by Helen Brooks
Today it was the firm’s Christmas drinks party in the afternoon when everyone would be very jolly and upbeat, pretending to have a good time even though myriad office politics would be simmering under the surface. Rachel shook her head at herself. She was getting grouchy, she’d have to watch that. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up a crabby old spinster whom nobody liked, living alone with just a cat for company. Except she didn’t particularly like cats.
She dressed with more care than normal that day with the Christmas party in mind, her silk-mix white top with silver edging and smart white trousers teamed with silver boots and bag, all new and bought for Christmas Day at Jennie’s parents’ house when everyone dressed up.
As the firm provided ‘nibbles’ in generous quantities, no one bothered with lunch, and Rachel and a couple of colleagues were standing with plates full of deliciously filled vol au vents and tiny cream cheese and bacon baked potatoes as they chatted with a group of clients when someone hovering on the perimeter of her vision caused her to turn her head.
Giles. For a moment she couldn’t believe he’d had the audacity to come, but the next moment she thought, Why not? That was Giles all over, shameless. When Melanie had come to see her and she’d told him exactly what she thought of him there had been no remorse, only regret he’d been found out.
She turned back to the others and continued the conversation as though her heart wasn’t thudding like a sledgehammer, but once the group dispersed and she moved on to talk to other clients, as the firm expected their employees to do, Giles was at her elbow.
‘Rachel.’ His voice was as smooth and carefully seductive as she remembered. ‘I’ve been longing for this moment. I only came today to see you.’
‘Hello, Giles.’ She didn’t smile and her voice had all the warmth of an arctic winter. ‘How are you?’
‘Still bereft at losing you.’
She stared at him, amazed that even Giles would dare to take such a tack, and the pale blue eyes with their blond lashes smiled confidently back at her. For the first time she saw the emptiness in those eyes and the weakness in the mouth she’d once thought so attractive. She must have been blind before.
‘I suppose you’ve heard Melanie and I are no longer together?’ he said softly. ‘It’s been a little while now.’
Rachel shook her head, assailed with so many feelings she couldn’t name them except one—self-disgust that she’d ever got involved with this man. He was as different from Zac as chalk to cheese—how could she have imagined for one moment that she cared for him? Actually contemplated marrying him?
‘She met someone.’ He couldn’t quite hide the amazement that his wife could prefer another man to him.
‘She left you?’ Well, good on you, Melanie. The worm had finally turned and she couldn’t be more pleased.
He nodded, flicking back the quiff that fell over his forehead. ‘In the autumn. Of course, the marriage was never right to begin with. Melanie was so difficult and possessive.’ He did the wistful little-boy look that had once charmed her but now made her feel slightly sick as he said, ‘I never got over you, I guess that was partly the trouble. Can I take you out to dinner, Rachel? Please? I need to tell you how sorry I am.’
When hell froze over. ‘You’ve told me, Giles.’
‘Not properly.’ He moved closer. ‘We had something good, didn’t we? And I know you loved me. We can be like that again, but it will be better this time. I can give you all of me.’
Ugh, over her dead body.
Her face must have spoken for itself because his changed, the winsome smile disappearing. ‘I know you’re still hurt and angry and I can understand that, but give me a chance to make it up to you. Please, Rachel. I wanted to tell you about Melanie, I swear it, but I was terrified of losing you.’
In the first devastating days after Melanie had come to see her, she had imagined Giles coming crawling one day and the satisfaction she’d feel when she sent him packing. Funnily enough, all she felt now was an overwhelming sense of relief she was rid of this man. Quietly, aware of the odd surreptitious glance her way from colleagues who knew what had happened, she said, ‘I’m not hurt or angry, Giles. That only lasted a short time. I’ve moved on, that’s all.’
As she turned to move away he swung her back with a hard hand at her elbow. ‘What’s his name?’ he hissed.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Aware of where they were, she couldn’t do what she wanted to do, which was probably a good thing. She’d never indulged in physical violence before. As it was, she jerked her arm free and glared at him. ‘Don’t touch me, Giles.’
‘There’s someone else, isn’t there?’
