Regrets (Follow Your Heart Book 2)

by Caragh Bell

  Luca arrived back at his hotel after a night in a pub watching football. He had sat at the bar drinking beer and had somehow started talking to this guy about Chelsea F.C. and the Premiership. He knew Craig was into all of that; there had always been a match of some sort on their tiny TV in the house they had shared in college.

  Despite not being au fait with the off-side rule or whatever, he had managed to strike up a conversation with a group of guys about the game. The evening had been fun; those dudes took it so damn seriously. They had tried to convince him to go clubbing on Regent Street, but he had declined. The old Luca would have been there in a millisecond, but the six a.m. flight weighed heavily on his mind. He couldn’t deal with the early start and the trip with a sore head.

  Soft music came from the bar as he strolled past towards the elevator. It looked busy, filled with London types, sipping whiskey and champagne. It had an air of upper-class sophistication; there were red leather seats clustered around small mahogany tables and a white marble bar counter.

  Suddenly, he stopped. It was only eleven thirty. Why not a quick drink? Then he would go straight to bed.

  Turning on his heel, he walked back towards the music, straight up to the bar and ordered a whiskey.

  The barman nodded and set to work.

  Luca glanced around the bar, soaking up the atmosphere. All the women looked stylish and poised, speaking in clipped tones. The men were dressed in expensive suits and wore rings on their pinkies. Maybe he should get one of those. A signet ring or whatever.

  He sipped his drink and winced as it scalded his throat. The whiskey here was so much better than back in the States. He made a note to buy some in the duty free in the morning.

  The crowd parted over by the giant fern in the corner. A small girl with blonde curls sauntered past, her blue eyes twinkling. He tried to focus. She sure was familiar. Then, an older woman followed, with the same hair and eyes. They had to be related.

  ‘Molly!’ she called after her. ‘Wait for me!’

  Luca squinted. He was sure he knew them from somewhere.

  Hell, no. That was impossible. It was probably all the beer that was now being mixed spectacularly with Glenfiddich that was confusing him.

  He turned away, just as Lydia walked out of the crowd.

  Colin followed Lydia out of the bar, his faux-fur coat draped on his arm. They walked unsteadily as the wine combined with a cocktail had finally hit them.

  ‘Let’s go back to the hotel,’ suggested Lydia swaying slightly. ‘We might get after hours drinks in the residents’ bar.’

  ‘Definitely,’ agreed Colin. ‘The night is young.’

  They walked out of the hotel. Samantha and Sandra were waiting on the kerb.

  ‘Where’s Laura?’ asked Lydia, looking around.

  ‘Gone for chips,’ said Molly approvingly. ‘A woman after my own heart.’

  ‘Back to the hotel for drinks?’ suggested Colin. ‘Bet I’ll be last man standing.’

  ‘Well, as you are the only man in the group…’ concluded Molly.

  ‘That’s debatable,’ quipped Sam, with a grin.

  ‘Ha, ha,’ he retorted. ‘Admit it – you would have been lost without me today!’

  Samantha shrugged. ‘I suppose you were useful enough.’

  A taxi pulled to a halt next to them. ‘Come on!’ Colin opened the door and hopped in. ‘Pile in!’

  Later that evening, Samantha and Lydia met in the bathroom.

  ‘Any news from home?’ asked Lydia walking into a cubicle and locking the door.

  ‘Not really,’ answered Samantha, washing her hands. ‘School is manic. Craig is up the walls. We barely see each other.’

  ‘Is he nervous?’ asked Lydia. ‘I mean, has he picked his best man and everything?’

  There was a pause. Samantha rested her head against the cool tiled wall. The time had come.

  ‘He has asked someone alright.’

  ‘Who?’

  The toilet flushed and the door opened. Then Sam could see that it had dawned on Lydia. Her friend looked horrified. She had gone deathly pale and her lower lip trembled.

  ‘He doesn’t have a brother so …’ Sam trailed off.

  Lydia strode purposefully to the sink and washed her hands.

