But worse than her worries about what money might be raised for the village she loved, was the fear of what this spelled for her family. With Delyth and Mair spreading their poison, was there anyone left who would believe her side of the story? Hers wasn’t such a very big crime, but even if she got the chance to explain, would her daughter, fragile, flooded with hormones and struggling with a new baby, understand? Now she was afraid of what else she might lose.
There was no sign of Huw when she got in but, since he frequently took himself off to read, Alys saw no point in disturbing him. She took the stairs quietly, avoiding the squeakier treads and only felt able to relax once she’d closed her bedroom door.
She wiped off her makeup carefully, clinging to the comfort of an old routine, put away the purple silk dress bought for the occasion in a spirit of such optimism and, sinking gratefully on to her bed, thanked her lucky stars that she could escape Huw’s scrutiny, at least until morning. Given Kitty’s very real preoccupation when she’d first arrived back home, it had been easy enough to fob her off with the excuse that Huw had moved to a spare room because he was having trouble sleeping. Now, instead of feeling embarrassed by their separate beds, she was relieved.
Pulling up the covers, she closed her eyes, even though sleep seemed unlikely. Then the door opened and Huw appeared, lit by the landing light, his warm brown eyes creased into a smile.
‘Alys,’ he chided gently. ‘Fancy keeping me in suspense! Aren’t you going to tell me how it went?’
‘I didn’t think you were that interested,’ she mumbled through a fake yawn.
‘This place doesn’t run itself, you know,’ he said, perching on the edge of the bed. ‘Someone’s had to do the paperwork whilst you’ve been gallivanting at these meetings.’
When he reached across and smoothed a lock of hair off from her face, she was unable to stop the guilty tear that slid down her face.
‘Oh, Huw,’ she said, sitting up and reaching for him.
‘Don’t you want to tell me all about it?’ he asked, gently.
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ Coralie forced herself to put away her own pain to do what she could for the young man sitting across the room from her. Ned Wallace, driving without due care and attention, had been found guilty of killing an innocent pedestrian, but she felt responsible for the blood on his hands.
‘Give me a moment, will you?’ he said, closing his eyes.
Was this some kind of karmic justice that he’d picked this moment to turn up on her doorstep? Just when she was beginning to think that being happy again was a real possibility? She brushed aside her thoughts; the least she owed Ned after everything he’d endured was her time.
‘Regaining my freedom was a big high – but now it’s beginning to sink in that I’ll never get my old life back.’
Coralie watched him with a heavy heart. If only she’d listened to her inner voice, none of this would have happened. She’d gradually become aware of a sense of unease about her career at the consultancy. The content hadn’t changed, so she realised something had shifted within herself. Work that had once appealed to her strong sense of order began to feel unjust and she started to wonder if some companies were simply hiring her as a face-saving means to cover ruthless cuts.
If only she’d resigned, she might have prevented all the misery for countless unseen victims instead of swelling corporation coffers. If only she hadn’t struck Ned Wallace from the payroll, Hayley Butterfield might be a qualified teacher, enjoying her pupils, her friends and her family. But if she could save Ned, convince him that he had a future worth living for, then perhaps she could help salve her own conscience?
‘So, Girl in a Coral Dress, how does it feel to have all eyes on you?’ he asked, softly. ‘I wonder if there’s any money in it for me if I go to the papers with some juicy snippets about the model?’
Rock ducked out of his way as Ned reached out and tried to stroke him.
‘If you need money,’ Coralie said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her sudden alarm, ‘I’m sure I can help.’
He smiled and she was conscious once again of what a pleasant face he had, something that had struck her when they were first introduced, although the soft brown hair with its natural highlights was much shorter now. There were shadows, too, under the grey eyes.
‘Oh, Coralie,’ he said, softly, ‘what do you take me for, a blackmailer?’ He shook his head. ‘You gave me hope. You stood by me when everyone walked away.’