It was for all the world as though he was the injured party. Freshly amazed at the sheer cheek of him, she took a moment to calm down before she said, ‘If you’re asking if I’m in love with the most fabulous man on the planet, the answer’s yes. But even before I met him I was well and truly over you, Giles. It didn’t take long. Now, please leave me alone.’
‘You little—’
As Giles went to reach out to her again, one of her colleagues—a six-foot-four rugby player with a body like a barn door—grasped his wrist none too gently. Liam was a devoted family man with two children and a dog, and he’d been outraged on her behalf when the truth about Giles had become known. Now he smiled pleasantly as he said, ‘If you’re not out of here in two minutes flat, I’ll take great pleasure in kicking your butt all the way down the stairs. OK?’ He placed Giles’s arm by his side, patting his suit jacket and continuing to smile into the pale face, which had gone a shade paler. Giles was clearly scared to death.
‘How—how dare you? I’m a client here, I pay your wages.’
Liam cut across the spluttering by the simple expedient of glancing at his watch. ‘Thirty seconds gone already. Goodbye, Mr Hammond. And merry Christmas.’
For a moment Rachel thought Giles was going to protest further, but after a furious glare at them both, he marched across the room and disappeared out of the door. Her body relaxed and she breathed out shakily. Liam grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter and handed it to her. ‘The second option would have been more fun,’ he murmured with a sly grin.
She smiled. ‘Not if we’d both ended up getting the sack.’
‘True.’ He indicated the glass. ‘Drink, it’ll soothe the jangled nerves. And I don’t think that creep will be back.’
‘Thanks, Liam. Not for the wine, for stepping in when needed.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t believe I was stupid enough to get mixed up with him and believe he was on the level.’
‘It happens to the best of us, and while we’re on the subject, I’d just like you to know that none of us here knew he was married when you started seeing him. We’d have told you if we’d known because you’re not that type of girl, we’re all aware of that.’
Touched, she patted the big, brawny arm under the smart suit. ‘Thanks again.’ People could be so nice. Now, if Zac could just walk in the door and take her in his arms and tell her he had realised he couldn’t do without her, this little scenario would be rounded off nicely.
He didn’t, of course.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ON CHRISTMAS EVE the cold weather from the north, which had blown in over the last days, promised snow. When Rachel awoke that morning she stretched lazily, glancing across at Jennie who was still buried under her covers like a dormouse. They’d both broken up for the holidays the day before and intended to travel to Kent later that morning in Jennie’s trusty little Fiesta, which was ancient but which ran like a dream.
Climbing out of bed and padding across to the window, Rachel drew back the curtains and peered out, to the accompaniment of loud snores from Susan’s room. Fleeting wisps of silver tinged the grey-white winter sky and at the end of the mews the main road was already jammed with traffic.
Susan and Henry were flying to Edinburgh just before lunch to spend Christmas with Susan’s family, and Rachel and Jennie fully expected he
r to come back engaged to Henry. Jennie had just applied for a job at a different fashion house and gained an interview after Christmas. If she succeeded in securing the post, it would mean she would be travelling three weeks out of every four and rarely be home.
Everything was changing.
Rachel sat looking out for some time, her heart aching and her mind grappling with what the new year was sure to bring. Hard work mostly, she told herself wryly. She needed to prove she could do the manager’s job from day one and that meant long hours and total commitment. But she didn’t mind that. If nothing else, work would be a welcome panacea for the emptiness of her personal life.
Unbidden, Zac suddenly thrust himself onto the screen of her mind. She closed her eyes as her heart lurched and then raced.
He’d be involved in that big family Christmas he’d described to her. What had he said? ‘Christmas is a time for being where the heart is.’ Would he think of her at all? Or had he already found someone else? Someone who was prepared to meet him on his terms? A succession of beautiful women joined the picture.
Ten minutes of brooding later, she suddenly jumped up, angry and irritated with herself for doing exactly what she’d determined she wouldn’t do from now on. Someone or other, Confucius perhaps, had said you had to accept what you couldn’t change. Mind you, that Chinese philosopher of two and a half thousand years ago hadn’t fallen in love with Zac Lawson.
