Ashley winced. ‘Crashed? ‘
‘We hit one of the tall palm trees they call “widow makers”. Kelly nearly didn’t make it—she sustained a brain injury and they operated on her that day. And when she came round from the anaesthetic, she was in a coma. A deep, vegetative state, the doctors called it.’ He swallowed. ‘In which she remains to this day.’
‘Oh, my God. Oh, how awful. Oh, Jack—I’m so sorry! How long… I mean, how long has it been?’ she whispered.
‘Two years.’
Two years? Suddenly, Ashley felt as if her life were a jigsaw puzzle which somebody had just snatched up and shaken all over the floor.
He gave a ragged sigh as he stared at her. ‘I know what you must be thinking, Ashley—that I’m heartless and cruel and deceitful, and, yes, maybe I am. But I sat by her bedside for weeks while they conducted test after test. Weeks became months. I had every top specialist flown in and they all said the same thing. That it was hopeless, that she would never recover—and that I should go away and live my own life. For a while I refused to believe them. I said that there were such things as miracles—but I was wrong. No miracle ever happened and eventually I took their advice and came home. But I wasn’t planning on meeting someone else and falling in love with her—nor on wanting to spend the rest of my life with her.’
But words which would once have thrilled her had lost their power to move. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’
‘And when should I have done that?’ he demanded. ‘From the moment I met you it was already too late. My guard was down because I never imagined that someone like you would pose any threat. You were too young and too gauche—you simply weren’t my type. And then I began to notice the person you really were underneath. One who was honest and spirited and yet shy all at the same time. Who had all the qualities I’d never dreamed a woman could have. You just bewitched me, Ashley, and I was imprisoned by your spell. I kept saying to myself—I will tell her today. And then, no, I will tell her tomorrow. And then tomorrow became tomorrow. There was always another tomorrow. And then, of course—we became lovers—’
‘Adulterous lovers,’ she breathed, her faced flushed with a combination of shame and brandy as she stared at him.
Uncomfortably, he shrugged. ‘In theory.’
‘No, Jack—in practice,’ she insisted and then shook her head, her heart as heavy as lead. ‘Why give me the ring? Why make the proposal?’ she demanded. ‘Was that your own form of entrapment? Of pretending that none of your past life had ever happened?’
‘And haven’t you ever pretended?’ he snapped, his face suddenly darkening with a fierce kind of anger. ‘That the world is not like it really is, but a Utopian version which is kind to us all?’
She stared at him. ‘Of course I have,’ she answered slowly. She, more than anyone, had spent her whole childhood fantasising about being someone else who lived somewhere else. Pretending that she had a mother and father who loved her and a safe and cosy little house somewhere in the suburbs. ‘And you’re right—I can’t heap all the blame on you. I pretended to myself that everything was fine between us when deep down I knew there was something wrong. There were lots of unanswered questions and things that weren’t quite right. Things I didn’t dare confront because maybe I wanted the Utopian version, too. So maybe I was guilty of cowardice for not having confronted the issue.’
She remembered something else now. Something else which she had blocked. ‘There’s a scarf tucked away in your study,’ she said slowly. ‘A beautiful blue scarf, shot with gold.’
His face was ashen now and his voice sounded tortured. ‘It belonged to Kelly,’ he said. ‘She was wearing it on the day of the crash. The hospital gave it to me and I brought it home. Every time I looked at it, I thought of her lying stricken and unresponsive in her hospital bed. I could hardly bear to keep it, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.’
‘Oh, Jack.’
His mouth hardened, as if her quiet words of automatic sympathy had only added to his pain. ‘Can’t you see that the moment I told you about my past, it would have coloured it black?’ he appealed. ‘The way it’s doing right now. Maybe I just wanted to experience the joy of telling the woman I love that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her—without this dark reality pressing down on us. Was that such a terrible thing to do, Ashley—to chase that brief moment of joy?’
‘Yes. No. I don’t know, Jack.’
He moved away from the fire and walked towards her and in spite of everything she could feel herself tremble with love as he grew closer.
‘This doesn’t have to change anything, you know,’ he said.
Her heart thumping she stared up at him. ‘Are you out of your mind?’
‘Why should it? Kelly is getting the best treatment in the world and that will never change. I will continue to care for her in every way that I can. You and I could carry on being lovers—just as before. But if you want, I will divorce her. That’s one of the reasons I went down to London to see my lawyer—to find out where I stood legally, and—’
‘No!’
Her fierce response must have taken him by surprise because he stopped, his black eyes narrowing as he stared back at her.
‘You once told me you could forgive me anything,’ he said slowly.
‘And at the time I meant it—but I was wrong. I can’t pretend that everything’s hunky-dory. Don’t you see this is hopeless? That it must all end?’ she whispered. ‘I can’t be your lover any more, Jack—and I can’t put myself in the way of temptation. I have to go away from here—far away. We have to forget all about each other and everything we’ve been to each other, don’t you see that?’
‘But why, Ashley? Why?’