  ‘Don’t worry, Lyd, it’ll be fine.’ Samantha patted her back. ‘It’s just a few formalities. You don’t have to look at him after that.’

  ‘It’s so awkward.’

  ‘It’s not. Things have moved on. It’s three years later, for fuck’s sake. He’s getting married and –’ She stopped.

  Lydia went pale.

  Oh, why did I say that? thought Sam.

  ‘Married?’ she whispered. ‘He’s getting what?’

  ‘He’s getting married this summer,’ said Samantha finally. ‘A month after me and Craig. To a girl called Charlotte. She’s really nice.’

  ‘You know her?’

  ‘Yeah, I do. We met in New York.’ Samantha looked uncomfortable. ‘I didn’t tell you because I thought it was for the best.’

  Lydia nodded bleakly.

  ‘He’s really happy. He works in his mum’s place, some gallery in Greenwich Village. Charlotte’s a lawyer. They seem pretty happy.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘Look, Lyd, I need to get back to the others. I hope this is okay.’ Samantha straightened her dress. ‘We’re all adults – it shouldn’t be a problem. Your little fling is long forgotten.’

  ‘Long forgotten,’ Lydia echoed.

  ‘Just bring that Mathis guy as your guest. Everything will be grand. A few glasses of wine and it’ll be like the old days.’

  Lydia smiled wanly. ‘I’ll follow you out.’

  The door banged shut.

  Lydia felt her stomach churn. She leaned against the wall and took deep breaths.

  How did she not see it coming? Of course, Craig would ask Luca to be best man. They were cousins, for Christ’s sake. Luca was the natural choice.

  Now, not only would she have to see him again, she would have to do all sorts of duties with him. Irish weddings were all the same. When Sarah had tied the knot, she had been chief bridesmaid for her too. Shane, Andy’s brother, had been best man. Together they had walked down the aisle, posed in pictures, signed the register and danced the first dance together. They had been practically joined at the hip.

  She put her head in her hands.

  The worst part was that Luca was getting married too. Her eyes filled with unwanted tears. Luca was not the marrying kind. She couldn’t imagine him settling down with anyone. It hurt like hell to hear it.

  This Charlotte girl sounded incredible. A lawyer? Of course she was successful. This was shocking news. It had punched her in the gut. Whenever she thought of him, she imagined him the way he was. The laid-back, fun-loving Luca who flirted with her and made her laugh. Now, he was all grown up. He had a job and was getting married.

  She stood up straight and inhaled deeply. She had to go back out to the others. Pushing open the heavy door, she walked back out into the bar.

  Colin noticed her mood immediately.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he whispered.

  She shook her head, her world spinning.

  ‘Let me take you to bed,’ he said in an undertone.

  She nodded numbly.

  ‘Right, all. I’m taking Lyd upstairs – she’s pissed.’

  The group waved drunkenly.

  Samantha said nothing. The worst was over. She felt relief now that everything was out in the open. She loved Lydia dearly, but they were like Mutt and Jeff when it came to life. Lydia was the dreamer, the drama magnet. She, however, was the practical one. She got things done and had little or no time for bullshit.

  The way she saw it, Lydia and Luca had been barely together and everything should be fine. Lydia had left him behind, he had sorted out his life. She sipped her wine, her dark eyes troubled. Lydia’s reaction had unnerved her. She looked genuinely upset; it was the most emotion she’d seen
in her for years.

  Surely she didn’t still have feelings for him? It was a hundred years ago. Surely …

  ‘It’s just, I keep having these dreams.’ Lydia sat on the edge of her bed with Colin by her side.

  He rubbed her back. ‘Go on,’ he encouraged.

  ‘He’s in them, usually naked.’

  ‘Keep going.’ Colin’s eyes widened.

  ‘I don’t know, Col. It’s like he’s always in my mind. I can’t seem to forget him.’ She sniffed dolefully.

  ‘I don’t get it, Lyd. You broke his heart – you were the one who left. Why are you pining for him?’

