by Fiona Harper
‘Throw me a crumb, Adele? For starters, you were very vague about why you refused to return my calls when I was in the States. You can’t have been sulking for a whole nine months. What did I do that upset you so much? I can’t fix it if I don’t know. I’ve said my piece, made my explanations. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to fix our relationship.’
She shook her head.
‘Tell me why you were so angry you decided it was easier to walk away and ask for a divorce. I know I was stupid, but I need to know what it was that I did that hurt you so badly. You’re always saying you want me to take things seriously. Well, I’m not wisecracking now, am I? Talk to me.’
‘It’s not that…’
He took a quick look at her. She seemed on the verge of tears.
‘I can’t talk about this now, Nick, and you need to concentrate on the road. We’ll talk later, OK.’
It was a statement, not a question. Subject closed.
Once again she’d slammed the door in his face. How was he ever going to get through to this woman? He’d been so optimistic this morning, but now he was starting to worry Adele had been right when she’d said they had a lot to sort through before they could have a future together.
The drive to Invergarrig went a little way to calming Adele’s nerves. They took the road that passed by the side of Loch Lomond and stopped in the tiny village of Luss to eat the packed lunch Della had made them.
The roads were lined with tiny little stone cottages and, in the February air, smoke rose from almost every chimney. The sun was low and everything seemed to be tinted yellow and grey as they walked down to the small beach on the shores of the loch and sat on a bench to eat their sandwiches, a Thermos of soup and home-made cake.
Nick wasn’t saying much, but she could hardly blame him. She’d chickened out, big time.
Honesty truly was the only way forward, but laying it all out there for him—her fears he’d walk away if she proved less than perfect, the miscarriage—meant she was giving up the one thing she had left: control. If she opened up to him, spilled her soul out at his feet, he’d have all the power. And, if he chose to leave her a second time, she’d wither.
Let’s face it, she told herself. She’d only been hanging on by a thread last time.
But then again, if she didn’t open up now, she might lose him anyway. If only she could be sure. She needed guarantees that it was going to work this time.
Nick’s voice interrupted her shilly-shallying. ‘Do you want that?’
She looked down to the remaining half a sandwich on her lap. Thick white crusty bread with slabs of cheese and chutney. It looked lovely, but she couldn’t face any more of it.
‘No. You go ahead.’
She stood up suddenly. ‘I’ll be back in a sec. I need to make a call.’
Nick had no option but to shrug his agreement as his mouth was still full.
She wandered along the shore and checked her mobile. There was a signal—just, but it got stronger as she moved towards the tourist shops near the wooden jetty.
She pressed the speed-dial button to call Mona’s number and let it ring.
‘Hello?’
‘It’s me.’
‘Hang on a tick…’
She could hear Mona’s muffled instructions to Josh to colour in nicely while Mummy was on the phone.
‘OK, you got me. What’s the news from Scotland? Have you brained the ex with a haggis yet?’
Adele chuckled. ‘He’s not technically my ex, Mona. And, no, I haven’t resorted to using offal as a weapon.’
‘Too bad. What’s the boy wonder got to say for himself, then?’
She sighed. ‘He wants to give it another go.’
Mona made a sound that was halfway between a grunt and a snort.
‘He says it’s going to be different this time.’
‘They all say that, Adele. They always have rational, reasonable excuses for their bad behaviour then make you feel awful if you don’t buy into them.’
‘I know, I know, but he is different…or maybe it’s me that’s different. I can’t tell.’
Mona’s voice softened a little. ‘Just be on your guard. A leopard can’t change its spots, even if it swears blind it can. Even if it wants to. Don’t you remember how he made you feel?’
Frustrated, irritated and ready to scream. But, when things were good between them, life had been exciting. She’d felt sexy and wonderful and treasured. The bottom line was: Nick made her happy.
‘No, I haven’t forgotten.’
‘That leopard of yours can be very charming when he wants to be, Adele. Don’t be blinded by it. See what is really underneath, that’s all I’m saying.’
For the first time ever, she thought she really did.
‘OK, I’ll be careful. Take care, Mona.’
She so badly wanted to trust her instincts, but what if Mona was right? What she was experiencing with Nick right now wasn’t real life. It might seem new and exciting, but how long until the whole thing seemed old and tired again?
‘Ring me again if you need moral support, OK?’
‘OK.’
‘Bye.’
Adele said goodbye and hung up. She looked down the beach to where Nick was. He had finished his lunch and was skipping stones on the loch’s surface. Part of her longed to join him, to giggle and cuddle and wander back to the car arm in arm, but she didn’t know how to break through the glass wall she’d built between them.
