For the first half hour, I was fine. When he was an hour late, I began to worry. Thirty minutes later, I knew something bad had happened. Thirty minutes after that, Davie Hill arrived at our house, telling us the police had just been to theirs. The car had left the road and veered down a cliff, onto the rocks below. They wouldn’t be able to get down to the car until the tide went out the next day but there was no way he’d have survived the fall. They suspected he’d been rushing on unfamiliar roads and had misjudged a bend in the dark.
The next day, they recovered the car and Charlie’s body. In his pocket was an engagement ring with our initials engraved inside. I’d had no idea he was going to propose.
You know that ring I wear? It’s not my mum’s engagement ring, it’s the one Charlie bought for me.
I never wanted to date again. I couldn’t face getting close to someone and experiencing such an overwhelming feeling of loss ever again and, if I’m honest, who was ever going to live up to the incredibly high standard Charlie had set?
Everyone kept telling me that time was a great healer and Charlie would have wanted me to move on. I didn’t want to replace him but people say things enough times and you start to believe them.
Tim’s posting ended and he came home. Somehow we picked up where we’d left off. We’d often double-date with your mum and dad. One evening I was watching them together and it struck me that they had what I’d had with Charlie and that it was something I didn’t have with Tim. We’d talked about getting married and having a family and I realised that I couldn’t do it. If I couldn’t have what your parents had — or what I’d had with Charlie — I’d rather be on my own. Tim and I split up that evening.
I’ve been so blessed as I’ve not missed out on having a family thanks to you and Ben. Being able to see the sea from Smuggler’s View has helped me feel close to Charlie. I feel comforted listening to the waves and thinking I can hear his voice calling me.
I swore your parents to secrecy as I didn’t want anyone to try and talk me into getting over Charlie and moving on. I’d been there and done that with Tim and I broke his heart. I didn’t want to put me or anyone else through that again.
So, there you go. I’ve loved and I’ve lost and I never want to do it again. One day Charlie and I will be together. Until then, I’ve got my extended family of four who mean the world to me.
You may be wondering what this has to do with you and your present dilemma. There are two men in your life right now and I want you to think carefully about who your Tim is and who your Charlie is…
Tim is someone you care for very deeply and have a great relationship with, but who isn’t your matching heart. Is Andy your Tim who, just like mine, also represents the past catching up with you? Or is Nick your Tim; someone who you feel a strong draw towards but, deep down, you know isn’t the man of your dreams?
Charlie, on the other hand, is the person you cannot imagine living without. He’s the one you think about first thing in the morning and last thing at night, and most of the time in-between. He’s the one who makes you laugh but also makes you cry, the one who gives you butterflies, the one you want to grow old with. He’s your soulmate. You know what this looks like; just look at your parents.
Who do you have that with? Andy or Nick? If it’s neither, then end it with both before you cause you or them more heartbreak and don’t panic about becoming like your Uncle Alan. Even if you stay single, you’ll never be alone like him as you have a family and great friends who’ll always be here for you. If you do choose one, make sure you’re not settling for second best; your Tim.
I’m going to say goodbye now because I think I’ve lectured you enough.
Find your Charlie, Sarah, and hang onto him with all your strength because he’ll be worth it and, no matter what that tape says, don’t let the Steven thing be your guide. Let your heart be your guide xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I wiped my eyes with shaking hands then rummaged in my pocket for a tissue. Wow! That was unexpected. Poor Auntie Kay. I had no idea. No wonder she’d got mad when I set her up.
I was about to type in a reply when my phone beeped. Nick!
* From Nick
Sorry I sent Callie in yesterday but I did promise you I’d stay away. It wasn’t easy, though. I came to town with her and must have walked past your shop 20 times while you were with her, trying to pluck up the courage to come in. But a promise is a promise, no matter how hard it is to keep! I really miss you! Hope you’re happy and Andy is treating you well. Thinking of you, always xx
He missed me? He was thinking of me? That wasn’t a text from someone who’d moved on. Was it? What did it mean? Did it mean Blonde was out the picture? Or that she was never in the picture? Maybe she was just a one-off? But Elise had seen them several times since.
