‘First,’ I gulp, gripping tighter.
The motorbike pulls into the drop-off point. Being static should, in theory, calm my hyperactive nervous system, but it does nothing of the sort. As Tom takes off his helmet, helping me dismount, my legs are like jelly.
‘Thank you,’ I mutter, removing my helmet and handing it to him.
He nods. ‘Pleasure,’ he replies, then says nothing.
We stand looking at each other. Then I glance in the airport terminal and see Daniel pacing up and down next to our luggage, looking at his watch.
‘You’d better go,’ Tom urges.
I nod, but can’t say anything. Anything at all.
I turn to head for the terminal, knowing that this is the only decent thing to do. I simply cannot stand up a man at the airport when he’s about to whisk me to Paris. I couldn’t live with myself.
I head to the revolving doors, trying desperately to suppress the tears in my eyes. I am inches from entering them when I feel a hand on my arm.
‘Abby,’ says Tom urgently. ‘Come over here. I’ve got to tell you something. I’ve got to get something off my chest.’ He pulls me to the side of the building, where we’re out of sight of the main windows. ‘Look, it’s no good.’
I gulp. ‘What’s no good?’
He takes a deep breath. ‘For months, I’ve been pretending this hasn’t been happening. I can’t go on any longer. And while I stand by what I said about not wanting to do anything dishonourable, I cannot watch you fly off somewhere with another man without telling you how I feel.’
I can barely catch my breath. ‘How do you feel?’
He looks away and laughs. ‘I got this horribly wrong last time I tried to tell you, so this time, I’m going to be absolutely clear.’
‘Y-yes?’
His jaw locks, as if a part of him is still holding back. Then, with blazing eyes, he grabs both of my hands. ‘I love you.’
‘W-what?’ I manage.
‘I love you, Abby.’ He smiles widely, as if simply saying it is a weight off his shoulders. ‘I can’t actually believe how much I love you.’
‘Really?’
He nods. ‘Look, you have a boyfriend waiting in there. And I . . . I don’t know what the answer is. But I do know something. The way I feel at the moment, I don’t want to spend another minute of my life without you.’
I gaze into his eyes and think about my choice.
Tom or Daniel.
The decision comes to me with absolute clarity. There really is no other option.
‘I’m sorry, Tom,’ I say. ‘But I’m afraid you’re going to have to.’
Chapter 91
Tom’s face drops.
‘What I mean is – just for one minute,’ I say hastily. ‘Not a moment longer. I want you to wait here. Don’t move, Tom. I mean it.’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he replies as I sprint away.
Daniel can tell something’s not right the second he sees me.
‘Abby,’ he smiles uneasily. ‘You made it in time.’
‘Yes,’ I manage.
‘I didn’t wait in the check-in queue,’ he continues. ‘It’s gone right down now so we should be able to get there straight away.’
‘Right,’ I reply, dropping my eyes. ‘The thing is, Daniel—’
‘Don’t,’ he interrupts softly, looking into my eyes.
‘What?’
‘You don’t have to say anything, Abby,’ he whispers. ‘You’re not coming, are you?’
I close my eyes. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He breathes out. ‘There’s somebody else.’ It isn’t a question, but a statement of fact.
‘I haven’t been seeing anyone while we’re together,’ I tell him, ‘but . . . yes, there is.’
‘Tom?’ he asks.
I frown. ‘How did you . . .?’
‘You talk in your sleep,’ he smiles gently. ‘That day you fell asleep on my sofa . . .’
I’m about to say something else, when the tannoy announces the final call for the flight.
‘I’d better go – I’ve still got my meeting in Paris. And you’d better have your luggage back.’ He hands me my bag.
‘Thank you, Daniel.’ I kiss him on the cheek. ‘Have a good trip, and . . . take care, won’t you? I mean that.’
As Daniel heads towards the check-in desk, I race outside, my suitcase trundling behind me. I go as fast as I can with a large piece of luggage in my hand, as a terrifying thought overwhelms me – that Tom might not be there.
But as I emerge from the doors, he’s standing next to his motorbike. He looks up and walks towards me, looking every bit as gorgeous as he did the first time I saw him a year ago. In fact, a million times more – particularly given that he isn’t unconscious this time.
I drop my case to the ground and stand on my tiptoes to fling my arms around him. He looks in my eyes and moves his mouth towards mine; I can taste his sweet breath before we’re even touching.
When we kiss – for the very first time since I gave him mouth-to-mouth in the car park – it’s the most exhilarating experience of my life. It goes on for ever and is over in a flash.
Then I move my lips to his ear and whisper, ‘I love you too. But is there any chance we can get a taxi home?’