Mona’s words had set off a chain of thoughts she wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with. Was this reconciliation just wishful thinking? Smoke and mirrors? She wished she knew. Real marriages couldn’t be patched up with a little digital trickery.
Nick would always believe that a little tweak here, a little glue there, and most things could be fixed. It was what he did best. But some relationships, once broken, were broken. She knew that for a fact.
Nick succeeded in skipping a stone a record amount of times and punched the air in triumph. He was so full of fun, full of life. No wonder she’d felt hollow all those months without him.
And she knew one thing for certain: she didn’t want to feel that empty again.
She wandered over to him and waited for him to throw the last of the stones in his hand.
‘Nick? Why did you come back? To England, I mean.’
He looked at her, a sense of weariness in his eyes.
Don’t make me say it, those eyes said. Don’t make me say it if you’re not prepared to give something back.
‘You know why I came home, Adele.’
He turned and walked off in the direction of the car park.
Home, he’d said. He’d come home. Not to a house. Not to bricks and mortar and fancy handles on the kitchen cabinets, but to her.
Nick might have left, but he’d also come back. A concept she was so unused to, it had taken her a week to cotton on to the reasons behind his return. He wanted her back.
She inhaled sharply. He’d always wanted her back. Only, at the time, all she’d been able to feel was the sting of his departure and she’d responded the only way she knew how—by locking the door after him and pretending it didn’t matter that he’d gone.
And, if she’d let him, he’d have turned up on the doorstep a week or two later, with his dimples and a big bunch of gaudy flowers and they’d have sorted it all out.
She picked up a smooth, flat stone and tossed it in the direction of the loch. It hit the water and gurgled its way to the bottom.
Nick was right; she’d been shutting him out of her life in one way or another the whole time she’d known him. He was asking for more. He deserved more.
She could see Nick far ahead of her, opening the car, and, after he’d swung the door wide, he paused and turned to look at her.
She was going to give him more.
But she’d never been one for ripping the plaster off in one go. She was just going to have to do it in stages, dismantle her barriers bit by bit. And the first thing s
he was going to have to do was to let him know that she wanted him to come home too.
It was almost three-thirty by the time they reached Invergarrig. The main road into the town ran down the side of Loch Garrig and over a crumbling humpbacked bridge. As they went over the top they could see the spires of Invergarrig Castle through the trees. It was like something out of a fairy tale.
The town was nestled in a sheltered bay where the water was dark and flat. A small patch of mist hung over the water.
The town itself was charming. Whitewashed stone houses and shops with identical black doors and windows lined the main street. In fact, all the buildings in the main part of the town followed the same design, including Loch Garrig Hotel, where the party was to be held.
Maggie Hughes had insisted they all stay there for the weekend on the grounds that there just wasn’t room for a crowd of fifteen children and grandchildren in her little three-bed-roomed house.
They parked in the gravel car park out front. Adele couldn’t help feeling a pang of sadness at the battered state of her little car as she grabbed her handbag, eased herself from the passenger seat and followed Nick inside.
They walked past a large lounge on their way to the reception desk. A noisy game of charades was going on. Children were squealing and adults were cheering and booing.
Debbie, Nick’s middle sister, spotted them first and added to the squealing herself before running over to them and enfolding both of them at once into a big, squeezy hug.
The noise from the lounge stopped. At first she heard gasps and then running feet and pretty soon she and Nick were in the middle of a rugby scrum. Being licked to death by a whole pack of puppies couldn’t have been more terrifying—or more wonderful.
They were dragged into the lounge and forced to tell the story of their nightmare journey. Thankfully, Nick left out the early-morning details, although she wouldn’t have put it past him to make a cheeky reference. He and his sisters seemed to tell each other everything.
Nick finished their tale and the conversation moved on to family news and anecdotes. Someone brought Adele a cup of coffee and she sat back in her comfy armchair, the warmth of the log fire tickling her cheek, and let the noise and laughter flow around her.
What a difference from her infrequent audiences with her own parents. There was no awkwardness or long silences. She’d never even heard her father crack a joke.
This family was wonderful and she was privileged to be a very small part of it. The only niggle was that sometimes she felt Nick’s sisters didn’t know how to take her. She wasn’t good at the easy banter and, although she found it easy enough to be physical with Nick—too easy, if this morning had been anything to go by—she always found it a little awkward being touchy feely with other people. The hugs always seemed to be too tight and last a little too long.
But the Hughes family knew how to pull together and love each other when needed. They knew how to support each other and trust each other and share with each other.
Nick had only been four months old when his father had left for good and his mother and sisters had doted on him to compensate for the lack of a father figure. She’d seen photos of him when he was little. He’d had it even then. Charm by the bucketload. And he’d known it too, by all accounts.