I sat back in the chair reflecting on Auntie Kay’s email, what Mum had said, and my session with my post-it notes. The one common theme was whether I could imagine growing old with Andy. Would he be the one who’d stop me being alone?
I typed in a quick reply to Auntie Kay to thank her for her email, say sorry for her loss, let her know my decision, and tell her I’d email her properly when Andy had left.
Almost as soon as I finished typing, there was a loud knock on the door. Oh pants! Time to face up to things …
Chapter 34
‘Sorry I’m late.’ Andy handed me a small cream bag with black rope handles.
‘What’s this?’ I didn’t need to ask. I recognised the bag as one from Castle Jewellery, opposite my shop. ‘You’ve been far too generous already.’
Andy grinned. ‘You deserve it. Can I come in? It’s freezing out here.’
‘Sorry. Miles away.’ I stepped back to let him pass and gagged as I was hit by an overpowering wave of red wine. Had he showered in the stuff? I followed him into the lounge and hovered in the doorway, wondering what the etiquette was in a situation like this. Should I open the gift and act like everything was fine? Should I hand him the gift back and insist that we talk first? Should I just blurt out my decision?
‘I don’t bite, you know.’ Andy patted the spare seat next to him on the sofa. ‘And neither do the contents of that bag.’
I looked down and realised I was holding it out in front of me like a dirty nappy.
‘Are you okay, Sarah?’
Now there was a question! If I was honest, I was anything but okay at that very moment. I just wanted to curl up in a ball on my bed with Mr Pink and make it all go away. I hated the situation I was in. Absolutely hated it. Whatever I said or did, someone was going to get hurt.
‘Will you sit down and open your gift?’ He patted the seat again and looked at me with big puppy-dog eyes and a pet-lip. He let out a few little whimpers then panted like a dog.
I smiled and perched on the edge of the sofa. ‘Okay, you win.’ I reached into the bag and lifted out a black jewellery case. Inside a stunning silver necklace with a brushed silver rose pendant and matching earrings nestled amongst cream satin. Yet another incredibly thoughtful gift. ‘They’re gorgeous, Andy. I love roses.’
‘I know. I remembered.’
I stared at the jewellery, wondering what to do next. Should I give them back to him and insist we talk? Put them on and talk tomorrow instead when he was a little less under the influence?
Andy saved me from making a decision. He reached for the box and removed the necklace. ‘Here. Let me. You put the earrings on and I’ll fasten this.’
Too gutless to argue, I removed my simple silver studs and replaced them with the roses, then lifted my hair and twisted round so he could fasten the necklace from behind. The light trace of his fingertips against my neck sent a little shiver of pleasure through me. Damn! I couldn’t help it; I still felt something for him. Years of loving him followed by years of longing to be with him weren’t going to disappear overnight, no matter what I felt about Nick.
/> A light kiss on my neck made me gasp. My pulse raced as he kissed me again and ran his fingers through my hair. It felt amazing. But we had to talk. I had to be honest with him. I had to… Oh God, what’s he doing to me? More kisses on my neck transported me back to our university days when he’d kiss my neck and shoulders until I was practically begging for him. It still had the same effect. I wanted him. I wanted him so badly. I twisted round and our lips met with longing and urgency.
The taste of red wine on his tongue jolted my mind from passion to reality. I didn’t love him. I was certain of that. It was only lust and nostalgia confusing my feelings. I loved Nick, though. Even though I believed he’d moved on, I felt like I was being unfaithful to him. And very unfair to Andy. I pulled away.
‘What’s up?’ Andy stroked my face.
‘I need a drink. I’ll be back in a moment.’
Without a second glance at him, I darted out of the lounge and sought refuge in the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc out of the fridge and held it against one flushed cheek, then the other. Phew! That had been really close.