Coralie looked away, sparing him further humiliation as he lifted his hand to his eyes to rub fiercely at the tears welling there. Horribly aware that his old self would have been mortified by the thin shirt, stiff supermarket jeans and fake Timberlands he was wearing, she let pity overcome her reservations and resolved to do whatever she could to support him on the long road ahead.
‘You gave me some dignity, made me feel different to the rest of them,’ he continued.
‘Well, you were different. It’s not like you were a murderer or an armed robber …’
‘Or a nonce?’ he said. ‘I just killed a young woman, right?’
‘You didn’t set out to harm anyone,’ she replied, at a loss again, knowing that she was unable to make it better. ‘But you’ve served your sentence now.’
He nodded. ‘It takes a bit of getting used to, being out,’ he said, looking calmer. ‘It’s the choice, you see. In there, once you’ve answered all the questions, filled in all the forms, handed over your property to be bagged and tagged, part of you doesn’t exist anymore. Right now, I’m not even capable of choosing my own toiletries.’
She felt another wave of pity for him. ‘If I’d have known you were about to be released, I could have met you.’
He leaned towards her. ‘If you hadn’t missed your last visit, you would have known, but it looks as if you’ve had other stuff on your mind.’
Unable to stop herself, she shrunk further back in her chair. He noticed, and buried his face in his hands before returning his gaze to her, pupils like black pin-pricks in his pale face. Rock yowled and jumped up on her lap.
‘I haven’t come to make trouble, Coralie. I think I’ve got a job lined up in a hotel kitchen in North Wales, but you were sort of on the way. In so far that anywhere’s on the way when you haven’t got a car. I only want to get my head down somewhere safe for the night – this sofa’s fine – and a lift to the station tomorrow and then I’ll be out of your hair for good.’ He gave a short laugh, ‘I don’t think there’s much of a future in this relationship, do you?’
Her throat constricted and her chest felt tight, squeezing her lungs and making her heart pound in protest. It wasn’t just their relationship that was about to end. Not once the word got out that he was there. But everyone else had turned their backs on Ned Wallace; she owed it to him to make amends.
What the fuck? In the old cottage’s bare bathroom the next morning, no amount of cold water splashed over Gethin’s shivering body could turn Coralie’s words into anything that made sense. Thinking that he might have overreacted, he’d returned to her house much later the previous evening, for what? To prove to himself that he’d been mistaken? That Coralie wasn’t really inside with another man? But the welcoming hall light that usually spilled through the glass door panel across the front path had been extinguished, whilst the living-room lamps still shone brightly behind the closed curtains. The longer he’d stood in the dark lane with his imagination driving him insane, the worse he felt.
Now, hurriedly drying himself on the beach towel he’d purchased in his whirlwind shopping spree along the journey, he dragged on some clothes and rolled up his sleeping bag, along with all those romantic notions he’d been nursing. Huh! To think that he’d rejected the idea of booking a room at The Cabin at Abersaith for the duration of his stay because he liked the thought of being closer to Coralie.
With his rosy glow to keep him warm, he’d fantasised about entertaining Coralie there. Imagined the two of them, sitting in a r
ing of tea lights whilst they chinked glasses and drank a toast to each other, having feasted on something clever he’d rustled up for her. Going out to watch the stars, or wind their way down to Penmorfa cove to taste each other’s kisses against the backdrop of the wild sea. So much for that! Might as well book himself into a hotel in London, before catching his flight home, and enjoy the nightlife there instead.
Gethin surveyed the fragments of his dreams: two glasses, two plates, a box of candles. He thought about gathering the lot up in the fleecy blanket he had bought, too, and kicking it over the nearest cliff. Since it wouldn’t help him or the environment he left everything where it was. Whoever turned up at the cottage next could have a romantic tête-à-tête instead. Closing the chalky blue door behind him for the last time, Gethin couldn’t help but catch his breath at the beauty of the landscape in the early morning light.