Walking through to the kitchen, she made a pot of coffee and had just sat down with a mug when Jennie and Susan joined her. They had breakfast and opened the post, which was mainly a few last-minute Christmas cards, and once dressed began to load Jennie’s car with brightly wrapped packages and their cases and bags. Henry arrived for Susan at half-past nine and after waving the two off in a taxi to the airport, Rachel and Jennie had another coffee before setting off themselves.
The traffic was pretty horrendous in the city but eventually, after waiting in one traffic jam after another, they were clear of inner London and properly on their way. The journey was mostly on A roads, and although it was bitterly cold and overcast, the first flakes of wispy, lazy snow didn’t begin to fall until after they’d stopped for lunch at a nice little oak and brass pub and were on their way again.
Rachel was a bit worried about Jennie. Her friend had been perfectly all right while she’d eaten her steak and ale pie and veg, followed by a large helping of strawberry cheesecake, but then they’d gone to the ladies before leaving and she’d had to wait ages for Jennie in the little lobby the toilets led off. When Jennie had eventually emerged she hadn’t seemed herself at all.
‘What’s the matter?’ She’d taken one look at Jennie’s face and suspected the worse. ‘Have you got a tummy upset?’
‘No. Yes.’ Jennie seemed unable to make up her mind. ‘I mean, possibly. I don’t feel quite…right.’
‘Do you want me to drive?’
‘No, no, I’m OK for driving. I’ll tell you if that changes.’
‘I used to have a Fiesta when I was at uni, don’t forget, so I’m used to them, even though I haven’t driven for a couple of years.’ When she had sold her last car she hadn’t bothered to get another, deciding it was more hassle than it was worth and tubes and trains were so handy. Jennie, on the other hand, regularly popped home to see one or another of her large family and loved having her own transport. ‘Don’t soldier on if you feel unwell,’ she added with another worried glance at her friend as they had exited the pub and Jennie got into the driver’s seat of the car.
After they had been on the road for half an hour and Jennie hadn’t spoken once, Rachel knew she must be feeling ill. In the nine years or so since she’d known Jennie, she couldn’t ever recall her friend being silent for more than five minutes unless she was asleep, and even then she sometimes nattered away six to the dozen in an unintelligible gabble.
It began to snow more heavily, fat feathery flakes that immediately settled on the frozen ground and turned the verges at the side of the road white.
By the time they came to Tenterden and had only another ten miles or so to travel until they reached the pretty little village where Jennie’s parents lived, Rachel was convinced Jennie was on the verge of collapsing. If she’d asked Jennie once she had asked her a dozen times if she was all right, and the answer had always been the same. ‘Fine, don’t fuss. Let me drive in peace.’
The windscreen wipers were labouring to clear the snow now, and although it was only mid-afternoon it seemed much later. Since Tenterden they’d been travelling on a B road, passing small country towns and villages where Christmas tree lights in the windows of houses lit the snowy scene with a touch of magic in the darkening afternoon.
Rachel didn’t trouble herself to try and make conversation any more, she was lost in heart-wrenching, painful memories of that other snowy day nearly three weeks ago. That blizzard had been the means of her getting to know Zac more intimately than he would have liked; thinking back, she was sure he wouldn’t have revealed so much but for the unusual circumstances. He probably resented the fact he’d let his guard down and talked about his baby son and failed marriage. He’d want to brush that under the carpet now and forget he’d ever known an unremarkable English girl who was as dull as ditchwater compared to the glitzy, dazzling women who normally featured in his life.
She was so immersed in her thoughts that she didn’t realise they’d pulled into Jennie’s parents’ drive until Jennie cut the engine with a deep sigh. ‘Whew. I wouldn’t want to do that every day. I can enjoy the snow now I don’t have to drive in it, though.’
‘You were great.’ She had been. But that was Jennie all over. She wouldn’t let anything like a snowstorm stop her from getting where she wanted to be, however she was feeling. ‘Now tell me honestly, how do you feel?’
