Zak drove them through the quaint, chocolate-box country side to the busy tourist stop of Lower Slainton. When he wasn’t changing gear, they held hands.
Lauren rested her head back on the car seat, happier than she’d been in a long, long time. She’d slept so well in Zak’s arms that it felt as if all the tension had melted out of her body.
Half an hour later, they pulled up beside a pretty village green. There was a posh hotel, a stream running alongside the only street, towering oaks providing dappled shade and dozens of people wielding cameras.
They climbed out of the car and headed away from the bustle, following the stream in the opposite direction into the lush, green fields. There were few people here and Zak took her hand as they strolled through the meadows that bordered the stream as it grew bolder and became a river.
‘Happy?’ he asked.
She leaned into his side. ‘More than I ever thought possible. This is a beautiful place. It makes me wonder why on earth I live in London.’
The sound of birdsong filled the air and there was a twitcher in the opposite field to them, his binoculars to his eyes. Despite the warm weather he was wearing a big coat and had a hat pulled right down on his head. Lauren smiled to herself. A good old British eccentric.
They strolled on until they came to the picturesque village of Upper Slainton. There was a green bordered by a row of terraced cottages on one side and a small church on the other. The river meandered through the centre, water clear and sparkling in the sun. Beyond the green was a former mill house that had been converted into a tea room.
‘I think it’s time for some more calories,’ Zak said.
‘I’ve never known anyone eat as much as you.’
‘I need to keep my strength up.’ He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
The Mill House Café was cramped inside but beyond the main room there was a welcoming garden, which stretched out along by the river. An eclectic mix of tables and chairs dressed in pastel shades were scattered about. Zak chose one in the cool shade. Lauren sat down, hot from walking, and fanned herself with the menu.
‘Afternoon tea,’ Zak said. ‘Just what the doctor ordered.’
‘I couldn’t,’ Lauren protested, but found herself strangely hungry. Real hunger, not the knot of anxiety that was usually there.
‘You could,’ Zak countered. ‘What type of tea would you like?’
‘Earl Grey, if they have it.’
‘I’ll be back in just a moment.’ Zak kissed her warmly and then sighed with joy. ‘Don’t go away.’
Lauren squeezed his hand. ‘I’m not planning on going anywhere.’
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he said, then disappeared into the Mill House again to order their cream teas.
An old Billie Holiday song, the name of which she couldn’t remember, drifted out into the garden and Lauren closed her eyes, which were pleasantly heavy, and let the music wash over her. After a moment she became aware that she was being watched and opened her eyes, expecting to find Zak standing there.
Instead, she saw the twitcher on the other side of the river, closer now, squatting down beside a bush, his binoculars trained on her. Lauren sat up with a jolt. Her eyes strained to see in the strong sunshine and she lifted her hand to her brow to provide some shade. The man no longer wore his hat and Lauren was sure that she recognised the shock of black hair. Wasn’t he the very same man who’d been lurking around behind Zak’s cottage this morning?
The man stood up. Oh. Now she recognised him well enough. How could she not? And it wasn’t just from this morning.
And, at that moment, Jude threw off his coat, jumped into the river and began to wade across to where she was.
Chapter 100
I sit on the edge of my bed and tip out the notes and coins from my old handbag. Slowly, methodically, I count out my stash. I have one thousand, five hundred and five pounds. All spread out on the duvet before me.
There’s another five hundred pounds to go to the fund which is my company contribution and which they’re paying direct. Making it two thousand and five pounds in total.
How many weeks before we’re due to go to Peru? How long before I have to come up with the money? I work it out on my fingers.
Am I going to have enough time to earn this all over again? Could I start from scratch now and still muster up another two grand? If we could do the car wash – yes, possibly. From sandwiches and cakes – possibly not. Unless I begin to force-feed all of my colleagues.
What with my foot and now this, I don’t know why I don’t just lie down, roll over and admit defeat.
I want to phone Lauren. She’d motivate me – tell me what to do. But I can’t disturb her. She’s gone away for a few days’ peace and quiet and I can’t burden her with my problems when she has more than enough of her own. Plus she would instruct me to tell Chelsea to get stuffed, and I know that I couldn’t do that to my older sister, not now that she’s desperate for money and, for the very first time in her life, she’s come to me for help.
Making sure the door is closed, I get my travel guide out of the depths of my handbag and prop myself up against the pillows. On pages 170 to 171 there is a double-page map of the Inca Trail, and it’s dirty with my fingerprints. Once again, I trace the outline of the route marked in a dotted red line. It passes more than thirty ancient Inca sites – Runkurackay, Sayacmarca, Wiñay Wayna, Phuyupatamarca. Will I ever see any of these places now? Will I ever step inside the magnificent Inca ruins? Run my hands over the smooth grey stones, so painstakingly constructed? Will my colleagues embark on this trip without me?
I close the book.
Of course they will.
How can I not give my sister this money? Chelsea has never asked me for anything before. I really want to help her out. And yet . . . I push away unkind thoughts about my sister’s perfect life and how this is the first time she’s ever had to endure any hardship. I will help her – of course I will. That’s what family do.
