by Fiona Harper
Until she believed she deserved the happy ever after she yearned for so desperately, it would always be out of her reach. Until she understood she was worth being loved, she would always doubt him. Always. And that tiny speck of doubt, like a grain of sand would irritate and irritate until she couldn’t stand it any more. Even if he could talk her round now, their relationship would die from a slow-acting poison.
He had to let her go. Just the thought of that made his nose burn and his eyes sting. He coughed the sensation away.
Louise was looking at him with a strange mix of irritation and confusion on her face. It took all his strength not to reach for her, not to kiss her one last time. His feet felt heavy as he made his way to the kitchen door. He opened it, stepped through, then turned to take one last look.
‘You win,’ he said. ‘Maybe I’m not what you need. But I could be—if only you’d let me.’ He shook his head. ‘Goodbye, Louise. You know where I am when you’re ready to come and find me.’ Then he closed the door behind him and walked away.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Louise became more of a hermit than ever. She didn’t want to risk crossing the river into Lower Hadwell and running into Ben. She didn’t want to run into anyone. There had been plenty of people who’d seen them together on New Year’s Eve and there was bound to be talk. The fact there was nothing more to talk about now would just make things worse.
He’d left her. He’d walked away and left her, the one thing she’d never thought he would do.
It didn’t help that she knew she’d pushed him away, given him the first shove. She’d thought a man like Ben would stay anyway. He hadn’t seemed the leaving kind.
Had she been testing him? Pushing him away to see what he’d do? She wasn’t sure. Whatever her motivation, he’d failed the test. Maybe their lives were too different after all. Maybe, like Dominic and Laura, their time was brief and magical but would never translate into a proper future.
So Louise didn’t dream about Ben any more. She didn’t wish for him. She didn’t wish for anything—except that the minutes would go faster until Jack came home.
In the meantime she cleaned up the house, investigated the stables to see if they really would be a good restoration project, and she finally gave her curiosity over Laura Hastings full rein and researched her life and career.
It turned out that Laura had stayed at Whitehaven on her own. There were no more husbands. Rumours of a couple of romances, but nothing that lasted. But she’d got very involved in wildlife preservation and children’s charities. There was even a picture in one biography showing a large picnic on Whitehaven’s front lawn. Laura had paid for almost a hundred inner-city children to come and spend the day at her home, giving them a break from the relentless greyness of their urban lives. There was even a hint she’d planned to continue the tradition, but her health had prevented it.
It seemed Alex had become seriously ill a few years after their split, and Laura had invited him to come and stay with her when the doctors said nothing more could be done. Alex’s presence at Whitehaven for those tragic six months explained why Louise remembered a husband being mentioned in connection with the place. Alex and Laura might not have reconciled, but they’d forgiven each other and moved on. Healed.
Laura had known this house could help with that. She just hadn’t predicted correctly who and what it would help. Laura had been holding Alex’s hand when he died and, apparently, there was a small memorial to him somewhere in Louise’s woods. She decided she would find it and look after it, because she was sure Laura would have done so as long as she could.
Dominic also never remarried. His career had petered out after Jean’s death. Somehow he just hadn’t had the verve and energy cinema-going audiences had loved about him any more. But he and his daughter had been comfortably off and Dominic had founded an acting school that still ran to this day. Toby had even been kicked out of it when he was younger, although Louise had no idea there’d been a connection until she’d started digging into Laura’s past.
Caroline, of course, had followed in her mother’s footsteps and grown up to be a singer and had a string of hits in the late seventies and early eighties. She now lived in Italy with her aristocratic husband and a gaggle of beautiful children—one of whom Louise had met, as she’d been the hottest supermodel of the day when Louise had been working. Strange, how her and Laura’s lives touched so much, even though they’d never met.
After reading the diary, Louise felt as if she’d met her, so she didn’t take up Tara’s suggestion to sell the story and make a shedload of money. No, Laura had hidden that diary to keep it secret, and Louise understood the need for privacy, the need to at least keep some things for yourself. She was sure Laura wouldn’t have wanted it all to come out. Not once in any of the film clips, interviews or books Louise had trawled through had she mentioned Dominic, so Louise too would keep her silence.
She placed her folder of research, now complete, into the drawer of the little desk in the boathouse, along with the diary, locked it and then let it all be at peace, safely tucked out of the way from prying eyes.
And she decided to start her own diary. It had helped Laura, hadn’t it? Helped her to get her feelings out on paper and sort things out in her head. Louise could do with a bit of that herself.
So she ordered a nearly identical notebook from an online stationery company, and also a nice fountain pen. Her round, schoolgirlish scrawl was nowhere as elegant as Laura’s had been, though. Never mind. Maybe that was something she could learn.
After letting her nib hover over the page for a good minute, she lowered it and began to write:
Dear Laura,
You don’t know me, but I feel as if I know you. I found your diary in the fireplace in the boathouse. I wasn’t stealing or prying—just cleaning. I own Whitehaven now. I think it called me, just like it called you. I hope you’re right about its being special, because I could really do with some ‘special’ in my life right now. My marriage is over, the man I thought was going to be The One has walked away …
But you know all about that, don’t you? You understand.