The stairs creaked. Andy obviously needed the toilet, which meant I had a bit more time to compose myself and plan my next steps. Well, they could certainly start with a drink. I unscrewed the lid and poured myself half a glass, which I gulped down instantly.
Andy had clearly had a lot to drink before coming round. I could smell it. I could taste it. I could hear the slur in his speech. How drunk was he, though, because that would have a huge effect on how he’d take the news? He’d never been able to hold his ale. It was possible he’d built up a tolerance over the years, but the Andy I knew at university would get silly, then amorous, then aggressive. Silly — and even amorous — Andy could be fun. Aggressive Andy wasn’t. When I say aggressive, I don’t mean in a violent way, just in a confrontational arsey kind of a way. Had he had enough to hit that point? Would giving him another glass of wine tip him into it? I could hardly go back with just a glass for me, though, could I?
I sighed then turned round and topped up my drink and poured him a glass. My phone beeped. I fished it out of my pocket and frowned at the name on the screen. A text from Andy? What the…?
* From Andy
Hurry up. I’m all ready for you :) xx
I shook my head as I put the phone back in my jeans pocket. A hallway separated us yet we were communicating by text. It struck me as quite ironic as text had become our only form of communication in our last couple of weeks together, although Andy’s texts back then had lacked the kisses and smiley faces.
What did he mean by, ‘I’m all ready for you’? Ready for what? My stomach sank. No! Don’t say Amorous Andy is here. Don’t let him be…
I pushed the lounge door open with my foot. Empty. I remembered the creak on the stairs. Oh no. Don’t say… I gingerly made my way upstairs, still holding the drinks. Heart thumping, I pushed open my bedroom door and gasped at the sight of Andy, stark bollock naked, sprawled out on the bed.
‘Andy! What are you doing?’
‘Waiting for you,’ he said. ‘You’re a bit over-dressed, Sarah. But we can soon rectify that.’ He patted the bed beside him and did a little growl. I think he was aiming for sexy. He fell a little short. I tried to turn my laugh into a cough in case Aggressive Andy made an appearance.
‘Are you coming here or do I have to come and get you?’ He winked but it made him look psychotic rather than seductive.
I wrinkled my nose as I put the drinks down on the bedside table. ‘Would you put some clothes on first?’
‘Why?’ He squinted at me as if struggling to focus.
‘Because I thought you’d come round so we could talk. Not to… you know.’
‘We can talk after. Little Andy’s ready for his reunion.’
Little Andy? No, no, no, no, NO! We’d never used a pet name before, had we? Surely I’d have remembered. ‘Andy! Please.’
He frowned. ‘But I thought this was what you wanted, Sarah. You seemed pretty keen downstairs.’
He was right and it had been very unfair of me. That kiss had definitely been of the ‘take me to bed right now’ variety but I absolutely couldn’t see it through. ‘Sorry. I can’t, Andy. Erm…’ I fished around for an excuse. ‘Not in Auntie Kay’s bed.’
‘Downstairs then?’
I shook my head. ‘I can’t.’
He stared at me for a while then looked down. ‘Okay. You win. Little Andy’s gone to sleep now anyway. I’ll put my kecks on.’
‘And your shirt? And maybe your trousers?’ I couldn’t stay and watch. ‘I’ll just make us some coffee and meet you back in the lounge.’
When I entered the lounge with two mugs of coffee, Andy was there and had thankfully replaced his shirt and trousers although I could see that he’d brought the glasses of wine down and had already polished off his. And half of mine. Great! Just what he needed; even more alcohol!
‘What do you want coffee for?’ he slurred. ‘Have some wine.’ Then he giggled. ‘Oh, I’ve already drunk most of yours. May as well have the rest.’ Before I could protest, he’d picked up my glass and taken a few swigs.
‘To us.’ He clinked his glass against my mug then gave me a lopsided grin and patted the sofa again. ‘I promise not to jump on you if you sit down.’