Instead of answering her, Jennie pulled open her door. ‘Stay put. I’ll get Dad and some of the others to help carry everything inside. Just tell them which things are breakable, would you?’ And before Rachel could answer, she’d shut the door again and hurried off, leaving Rachel staring after her in surprise.
Rachel watched her friend leave deep imprints in the snow as she walked up to the front door and knocked. The door opened, she caught a brief glimpse of light and colour and then it closed again. And remained closed as the minutes ticked by.
Charming. Rachel looked out at the whirling snow and then the cottage. All the curtains were closed and the glow from within seemed to accentuate that she was sitting out here alone. Her mother’s words—which she hadn’t repeated to a soul—flashed through her mind. ‘Forcing yourself on Jennie’s family or Susan’s year after year, they must wince at the sound of your name.’ Perhaps her mother had been right after all.
If it had been within her power at that precise moment to transport herself somewhere else—anywhere else—she would have done so. Mortified at the realisation that she was within a moment of making a complete fool of herself by breaking down, she closed her eyes tightly and fought against tears with every fibre of her being, hating the self-pity.
She didn’t hear the front door open again. The first she knew that someone was at the car was when the driver’s door was pulled open and a big body slid inside.
‘Hallo, Rachel,’ Zac said very softly.
Rachel’s hands flew to her mouth. She blinked, but he was still there. This definitely wasn’t Jennie’s dad. Not unless she had finally flipped and lost it completely. ‘You—you’re in Canada,’ she muttered through her fingers.
‘Why would I be in Canada when you’re here?’ He reached out and moved her hands from her mouth, kissing her until they were both trembling.
‘No.’ From somewhere she found the strength to draw back, her eyes betraying her wild hope and confusion. ‘You left. You—you don’t want me, not in the same way I want you.’
‘If you want me so much that you can’t sleep or eat or think, that every day is a lifetime and every night is an eternity, then I want you in the same way.’
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‘No.’ With a despairing sigh, she shook her head. ‘You said commitment is a route you’ll never go down. You said—’
‘I said a lot of things, my love, except what was in my heart.’ Bending his head, he captured her mouth again, his lips firm and gentle and so, so persuasive. When he broke the contact it was to cup her face in his big hands. ‘Listen to me, honey, because I mean every word I’m saying. From the first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew.’ His mouth quirked. ‘I saw you and it was as instant as that, and I don’t care what the so-called experts might say about love at first sight being impossible. I knew. I knew you were the woman who would turn my life upside down and it frightened me to death because I wasn’t ready for it. Maybe I’d never have been ready, I don’t know, but it happened and I can’t go back to how things were. I don’t want to go back to how things were. I’ve met you and I can’t let you go.’
‘But—’
‘What?’ He stared into her confused blue eyes.
‘You could have anyone.’
‘I don’t want anyone, I want you. And at first, when you were so hostile, I felt relief, because it takes two. And you transparently didn’t want to know. But I couldn’t let it alone—I couldn’t let you alone. I told myself it was just a sexual thing.’ His voice gentled. ‘But I’ve felt those before and this was different. I knew that, but I didn’t want to believe it.’
‘But why?’ She couldn’t let herself believe it. ‘Why me?’
‘I don’t know. Who can explain what causes one person to fall in love with another? I only know I’ve never felt this way before and while it scares the hell out of me, I don’t want to feel any different. I love you, Rachel.’
She stared at him, longing to reach out and touch him, longing for him to kiss her again but terrified that the bubble was going to burst. After all he’d said, could this be real?
‘Anyone looking at me would say I have it all,’ he continued without false pride. ‘Wealth, success, power and a lifestyle where I call all the shots. But I’ve made a king-size mess of my life and I know it. When I held my son in my arms…’ He paused, and now she did reach out, her touch tentative. ‘I knew I’d failed him. He was perfect, beautiful and he should have had a life, he should have breathed and laughed and grown up to be a man one day. But I’d been feeling trapped, resenting that I was suddenly thrust into being a husband and father. I hadn’t really wanted him until that moment and then it was too late.’