually worked. Pen joined me ten minutes later with a plate of cookies and a steaming mug of coffee.
‘Vegan chocolate chip,’ she said. ‘Straight from the oven.’ I took one, not realising how hungry I was until I bit into it.
Pen sat down opposite me, oblivious to the other occupants of The Café this busy Monday morning – I sometimes wondered how Pen and her husband made any money at all, especially with the famous café competition in York, but they seemed to be doing OK.
‘Now what’s up?’ she asked. ‘Apart from the usual.’
Pen knew about my ME and took it in her stride when I’d told her, as she did with most things. ‘It doesn’t change who you are,’ she’d said with a shrug. ‘It’s just part of you, like having green eyes and brown hair.’ I wished more people could be like Pen.
It was because of the way she listened without judgement that made me tell her everything. I told her about the previous day, about bumping into Dan and how it seemed to make Rupert snap. I told her about how he hadn’t come upstairs the night before and how he’d left early this morning. I didn’t tell her that seeing Dan had brought up all kinds of feelings for me too. I was trying not to think about that too much.
The Pieces of You and Me Page 16