Anyway, I wanted you to know that I’m going to start the picnics up again. A charity that helps kids who have to act as carers for their parents called up the other day, asking me if I’d like to get involved in a more practical way, to become a patron. I said yes, of course. And the first thing that came to mind was that lovely photo of the lawn filled with children eating sausage rolls and drinking lemonade.
I thought Easter would be a good time. Very symbolic. A time of new life and fresh starts. Everyone can do with some of that (especially me). We’re going to start small—just twenty kids at first—and then build up from there. We’ll see …
I’d really like to see firsthand what this house can do.
Best wishes,
Louise.
The day before school started up again, Toby brought Jack back to Whitehaven. Louise was waiting on the driveway for the sound of a car and when Toby parked and Jack flew out of the back passenger door, Louise ran towards him and scooped him and hugged him close until he squirmed and moaned and begged to be let down. Even then she hung onto him for a couple more seconds.
‘Just wait till I tell Jas where I’ve been!’ he said. ‘Is she coming round this afternoon? It’s Sunday!’
Louise shook her head. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. She and … her dad … are doing something else today.’ She didn’t know exactly what, but she’d bet they wouldn’t be making an appearance at Whitehaven today, so they had to be somewhere doing something. Anyway, Jack would probably see Jas in the village over the next couple of weeks. They could catch up then.
Her son seemed satisfied with her reply, because he said, ‘Is there cake, Mum?’
Louise couldn’t help smiling. ‘What do you think?’
Jack just grinned and ran off in the direction of the kitchen.
‘There’s peanut butter cookies and chocolate muffins and lem
on poppyseed cake!’ she called over her shoulder. When she straightened, she found Toby standing in front of her, looking as every bit as gorgeous as the day she’d first met him. How was that fair?
‘Did I hear something about cake?’ he asked, smiling that smile of his—the one he used to charm people into getting what he wanted.
Louise was about to tell him exactly where he could stuff the cake when she remembered Laura and Alex, how they’d managed to put the past behind them and find some peace. Maybe she should do that with Toby. It would be better for Jack in the long run, even if a little carbohydrate-related assault might be fun in the short term.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Come inside.’
Jack had already attacked the chocolate muffins, leaving the lid off the tin, and had run off again by the time they reached the kitchen. Louise nudged the tin in her very-soon-to-be ex-husband’s direction. ‘Knock yourself out.’
Toby took one and bit into it. He closed his eyes and murmured his appreciation. Louise should have been pleased, she supposed, but she couldn’t help thinking of another man in this kitchen doing the same thing, and she was doing her level best not to think about him at all.
‘How have you been?’ Toby asked, sitting on the edge of her kitchen table.
‘Fine.’ She was fine. Feeling fine would come later.
He put the cake down and walked towards her, stopping when he was close but not too close. ‘I’ve missed you, Lulu,’ he said. His eyes were warm and clear and Louise very nearly believed him. Her heart kicked in her chest. She must have been looking wide-eyed and approachable, because Toby stepped closer, placed his palm on the side of her face and leaned in for a soft, gentle kiss.
Louise felt the tingle right down to her toes. But chemistry had never been a problem between her and Toby. It was what had kept them going when everything else had crumbled. It was what had kept Louise with him, believing it must prove something about how he felt for her.
She didn’t push him away. She should have done, but she didn’t. It was just that she’d been so lonely …
Toby pulled back and she stepped away and looked at the ground, shook his hand away from her face. He moved it, but only to rest it on her shoulder. When he didn’t say anything, Louise glanced up at him.
‘Do we really have to go through with this divorce thing?’ he whispered. ‘It’s not too late, you know. We could stop it any time we want.’
For a crazy moment, Louise swayed towards doing just that. Wouldn’t it be easier? To be Mrs Thornton again? To know Jack had both of his parents together and wasn’t going to be messed up and in rehab in five years’ time? To not have to wonder about who she was and what she could be? She knew who she was with Toby. It would be like slipping on a favourite, very comfortable pair of shoes.
But there was a nasty great stone in that shoe. It was twenty years old and blonde and had legs up to its earlobes. Louise shrugged his hand away.
‘What about Miranda. Remember her?’
Toby stopped smiling and looked a little uncomfortable. ‘Miranda was a mistake, Miranda is … Actually, Miranda’s history.’
Her eyebrows rose. Really?
‘She’s nothing compared to you. I still love you, Lulu. Give me another chance?’ His voice had that soft, gravelly tone that used to turn her insides to mush. ‘Please?’
Louise was speechless. This was exactly what she’d been desperate to hear for years. If Toby had looked at her like this just once in the run up to their split …
She shook her head and backed away, folding her arms across her middle. ‘Sorry, Toby. I can’t. Not now.’
Not now she knew just how love should be. How it should be equal, not one person giving and the other person taking. How it should make you feel like you could fly, not like you were something crushed under someone else’s boot.
Oh, hell. And how exactly did she know these things? The only man she’d ever loved was Toby. Wasn’t it? She wasn’t supposed to be able to make comparisons.