She shook her head. Couldn’t he see? Was he going to make her endure yet more pain by having to spell it out for him word by aching word? ‘Because it’s wrong—and I can’t do it. I can’t bear the thought of you divorcing a sick and helpless woman because of me—and neither can I bear the thought of sharing your bed while she’s still alive. But it’s more than that, Jack—it’s the whole trust thing. You should have told me and you didn’t tell me—and I don’t think.’ Her voice faltered slightly before the words came rushing out in a bitter stream. ‘I don’t think I would ever be able to trust you again. That trust has been broken and I don’t think it can ever be mended. And whichever way you look at it—that’s no basis for married life or any other kind of life together.’
He flinched then as if she had hit him, staring into her face for a long moment before abruptly turning away from her and going over to stare into the heart of the fire. And when he turned again, his face was changed. Different. So that for a moment he looked like a remote stranger and not like Jack at all.
‘I’m asking you to sleep on it. Not to make any decisions in the heat of the moment,’ he said. ‘I will not attempt to influence you in any way other than to emphasise that what we share is rare. You know it is, Ashley. What has happened has been one almighty mess which I could have—and should have—handled better. But the fundamental facts haven’t changed. I love you and you love me—and I’m a lot older than you are. I’ve been around a bit and I’ve seen the way things work in this crazy world of ours.’ His voice lowered into an urgent entreaty. ‘Let me assure you that this kind of love doesn’t come along very often. We’re compatible, you and I—we both know that. We have something which is special. And that if we let it go… if we squander it. well, we’d be crazy.’
She thought if that was Jack not influencing her, then she would like to hear what he had to say when he was. Though on second thoughts, maybe she wouldn’t. Because wasn’t it difficult enough now to resist the urge to fling herself into his arms and have him cover her hair and face with his hot, sweet kisses? To let his love-making banish all her doubts and her fears. They could never go back to the way it had been before, but surely they could find another way—one which would still take into account that rare compatibility
he’d spoken of.
But could she live like that—knowing that their happiness would for ever be tarnished by another woman’s tragedy? Ashley stared into Jack’s black eyes, drinking in their gleaming brilliance and hoping that her face did not betray her tumultuous thoughts. Because if he had any idea of what was in her mind, wouldn’t he try to stop her?
‘I’ve listened to everything you’ve said,’ she answered slowly. ‘And now I’m going upstairs to bed.’
‘Ashley—’
‘Let me sleep on it,’ she said. ‘Please. Don’t ask any more than that.’ And with that, she quickly left the room—before she broke down in front of him. Knowing that there was nothing to sleep on. The words she’d spoken to him had been true. It was going to have to end and she was going to have to leave. To go somewhere far away—where Jack could not find her and tempt her into coming back.
Sleep was out of the question. Instead, she lay wide-eyed on her bed until she heard his heavy footfall on the stairs and the clicking shut of his door. She waited until the house was completely silent before she crept around her room, quietly layering a few essential pieces of clothing into a small bag—listening out like a burglar for the sound of movement.
She tried writing a note—but could find no words for what she wanted to say. To berate him for having betrayed her and broken her heart would be unnecessarily cruel to a man who had surely suffered enough. To tell him that she had loved him and suspected she always would might give both of them false hope. Because she had spoken the truth earlier and they did not have any kind of future. Not together.
The diamond ring she slid from her finger and laid in the centre of the table by the window, where it winked reproachfully at her—a cold and precious symbol of all that would never be hers.
But it wasn’t until dawn brought with it the concealing sound of birdsong that she made her way downstairs. Like a ghost, she slipped through the back door and as she did she heard the shrilling sound of the phone. Briefly, she wondered who on earth was ringing at this time of the morning—but the business of Blackwood was no longer her business. Quietly, she shut the door behind her and said a silent goodbye to her old life.
Skirting the main lawns, she was soon swallowed up by the trees which bordered the lane. The light was pearly grey and it was a chill morning, but Ashley didn’t notice anything other than the frantic beat of her heart and the urgent need to get away. Far away—even though something seemed to be pulling her back towards the black-eyed man who probably was not asleep either.
She’d thought about what Jack might do if some sixth sense alerted him to her absence and sent him running after her. The nearest railway station was the first place he’d look. So she carried on walking—her ears alert to the sound of approaching cars… or horses… And only when she’d put several miles between herself and Blackwood, did she risk sliding her mobile phone from the pocket of her jeans and dialling a taxi company.
The cab arrived twenty minutes later and she slid onto the back seat.
‘Where to?’ questioned the driver as he looked at her in the rear mirror.
Ashley swallowed. Where to? Where could she run to and seek refuge? London, she guessed. She had friends there and it was big enough and anonymous enough to lose herself if Jack should try to find her.
She leaned forward to speak to the driver while outside the sun struggled to break through a heavy grey sky and nothing but an empty future seemed to lie ahead of her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LONDON looked different and it felt different, too. After the wildness of the moors and the pure, clean air the city seemed to crowd in on her. As she alighted from the train Ashley could see people everywhere—and she wondered if they could read the bitter heartache written on her face.
She had friends in London—friends who would have willingly taken her in and given her a sofa to sleep on. Who would have opened a bottle of wine—or two—and told her that there were plenty more fish in the sea and she would soon get over Jack Marchant.