The location of the cottage was lovely; secluded and sheltered on one side by tall trees yet with superb views to the front of swathes of green unfolding to the sea. He was almost sorry he wasn’t coming back. Reaching the car he turned to look at the house once more. In the soft sunshine it looked friendly and surprisingly inviting. For the first time in his life, he considered the possibility that there might have been more to Gwyn’s move than downsizing to save money. Perhaps his father had simply been striving to remain in striking distance of everything he held dear?
Another message he’d got too late, Gethin thought, driving slowly past the farmhouse and making a mental note to make contact with Alys. No matter how lovely the cottage looked, it was the last place on earth he wanted to live. Not when it meant seeing Coralie with Ned Wallace, for crying out loud. Being tender-hearted was one thing, but shacking up with the guy on his release? Well, he wasn’t going to stick around to find out how her pity had somehow been twisted into some sick form of love whilst the man was in prison.
Yet, whatever noises his solicitor made about the terms of the Will being too uncertain to be enforced, neither could he sit back and think of the other beneficiary, whom he detested, living there. What a mess!
Paying for petrol in the garage where he’d stopped to fill up before the long journey, Gethin’s glance strayed to the flickering images on the wall-mounted plasma screen babbling in the background. ‘Penmorfa’s Vicar is now in the frame!’ said the reporter, struggling to keep a straight face. ‘Racy Reverend, minxy Marianne Parry, is under pressure as the lid is lifted on her secret past. But attention is turning to the quiet young woman who villagers say moved here less than a year ago and about whom very little is known. The question everyone’s asking is “Who’s that girl in the coral dress?”’ Good luck with that, he thought, hardening his heart, because he sure as hell didn’t know.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The pale morning light crept behind the curtains and fell across the bed. It seemed a lifetime ago that Alys had sat in the kitchen longing for her husband and daughter to notice her. To feel something more than the seconds being counted away. Now, she’d certainly got their attention and it spelled the ruin of all her hopes and dreams for her family.
Huw was curled into her, one arm across her chest, his body warm and familiar. Alys listened to the rise and fall of his breathing, whilst she lay very still, trying to make the moment last, treasuring it for as long as possible. Eventually, though, Huw began to stir. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, her heart skipping a beat as he pulled away to smile at her.
‘That wasn’t so terrible, was it?’ He grinned, looking, despite the silver hair, as boyish as when they’d made love for the very first time on a sweet, summer night.
‘Huw, it was wonderful.’ But simply being by his side again was wonderful, however fleetingly.
He propped himself up against the pillows to look at her, reaching out to brush away the tears that were flowing unchecked down her cheek. ‘Oh, Alys, what have I done to you? Where do I begin to tell you how sorry I am?’
‘You’ve done nothing to apologise for,’ she gulped.
‘Oh yes, I have – I should have responded to your pain far sooner. But just when I’d got my head around going to the doctors, they replaced Doctor Thomas with that slip of a girl and I got cold feet. When I got round to seeing her about my back, she asked if everything else was all right, so I finally mentioned the problem and she changed my blood pressure tablets. If only I’d known how easy it would be.’
‘You wouldn’t have been on those tablets if I hadn’t forced us to move.’
‘You didn’t force us, cariad, it was a joint decision, the right one for our family. You don’t have to shoulder the responsibility for everything, you know. I’m only sorry you felt you had to. I was embarrassed, Alys,’ he said, his soft, brown eyes revealing just how exposed and vulnerable he was feeling. ‘You know what it’s like here. I was sure everyone would find out what was wrong and everyone would be talking about me behind my back. So I tried to ignore it. I kept thinking that it would all get better, as if by burying my head in the sand the problem would just go away. No wonder you lost faith in me.’
‘Oh, Huw.’ She swallowed, her throat aching. ‘I never lost faith in you. I thought it was me. I felt so old and unattractive – I didn’t mind not making love, but you wouldn’t come near me, wouldn’t hold me …’
He studied her face. ‘How could you have doubted your beauty when that boy from the café was so taken with you? Someone who was young and vigorous – not like me.’
‘Huw,’ she said, desperate for him to believe her, ‘I was never unfaithful to you.’