  ‘I don’t know. I think I made a mistake, Col. A huge mistake.’

  He got to his feet and pulled two bottles of Evian from the minibar. ‘First of all, we need to hydrate.’ He opened both bottles and handed one to her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said gratefully and took a big sip. The cool liquid tasted heavenly, so she drank it greedily.

  Colin sat back down on the bed, took an enormous gulp of water from his own bottle and wiped his upper lip.

  ‘Now, Lyd. Pardon my French, but you need to get a fucking grip. Whining and moaning about some guy you barely knew.’

  She choked on her water.

  ‘Luca was a fling,’ continued Colin. ‘You’re obviously at a low ebb over other things and are using him as a scapegoat.’

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand.

  ‘He’s getting married. He has moved on. Now, you need to put things in perspective.’ He paused to take another gulp of water. ‘This is Sam’s day – you have to be there for her. End of story.’ His brown curls bounced as he spoke.

  Lydia stared at him in shock. Colin had never spoken to her like that in his life. He was always her most loyal supporter; the one who stood by her no matter what.

  ‘You’re right,’ she whispered, in a small voice. ‘You’re so right. I am such an egocentric bitch.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t go that far.’ Colin started to backtrack. ‘It’s just I hate to see you so lost. You’re not the same, Lyd – anyone can see that.’

  ‘You’re so right,’ she repeated. ‘I need to sort it out fast.’

  ‘Stay with me when you get home, I’ll look after you.’ He pulled her into his arms. ‘Forget about Luca and your past. Look to the future.’

  ‘I will, I will,’ she promised, burying her head in his shoulder.

  ‘Who knows? Luca might be bald and fat by now.’

  She giggled. ‘I wish.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘I love you, Col.’

  ‘I love me too. Now, forget about that gorgeous American and let’s discuss Sandra’s uncontrollable spending. I’d just love to see Mark’s face when he sees the bank statement.’

  Chapter 14

  Mathis came to the airport with her to say goodbye. Neither of them spoke as the train whizzed past rows of concrete buildings and parks. He held her hand tightly, gently tracing the inside of her wrist with his finger.

  Lydia couldn’t say anything. She knew how he felt; he had said the night before that he didn’t want her to go.

  They arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport an hour and a half before boarding. Pulling her case, he accompanied her into the Departures hall. It was overbearingly crowded and the cacophony of noise was deafening.

  She extracted her ticket from her bag. He stroked her cheek, his dark eyes troubled.

  ‘Don’t forget me, Leed,’ he said softly. ‘I want to see you again.’

  She buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling his musky smell.

  ‘I won’t ever forget you. This isn’t the end. I mean, you are coming to the wedding with me, aren’t you?’

  ‘If you want me to.’

  ‘I want you to.’ Her tone was final. There was no way she was going to let Luca arrive with the picture-perfect bride-to-be and flaunt her around the place. Mathis was gorgeous and funny; he would be the perfect date to this wedding.

  ‘A bientôt.’ She kissed his lips softly, closing her eyes.

  Pulling her close, he deepened the kiss, pressing her up against him. Nothing existed except them. The milling crowd faded away and all she could hear was his hammering heartbeat.

  It was like history repeating itself, leaving someone behind in an airport. Disentangling herself, she backed away slowly.

  ‘I’ll message you later.’ She waved sadly.

  He blew her a kiss. ‘Je t’aime.’

  She paused for a fraction too long. ‘Me too.’

  With huge effort, she turned around and walked away. His image stayed in her mind: standing in his bomber jacket, his curls wet from the shower. She was fond of him. It’s just the timing, as ever, was not right.

  ‘Valentine O’Brien, move your butt out of that bathroom before I totally freak out!’

  ‘Calm down, for God’s sake!’ Val opened the door of their ensuite, wiping foam off his newly shaven face. ‘We still have an hour.’

  ‘An hour?’ shrieked Colin. ‘Hardly! Her flight is due in at four! I need to have a shower and get out to the airport …’

  ‘Calm down,’ Val repeated gently. ‘The bed is made, the wardrobe is clear. This flat is always abnormally tidy. Relax!’