But Ashley knew it wasn’t as easy as that. Just as she knew that she couldn’t face any of her friends—no matter how well intentioned they might be. Her grief was too big and intense and personal to allow anyone else to intrude on it. And her feelings for Jack were too complicated by love. She might silently curse him for having broken her heart—but she wouldn’t allow other people to do the same.
So she checked into one of the small hotels which could be found tucked away in the less salubrious parts of every city, and there she curled herself up in a soulless room, on a narrow bed. For two days, she alternated between fitful sleep and tears, and existed on cups of hot, sweet tea made on a hissing little kettle which sat next to the TV.
By the third day, she knew she needed strength and went out to buy herself food—forcing herself to go to a café, where she ordered a plateful of bacon and eggs and hot, buttered toast. It was comfort food—and it had the desired effect. She ate every mouthful, knowing that afterwards she would feel better. Because Ashley was an old hand at recovery. She’d had setback after setback many times in her life, and every time she had managed to bounce back. It took effort—a big effort—and never had it seemed as difficult as it did this time. Her heart and her spirit had never felt this shattered before—but what choice did she have? To fade away and cease to exist? To become a shadow of a woman, letting her doomed love affair ruin the rest of her life?
No. She would never forget Jack and she didn’t want to—but she had strived too hard in the past to allow herself to cave in now.
It was tempting to find a brand-new employment agency and to start all over again—but she’d worked for Julia at Trumps since she’d left school and she had a proven work record with them. And so she risked paying the office a visit. Would Jack have contacted them? she wondered. Told them that she’d behaved unprofessionally by walking out without giving notice—knowing that she would probably never dream of telling them the reason why?
But he had done no such thing. Her salary had been paid in full—right to the end of the contract—and he had even provided a glowing reference without being asked. And wasn’t there a part of Ashley’s spirit which sank when Julia passed on this particular piece of news? She had told him that it must end and that she didn’t want to be contacted—but hadn’t she thought that he might at least try?
And then what? Put herself through the torture of having to send him away—and make her heart break into a thousand pieces all over again?
Trumps Agency lived up to its name and quickly found her a live-in post, working for the general manager of a smart boutique hotel in a small Dorset town in the south of England. It was a pretty little place and the countryside was fairly tame when she compared it with the wild and rugged beauty of the moors. But Ashley wanted that. Maybe she needed that. She didn’t need an untamed wildness which reminded her too poignantly of Jack. And this time she had the sea—with its ever-changing beauty and the endless sound of the waves, which soothed her troubled heart.
Two months into her new job and she discovered to her surprise that her smiles felt much less of an effort than they had done in those first early days of leaving Jack. But she’d known how important it was to keep smiling. If you didn’t smile then people asked you questions. They wanted to know if you were miserable—and then why, and she hadn’t wanted to answer that.
Ashley knew that life had to go on—and that time healed. She had to put her faith in all the old clichés which had always comforted people in times of trouble. So she did her new job as best she could. She was calm and efficient and her work seemed to please her boss—and at least spring had come at last. It brought with it all the fresh, bright bulbs bursting through the bare earth and filling the warm air with their delicate fragrance. And surely that boded well for her future? In time, wouldn’t the changing of the seasons wash away more and more of the pain she felt at being parted from Jack?
She joined a French evening class and started taking swimming
lessons at the local pool, and slowly began to make friends. Her life felt quiet and uneventful—but that was exactly what she wanted.
And then two things happened which changed her world. The first was that a lawyer contacted her through the employment agency and Julia said no, she didn’t have a clue what it was about, but that there was a phone number for Ashley to ring.
Cautiously, Ashley did so—withholding her number and prepared to hang up if it was anything to do with Jack. But it was not. It was to do with her mother—or, rather, the family of her late mother who had decided that her neglected offspring must be traced.
It was strange, thought Ashley—as she sat opposite a well-spoken lawyer in his London office one afternoon—how death could sometimes help heal the quarrels of the living. Her maternal grandmother seemed to have been struck by a death-bed bout of guilt and remorse and had amended her will accordingly. She was determined in some small way to compensate the granddaughter she had failed to acknowledge during her lifetime. In fact, she was more than generous—and extremely wealthy. It transpired that Ashley had inherited a substantial amount of money—as well as an extended and scattered family who were curious to meet her.
The money was enough to ensure that Ashley could banish some of her uncertainty about her future. She would certainly need to keep working—but at least now she was going to be able to buy a property of her own. For the first time in her life she could afford a roof over her head—her own place at last. It was her first real experience of security and she discovered she liked it—and that it went a long way in helping her shake off some of her ingrained feelings of inferiority.
Her habitual reserve initially made her baulk at the thought of getting to know a whole batch of newly discovered relations—but the aching hole in her heart left by the end of her affair with Jack made her make a tentative move towards meeting them. A large family party followed—a confusing and noisy affair which left Ashley feeling faintly bemused. But to her surprise, she was welcomed into the fold and she quickly began to know and to love her little nieces and nephews. Her weekends now began to include occasional trips to Gloucestershire, where many of them were based—and having her own family gave her another unfamiliar taste of security, and of roots.
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