But it hurts. Oh, how it hurts. There’s a keening pain deep inside me and I don’t know what will get rid of it.
Then I cry. I don’t do dignified crying like Chelsea. I cry loud and hard and sob and sniffle and feel like the most wretched person in the entire world.
The door opens and Greg is standing there. ‘I wondered where you were,’ he says. ‘I thought I heard a noise.’
That would be the sound of me dying inside.
‘Are you all right?’ He glances at the travel guide on the bed and his face darkens. ‘Oh. That again.’
I try to get a grip on my tears as I say, ‘I’m not going.’
‘Not going?’
Shake of head. ‘Chelsea needs the money. I’m lending it to her.’
‘Chelsea needs money?’
I know why he looks incredulous. It’s a bit like me saying the Queen or Donald Trump are short of a few quid.
‘It’s a long story,’ I tell him, and I’ll explain it all to him later – but not right now.
I start to push the money back into the old handbag. ‘She promises that she’ll return it. Eventually.’ I’ll take the cash to work tomorrow and Chelsea can come and collect it. ‘But not in time for me to go to Peru.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Greg says. He goes to reach for my hand, but I snatch it away.
Then my anger at the injustice of it all rises to the surface. ‘You’re not sorry at all.’ I stand up and struggle with my crutches.
‘Let me help you.’
‘No!You never wanted me to go.’ I hop/flounce to the door. ‘Now you’ve got your wish.’
‘Annie . . .’
I slam the door as I leave.
Chapter 101
Jude clambered out of the river, struggling up the bank. Lauren stood, hands on hips, and watched him in disbelief.
‘What,’ she asked, astonished, ‘are you doing here?’
Her ex-lover was soaked through. He was dripping all over the grass. If this was supposed to be a Mr
Darcy moment, it had gone horribly wrong. Jude looked distraught, and there was duckweed sticking to his shirt and in his hair. The other tea drinkers in the garden stop with cups halfway to mouths that, to a man, have fallen open.
‘I might ask you the same thing,’ he said breathlessly.
‘How did you know I was here?’
‘It was obvious who you were with, when he didn’t turn in for work.’ Jude flicked a thumb in the direction of the Mill House where Zak was currently ordering their tea. ‘I saw you, Lauren. I saw you drive away with him. I was out of my mind. I had no idea where you might be going. If I’d had my car with me, I would have followed you right away. I tried to get information out of the other guys at work, but none of them knew a thing. Or pretended they didn’t.’
‘I didn’t even know myself until just before we left,’ she told him.
Jude looked unconvinced. ‘Then I remembered that he’d bought a weekend cottage in the Cotswolds. Clearly, that was my starting point. You can find out anything from the internet these days.’
‘So it was you looking over the hedge this morning?’
Jude nodded bleakly.
‘I don’t know why you bothered,’ Lauren said, sounding as hard as she could while inside, her stomach was twisting into knots.
‘You’re sleeping with him,’ he said. His voice was laced with anguish. ‘How could you?’
‘You’ve been sleeping with your wife for the five years that we’ve been seeing each other,’ she reminded him.
‘This is totally different.’ Jude raked his fingers through his wet hair. ‘I had no choice.’
‘You had a choice,’ Lauren said quietly. ‘We both did. And now I’ve made another choice. It’s over between us, Jude. What I do and who I do it with is no longer your business.’
‘I’m going to go in there and knock his head off.’
Lauren sighed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Let’s at least try to be dignified about this.’ Though it was hard to see how, when faced with a dripping wet ex-lover standing in front of her and the scenes with her dressed as a pineapple still sharp in her mind.
Jude’s shoulders drooped. ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I can’t bear the thought of you with another man.’
Lauren didn’t dredge up all the years that she’d been tortured by him being with another woman.
‘Do you love him?’ The look of pain on his face was unbearable.
‘It’s too early to be talking about anything like that,’ Lauren said. ‘Zak’s a good friend. He makes me laugh. He’s single. Available.’
‘And I’ll be available too. In time.’ Her lover flailed his hands. ‘You can’t just walk away from your family overnight. These things take time. I have to make plans.’
‘We had five years, Jude. You had five years.’
‘I’ll leave,’ he promised. ‘Georgia knows all about us now. We can move in together.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Lauren said. ‘You told me that you’d already moved out.’
‘And I had,’ Jude insisted. ‘Sort of. Georgia wanted me to go home and try again. What could I do?’
‘You’re back at home?’
‘Well, I . . .’
‘Did you ever actually move out at all?’
‘I, er . . . it’s not that easy, Lauren. Trust me. It’s not that easy.’
‘Then make it easy,’ she said. ‘Stay with your wife. Stay with your family. Try to be a good husband and a good dad. Because I don’t want you any more, Jude. It’s over.’
‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I can make this up to you. We could go back to how we were.’
‘I can’t do that any more. I want someone full-time in my life. Not just the scraps.’
‘No.’ Jude clutched her arms. ‘It can’t be over. It can’t be. What will I do without you? We can rescue this. It’s not too late.’
Her twin sister had said that this would be their year to turn their lives around, that it was never too late to start living, to go all out for what they wanted. But sometimes it was too late. Sometimes you had to stand back and accept that your moment had passed.