I tentatively sat down on the sofa as far from him as I could manage without sitting on the arm.
‘I have to say that I’ve quite enjoyed my week in Whit- Whits- The Bay,’ Andy said, ‘but I’m soooo glad it’s over. Couldn’t live in the sticks for long. Don’t know how you’ve coped with it these last few months.’
I prickled at the use of the word ‘coped’. Was he being rude? Smile politely. It was probably just a bad choice of word whilst under the influence. He won’t have meant anything by it.
‘I never wanted to move back here,’ I said, trying to keep my voice light and casual, ‘but I’m glad I did. I think living in London has made me appreciate it more. People go on about how much there is to do there but there’s so much to do here too. We’ve got the sea, the countryside, the moors, stacks of pretty villages and market towns, and it’s only an hour to York. We’ve got a good cinema, great pubs and friendly people. What more could I want?’
Andy laughed. ‘You sound like an advert for “Visit Yorkshire”. Have you swallowed a brochure?’
I slurped on my coffee. ‘I’m just telling you what I think of the place.’
‘I’m glad you’ve liked it back here. It sounds like it’s been just what you needed but I bet you can’t wait to be living back in London again.’
I stopped mid-slurp. ‘You what?’
‘You’ll love living back in London again. I’ve got this great apartment by the Thames. It’s rented but there’s some for sale in the same building. Maybe we can buy one if the commute’s okay for you.’
‘Commute?’
‘I’m assuming you’ll want to work until we start a family but it’s up to you after that. I can support us. I earn six figures you know.’ He tried to hold up six fingers but somehow managed eight. ‘There may be a couple of marketing roles at my place. I can put in a good word for you.’
I gasped. How the hell had he jumped so quickly from a few kisses to me moving to London, getting a job, buying a flat, and having his babies? I stared at him, wondering for a moment if he was winding me up but his serious face suggested otherwise. ‘I’ve already got a job. I own a shop, remember?’
‘You must have had enough of playing shop by now, surely?’ Andy laughed and gave me what I’m sure was meant to be a gentle prod on the arm but it actually hurt like hell. I scowled at him. Do that again and Little Andy will be wearing this coffee!
‘Come on, Sarah, you’ve got a brain. You should be fast-tracking your career in London, not wasting away in a piddley little shop in some past-its-best seaside resort.’
‘It’s a shit hole. You know it and I know it. But we can leave soon.’
I wanted to slap him. Looking at the smug grin on his face, I saw again the self-assured arrogance he’d displayed all those years ago when he put his career ahead of me. I pictured myself that day outside his office when things ended. Back then, I’d been falling apart inside. Now, I was so much stronger and I wasn’t going to take the same old crap from him again.
I shuffled round on the sofa so I could face him fully, arms folded. Taking a deep breath, I said calmly, ‘Please forgive me for being a bit slow, but am I correct in thinking that you want me to close the shop, move down to London with you, and get a marketing job again?’
‘Of course not! You don’t have to close the shop.’ He plumped a cushion and swivelled to fully face me too. ‘You could sell it. Or you could get a manager in to run it for you. Yeah. That would be perfect.’ He downed the last bit of wine in my glass. ‘Anyway, you don’t need to decide right now. I think we’ve done enough talking.’ He put the empty glass down and smiled seductively. ‘I’m sure we can awaken Little Andy…’ He leaned towards me, lips puckered, but I put my hand out and pushed him back.
‘Not so fast, Romeo. I’m not quite done with the talking.’ My voice sounded strong and confident; a contrast to the nervous butterflies in my stomach. ‘I know you said I had a brain and I should use it, but I’m having a real thickie moment so please bear with me. Did I or did I not tell you this week that moving up here came at just the right time for me because I didn’t enjoy living in London anymore, that I hate the thought of ever working for another big company, and that the shop is the best thing that’s ever happened to me?’
Searching for Steven (Whitsborough Bay Trilogy Book 1) Page 28