‘Don’t be like that, hon,’ he said, a hint of hardness in his tone, even though the eyes remained soft and inviting. ‘We need each other. You know that …’
And then it all came sharply into focus. Poor little Miranda probably hadn’t realised what hard work a movie star fifteen years her senior would be. And Toby was a movie star who’d grown used to having absolutely everything his own way from most of that time.
Guilt washed over her. That was partly her fault. She’d let him get away with murder, had fooled herself she’d been doing at out of love, when really she’d just been scared he see through her glamorous exterior and reject her if she wasn’t everything he wanted.
Well, he had. And she’d survived.
‘No, Toby. I don’t want to go back. I can’t.’
When his smile dropped and he started looking a little sulky, Louise reached for him and laid a hand on his leather jacket. ‘But I hope we can find a way to be friends—for Jack’s sake.’
Right on cue, Jack rushed back into the kitchen, heading straight for the muffin tin. Toby pounced on him before he could snaffle another one, threw him over his shoulder and tickled him. Pretty soon father and son were a tangled mess of limbs and giggles on the kitchen floor.
Louise couldn’t help smiling. Toby might be a lot of things, but he was a good father. She’d give him that much.
But that’s all he would be from now on to her—Jack’s father. Because no way was Mr Tobias Thornton talking her into being his doormat again. She’d finally moved on.
Ben stood on the jetty at Lower Hadwell and looked across the river. Just one corner of Whitehaven’s roof was visible from here. In fact, because it was so hilly and the roads didn’t run along the shoreline, this was the only place one could see Whitehaven from on this side of the river. And even from a boat you could only catch tantalising glimpses, never the whole thing.
A bit like its owner in that respect. Just when he’d thought he had her figured out, she turned around, showed another facet of herself and either amazed or confused him.
He turned and called for his daughter, who was busy trying to shake a crab off her fishing line into an already overflowing bucket. ‘One more catch, Jas, then you’ll have to put them back. Your mum’s coming to pick you up soon.’
At least he hoped it would be soon.
He sighed and wandered over to Jas, who was now very carefully plopping the crabs back into the murky water. What was it with him and high-maintenance women? Was he a magnet for them, or something? Then he sighed again, because that really wasn’t being fair—to Louise, especially.
It wasn’t that she was self-centred or insensitive. She was just … broken. Life had broken her. And she was right. He hadn’t been able to fix her, just like he hadn’t been able to fix Megan.
He helped Jas collect together her bucket and line and they wandered back through the lanes to the cottage. Much to his surprise, his ex-wife turned up at six on the dot to collect their daughter. Jas hadn’t even got herself ready yet, so he invited Megan inside.
‘Actually,’ he said, steeling himself for a torrent of you’re-trying-to-sabotage-my-renaissance abuse, ‘I was wondering if I could pick Jas up half an hour later on Sunday? I’ve got a client who wants me to meet him in Brixham earlier in the afternoon and I might be a little late getting back.’
Megan surprised him again by nodding. ‘That’s fine. No problem.’
Blinking, he smiled at her. ‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’
She looked at him, and that hard, shiny shell that seemed to have hardened over her in the last couple of years flickered and dissolved. Just for a moment, she looked very much like the teenage girl he’d had a crush on all those years ago.
‘I wanted to say again … how sorry I am about the whole newspaper thing again,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’
‘Thank you,’ he said again and then he pressed his lips together while he thought through his next words. ‘There’s no reaso
n why we can’t get on, why we have to keep the fights going. We were friends once, Meg …’ At the start of their marriage, and even farther back—before the crush. They’d walked home from school together every day until he’d started to notice she was a girl. ‘Can’t we be that way again?’
Megan nodded. ‘We can try,’ she said, her voice a little hoarse. ‘I want to try.’
Jas clumped down the stairs and banged her way into the kitchen, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder. ‘Dad, I can’t find my iPod.’
‘Try the floor in the living room. I almost stepped on it earlier on.’
Jas raced off and Megan made her way towards the door. ‘See you both Sunday,’ he said as he closed it behind them.
And Ben was on his own again.
He hadn’t used to mind his own company, but nowadays he seemed to have too much time to think. He sat down on the sofa in the living room and flicked the television on, deciding to watch a game show. One of the questions caught his attention.
What three things do plants need to grow?
Easy.
Water. Sunlight. Food. Next question, please.
But he never even heard if the contestant got it right, because his brain started spinning.
I’m not one of your stupid plants, you know …
Louise’s words from the previous week echoed inside his skull. And then he was reminded of another conversation he’d had with her. Months ago, way back when they’d first met.
‘You can’t control the plants,’ he’d told her. ‘You just tend them, give them what they need until they become what they should.’
The sun couldn’t give a plant water, and the clouds couldn’t give it food, just as the soil couldn’t give it warmth or light. And maybe … maybe … the reason he hadn’t been able to fix the women in his life was because he’d tried to do everything for them, instead of just doing his bit.
Megan was starting to grow finally, starting to change. He’d just given her room, and she was getting through the hard seed stage and was starting to shoot. But it was something inside her that had started the metamorphosis. It had had to come from Megan.