He leaned back against the old brass bedstead Alys had inherited from her aunt, the place where they’d always been able to make up after their quarrels. Until now. ‘Infidelity isn’t always a physical act. I used to watch you laugh and talk to Jerzy in a way you hadn’t done with me for months.’
Alys fiddled with the cream wool of the cover she’d painstakingly crocheted when they were first married. ‘He was just a lost boy, Huw. Someone far from home, stuck in a relationship that was draining the life from him. You know how demanding Marika could be.’
‘True,’ Huw agreed amiably, ‘but I don’t suppose it helped her when she found him trying to seduce you in the potting shed.’
‘Oh, Huw, hardly!’ she protested, feeling herself blushing. ‘He forgot himself and kissed me, that’s all.’
‘And you kissed him back, according to Marika. She wasn’t very happy when she came running to me,’ he added, sternly.
Alys shook her head in disbelief. ‘Why didn’t you say anything before, Huw?’
‘Least said, soonest mended? I was afraid of losing you altogether,’ he said, looking abashed. ‘Thought if I pushed you too hard you might be off on a plane to Gdansk!’
‘That wasn’t even a remote possibility! Nothing happened,’ she said, meeting his gaze. ‘I realised immediately how foolishly I was behaving and stopped right there. It never went any further. I do admit to being flattered, especially …’
‘Especially since I’d withdrawn my services,’ Huw said, dryly.
A harmless crush, she’d told herself at the time. Nevertheless, she had found herself watching the way Jerzy moved and wondering about his touch. So when he had held her close and kissed her, she’d wallowed in the release of that sudden, sharp, illicit thrill … until the realisation of her own stupidity left her cold.
‘Oh, Huw, what kind of support was I when you needed me? How can you possibly want me to stay?’ She shook her head, swallowing tears at the sadness in his warm brown eyes. ‘You know it’ll be all over the village now, that I’d been having a torrid affair? Delyth and Mair will see to that. I think they’ve been longing to drop that bombshell when they thought it would do most damage. Kitty believes it, too.’
‘Hush!’ he said, moving closer. ‘We’ve both made mistakes, Alys, but no one can hurt us unless we let them.’
Alys closed her eyes trying to stop the tears. She ran her hands across the silver hairs of his
chest and breathed in the warm, male smell of him, her own dear Huw. Daring to open her eyes she found him watching her: tender, loving, filled with wanting.
‘Oh, I’ve missed you so much,’ she murmured, shivering as he pulled her close.
‘I’ve been lonely too, love. And I know that my life’s not complete without you,’ he said, gently folding her to him, kissing her face and stroking her back before drawing her down to the bed.
‘Huw, the curtains are still closed. They’ll be wondering where we are at the garden centre.’
‘If Delyth and Mair like to talk,’ she heard him say as her mind went blank. ‘Let’s give them plenty to gossip about.’
‘You shouldn’t have long to wait. It’s a reliable service even if the trains are few and far between,’ said Coralie, letting the engine tick over whilst she waited for Ned to get out of the van. ‘Are you sure you’re all right for money?’
‘Coralie.’ He shocked her by reaching across to switch off the ignition. ‘Hayley Butterfield is dead. It doesn’t matter how much you try to do for everyone, it’s never going to bring her back.’
She winced and took a long deep breath, but it still shuddered in her throat.
‘And it’s not your fault. You need to know that.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘I was the one driving far too fast along a quiet shopping parade at night. I told myself I’d probably clipped my wing mirror on something. And then I looked in my rear view mirror … I panicked, drove home and – well, you know the rest. I still can’t believe that I thought I could get on with my life.’
He shook his head. ‘I pretended everything was normal. Didn’t even tell my fiancée I’d been made redundant. I watched the appeals. I agreed what a bloody terrible thing it was that someone had taken away a young girl’s life. I even said what a good person she must have been, carrying an organ donor card so that her death wasn’t completely senseless.’
‘You were distraught; you’d just lost your job, your income. None of that would have happened if I hadn’t visited your offices in the first place!’
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