  Colin bit his lip, his beautiful eyes troubled. ‘Is bacon and cabbage a bit too stereotypically Oirish as a homecoming dinner? Is it too kitsch?’

  ‘No,’ said Val in a bored tone, pulling on his navy hoodie. ‘It’s just Lydia, for fuck’s sake.’

  Colin scowled at him and stalked into the bathroom. ‘I’ll be ready in ten. Then we leave without any delay.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’ Val banged the bedroom door.

  Lydia walked out of Arrivals, pushing a trolley piled high with suitcases.

  ‘Lyd!’ Colin threw himself at her. ‘Welcome home!’

  She hugged him fiercely. ‘It’s so good to be back.’

  ‘He’s been like a dervish all day, cleaning the flat and preparing the dinner,’ Val informed her. ‘It’s like a hotel.’

  ‘I can imagine.’ Lydia smiled and leaned in for a kiss. ‘You know that tidy really isn’t on my list of priorities?’

  ‘We need to discuss that,’ said Colin breezily. ‘Anyway, let’s go. I’m pretty sure all your stuff will fit in the Audi.’

  The evening was dark when they emerged outside.

  ‘Any news?’ she asked as they walked along.

  ‘Nothing really. Ollie called up the other night. He and Alannah were at some comedy gig, I can’t remember which one. They called here for drinks afterwards as it finished quite early. Anyway, we had a nice night. He’s so different around her – so civilised.’

  Lydia looked dubious. ‘I’d like to see that.’

  ‘Molly broke up with Niall – remember – the guy she kissed at the Arts Ball?’

  She shook her head. ‘I have no idea. There have been too many to count.’

  They reached the car.

  ‘No more news from my side anyway,’ he said. ‘How did Laura take your departure?’ He flipped open the tiny boot and proceeded to stuff Lydia’s bags into the cramped space.

  ‘She was fine. A bit teary, but fine.’ Lydia squeezed into the back seat. ‘She’s thinking of going back to London anyway. I think we’ve all come to the end of our waitressing careers.’

  ‘Her parents are loaded though, aren’t they?’ asked Colin, slamming the boot closed. ‘That’s what she told me.’

  ‘Yeah, I think so. Still, that doesn’t matter when it comes to a career. She wants to make it on her own.’

  ‘I get that,’ agreed Val, buckling his seatbelt. ‘People should never rely on their parents.’ He gave Colin a pointed look.

  ‘Oh, back off,’ said Colin mildly. ‘If you ever get the guts to pop the question, it’ll be your inheritance too.’

  ‘This is your room!’ Colin opened the door of the second bedroom in his flat. ‘It’s not huge, but it has a nice view of the river.’

  His excited face beamed at Lyd
ia. She peered in the door of the spare room and gasped. The bed was made up in luxurious cream sheets, slightly embroidered at the edge and a plump duvet. Four silk pillows were piled on the top end, along with a chocolate on the pillow. A huge flat-screen TV hung on the wall and shelves lined with books were underneath. There was a rack full of DVDs, all the chick flicks they used to watch in the old days. The mahogany wardrobe stood majestically by the window, which was framed by two embroidered cream drapes.

  ‘Oh Colin, it’s perfect!’ she exclaimed, turning to her cousin and hugging him fiercely. ‘Val’s right. It is like a hotel.’

  ‘I installed Sky multiroom too,’ he said proudly. ‘So you can watch your own stuff.’

  She kissed his forehead. ‘I love it so much.’

  Val deposited her enormous case on the ground, along with her other smaller bags. ‘Welcome home, Lyd,’ he said, rubbing her arm. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  Lydia beamed at him and felt relieved. She had felt uncomfortable around Val since the whole affair debacle as he had been on Jessica’s side when she and Luca had been having their fling behind her back. Afterwards, Lydia had sensed slight animosity from him – only slight, but there nonetheless. Today, however, the air felt clear. He seemed genuinely happy to see her.