Epilogue
I wouldn’t have blamed Daniel if he’d never spoken to me again. Yet, being the thoroughly lovely sort he is, he called in at the office a month later to tell me that one of his clients was looking for a web-design company.
I wasn’t in so Heidi took a message – the mention of which provokes the same response from Matt every time: ‘That’s not all he took, from what I heard.’
The remark is as mischievous as it is misleading, for Heidi and Daniel’s relationship is no light-hearted fling. They are as smitten as two lovebirds fed a diet of aphrodisiacs – and it’s lovely to see. As for the MS, Heidi’s relapse ended as suddenly as it came about a week later. She’s now in remission, on various drugs, and feels totally normal again.
Of course, the fact that the relapses are getting worse and lasting longer isn’t great news, something of which she’s only too aware. But determination oozes from Heidi’s every pore, and she completely refuses to let the disease beat her. She’s constantly telling me what an inspiration the other members of her MS support group are. I don’t think she realises that that’s exactly what she is herself.
Priya and Matt are still dating. It’s been four months, which in Priya’s words is not just a record, but a miracle. Yet, now they’re together, you can’t imagine them apart. Matt is as perfect for Priya as her luminous hair – and, after another power cut in the office last week, long may that continue.
Geraldine has instigated a romance with a handsome orthodontist who does not go to the running club, despises exercise and absolutely adores her. It’s early days, something she reiterates constantly, though I did catch her flicking through a Mamas & Papas brochure a few weeks ago.
Adam returned home the day of the race. Jess will torture herself for the rest of her life about what she did, and it’s safe to say she’ll never have to be reminded how lucky she is again. Which is probably why she says three little words to her husband every morning; words that cost nothing but mean everything – and provide a constant reminder to Adam that he really has got his wife back.
Mum has given Egor a job. Which has annoyed the hell out of me, because he was the best accountant I’ve ever worked with. Okay, he was the only accountant I’ve ever worked with, but that’s not the point. He was mine. I can’t be bitter though, because I know she’s paying him significantly better than I could and he’s now wearing the swankiest footwear I’ve seen outside a Louboutin catalogue.
Mum and Dad are dating. Of course, they would deny that statement completely if they heard me saying it – but they can’t, so tough.
These are the facts and you can judge for yourself: they go out to dinner every couple of weeks and are constantly talking about each ot
her – to everyone but me, that is. I suppose they fear that I’ll get my hopes up. Jess even saw them snogging! It was in a dark corner of a city-centre bar, late on a Saturday night, after she and Adam had popped in for a drink after the theatre. There they were, by the bar – unequivocally smooching.
The other big news is that Mum will be over in Sydney on business next month – and she’s arranged to go to lunch with Aunt Steph. She’s playing down its significance, of course, but I’m not – not least because it illustrates beautifully my mum’s incredible strength of character. Even if she is a pain in the bum. I’ve become even more familiar with both of these qualities since she became a non-executive board member of River Web Design.
I finally realised that a little help from the right places is nothing to be ashamed of – though, as the boss, I do have to rein her in sometimes. Which I can’t deny has been the source of some sport in the last four weeks: dismissing her suggestion about the colour of the office blinds proved more satisfying than I’d have imagined possible.
We’re going great guns at the moment. The overdraft is paid off and we’re well on the way to world domination. Sort of. We’re doing really well, anyway, with a flurry of new clients on board and another new staff member.
Which is particularly satisfying given that, when it came to it, I couldn’t give up my training schedule as I’d wanted to. As predicted, everyone honoured their donations, even though I didn’t complete the half-marathon. However, it still felt like unfinished business to me, so I was thrilled when I completed my first ever half-marathon, one in the Yorkshire Dales, a month after I almost completed it the first time.
It nearly killed me. And I’ve sworn I’ll never do it again, not least because I refuse to turn into one of those horrendous fitness fanatics, God help me. Though there is a nice, gentle Ten K coming up in June – and of course the Great North Run in September. Jess is training for the New York Marathon next year but, clearly, that’s ridiculous. Though I have always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty . . .
My travel plans for the foreseeable future, however, are already accounted for, since Mum is not the only one who’ll be in Australia soon.
Having spent months teasing Tom about him callously draining my Australia Fund just to fix that bike – which I still hate – I was overjoyed by last night’s events.
My boyfriend of four months turned up at the house on an average Wednesday night and presented me with an envelope containing two tickets – to Sydney.
Which is just one of the reasons why I love him more than I ever imagined possible. Even if I’m determined that my trip to the airport will be significantly more sedate than last time.
Table of Contents
Cover
Half-title page
Also by Jane Costello
Title page
Copyright page
Dedication
Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Epilogue
Girl on the Run Page 35