She looked at Jude and something in her demeanour must have told him that there was no going forward, no going back for them. His face crumpled and he sagged to his knees.
‘I’m so sorry, Jude, but it is too late,’ Lauren said. ‘That’s exactly what it is. It’s just too late.’
Chapter 102
Zak came back bearing a tray laden with cups, an enormous teapot and a pile of cakes. ‘They were rushed off their feet in there,’ he said, ‘but I thought I might as well wait. Did you miss me?’
Lauren was still standing, gazing out over the river, watching as the bedraggled figure of her ex-lover disappeared out of view. This time, Jude had taken the more conventional route of the small stone bridge by the café.
‘What?’ Zak said, following her eyes. Then he looked like he was about to drop the tray as he peered at the man retreating into the sunshine. ‘Is that who I think it is?’
Lauren nodded and sat down, heavily.
‘I don’t need to ask what he was doing here.’
‘No.’
Zak put the tray down. ‘I’m flabbergasted.’
‘Me too.’
He sat beside her and pulled her to him. ‘Okay?’
‘I think so.’
Zak poured her a cup of Earl Grey. ‘You must need this.’
‘A double brandy would be preferable.’ When she lifted the cup to her lips, Lauren realised her hand was shaking. ‘It was Jude who was hanging around outside your cottage this morning.’
‘How did he find out?’
A shrug. ‘Put two and two together.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Zak said. ‘I didn’t even think about the possibility that he’d follow us up here.’
‘Me neither,’ she admitted.
All those weekends when she’d begged for a morsel of his time and he’d been unable to get away from his family and yet, when it mattered to Jude, he could drop them like hot coals. It had taken her a long time – too long – but she was beginning to come to terms with the fact that her former lover wasn’t a very nice man.
And she hadn’t been a very nice person when she was with him, either.
‘I take it that he saw us together?’
‘Yes.’ Lauren risked a weary smile. ‘I don’t think he was very impressed.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘He’s very hurt.’
‘I could say that it was no more than he deserved.’
‘I know that you’re right,’ she agreed. ‘But that doesn’t make it any easier.’
‘But it is over?’ Zak’s eyes were dark with concern.
‘Oh, yes. It’s over. Once and for all.’
Zak reached for her hand. ‘Well I, for one, am very relieved to hear that.’
Lauren sighed.
‘A trouble shared is a trouble halved,’ Zak said. ‘Or so my old gran used to say. Want to tell me what’s on your mind?’
‘I can’t go back to work – how can I? But I don’t know what else to do.’
Zak picked at the slice of cake on his plate and avoided her eyes. ‘Perhaps I should have shared this with you earlier.’
‘I’m not sure that I can cope with any more surprises.’
‘I hope that you’ll think this is a good one.’ Zak put down his cup and fixed his gaze on her. ‘I’m setting up my own company – with another guy from the office. We’re going into business against Jude with another regional daily download. But this will be younger, funkier, aimed more at the teen market.’
‘That sounds great.’
‘I couldn’t trust you with it until I was sure that it was definitely over between you and Jude. I’m sure that you understand why.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘We haven’t got anyone to do the sales and marketing,’ Zak said. ‘I’m hoping that you might say you will.’
‘I will.’
His eyes wide
ned. ‘You don’t need to think about it? You don’t need to know your terms and conditions? Your pay?’
‘No,’ Lauren said. ‘You’ll be fair to me. That’s all I need to know.’
‘We’re also thinking of moving the offices out of London.’
‘Even better.’ She could sell the flat, split what equity there was with Jude to repay him for his past contributions, and hopefully, she’d still come out with a small sum that she could use as a deposit on another place.
It would be a blow to Jude, losing two of his best employees, but she had to put herself first from now on. Jude Taylor had been top of her list for way too long.
‘There’s a barn that’s been partly converted, up for sale just near here,’ Zak went on. ‘The outbuildings would make a great office space. If I sell my London flat, I could just about afford it. Do you fancy relocating to here?’
‘It would be perfect.’ Annie would still be an hour away, but this was a truly idyllic location. She could imagine spending her days here.
‘Want to go and look at it?’
‘Do you think we have a future together, Zak?’
‘I’d like to think so, Lauren,’ he said. ‘I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time.’
She leaned towards him and kissed him on the lips. ‘Why was I too stupid to see it?’
‘It was a question I asked myself frequently,’ Zak teased.
‘I will make you pay for that one day, Zak Reynolds. One day, some way, you will pay. But for now I’ll forgive you because you’re so damn gorgeous.’
And, saying a final goodbye in her mind to Jude, she wrapped her arms around Zak and embraced the future.
Chapter 103
I slept on the sofa last night and now – to add to my list of growing complaints – my back is killing me. I couldn’t get into bed with Greg. I just couldn’t.
I hate Mondays. Mid-morning, Chelsea comes to my office. Trying not to show that my heart is somewhere round my knees, I hand over my handbag filled with my cash. My lovely, lovely hard-earned cash that I needed so much myself.
‘Thank you,’ my sister breathes. ‘You don’t know how much this means to me.’
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