His sisters, Charlotte, Debbie and Sarah, seemed to be able to forgive him anything. ‘It’s just Nick,’ they would sigh and laugh when he did something impulsive and daft.
He’s not a little boy any more, Adele had wanted to scream sometimes, but it would do no good. He would always be the darling baby boy, even when he was collecting his pension. And just for confirmation of her theory, there was the eldest, Charlotte, across the room, ruffling his hair after he’d said something cheeky.
Adele took another sip of her coffee and gave a little sigh.
OK, it ruffled her feathers to see them treat him like that but, deep down, she was a little jealous. She’d never had anyone to fuss over her: cheer her on when she was doing well, wipe her tears when she wasn’t.
And then Nick had come along and done all those things for her, even when she’d refused to let him. Hadn’t he brought her champagne whenever something went well at work? He’d listened to her drone on about business plans and staff problems. He’d always been a reassuring shoulder for her.
And yet she hadn’t seen it.
Or at least, she only remembered the negative side. Such as how he’d seemed unfazed and calm in the early days of her consultancy business when she was a nervous wreck and sure it was going to fold. She’d wanted him to wail and beat his breast with her. But he hadn’t. And the small seeds of resentment and disappointment had been sown.
He’d been solid and calming when she’d ranted about the things that had seemed so important at the time. She couldn’t even remember what all the fuss had been about now. What good would it have done if he’d joined her in her bellyaching? Instead of doing what she’d wanted, he’d done what she needed: he’d been her rock.
He’d always been her rock and somehow she’d thought he was quicksand. So much for the woman who always thought she had all the answers.
Nick’s mum worked her way round the room and perched herself on the edge of the armchair after Adele rose to give her a kiss and a quick squeeze.
‘How are you feeling, Maggie?’
‘Fighting fit.’ Adele saw the tiredness in her mother-in-law’s eyes, but hadn’t expected any other answer.
‘Sounds as if you had a bit of an adventure on the way up here,’ Maggie said. ‘In more ways than one, but I’m glad you came, Adele. I know it can’t have been easy for you.’
‘Um.’
Her heart skipped into a faster rhythm. Nick had said he hadn’t told his mother they were having problems. How did she…?
‘I appreciate you taking time off from your business to come all the way up here. And, of course, for sharing Nick so soon after he’s got back from California.’
She was safe?
‘Thanks, Maggie. You know I wouldn’t have missed your party for the world.’
Her mother-in-law nodded and fixed her with an uncannily shrewd look. ‘I know.’
Adele smiled, but she felt it was a thin disguise. Maggie was one of the sharpest women she knew. All of a sudden, it seemed a tad optimistic of Nick to think his mother hadn’t read between the lines and guessed something was up between the two of them.
Then came the question she’d been dreading.
‘Living apart for so long can’t have been easy. How are you and Nick getting on these days?’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NONE of the truthful answers to Maggie’s question would do. The most honest thing to say would have been, I don’t know.
‘Great,’ she finally answered and increased the wattage of her smile to a more convincing level.
Maggie tilted her head and looked at her. ‘Really?’ she said softly.
Adele nodded, her head bobbing, smile fixed.
Her mother-in-law’s concerned expression was chased away by a broad grin. She rubbed Adele’s arm and gave her another kiss on the cheek. ‘I’m so pleased. Good for you.’
Adele might have noticed Maggie’s slightly odd response if she hadn’t been so relieved she was no longer under the spotlight. She breathed out a sigh of relief.
First hurdle over—and probably the hardest. This evening, everyone would be too busy having fun to take a good look at her and Nick. It gave her a bit more time to screw up her courage and do what she knew she had to do to save her marriage.
Nick caught her eye and motioned to the lobby.
This was escape time. They could slide away and settle in their room and hide out until the pre-party drink in the hotel bar at six. Maggie had the whole event organised and timetabled with military precision. Adele was tempted to fall at the woman’s feet and worship.
She excused herself and walked towards him as he held his hand open for hers. It felt so natural, letting her hand slide into hi
s and walking slowly from the room, their arms swaying gently between them.
Maybe things weren’t quite right at this second between her and Nick, but they had been great in the past and maybe they could be great again. Better even.
It was almost a wrench when he broke contact to accept their room key from the receptionist. He handed it to her.
‘You go up and have a shower or something. I’ll go and get the bags.’
Adele did just that, and when she stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing her wet hair with a towel, her case was perched on the end of the bed.
She half expected him to be lying on the bed waiting for her, as he had been the night before, but the covers were unrumpled and Nick was nowhere to be seen.
‘Hand me that XLR lead, will you?’
Nick held out a hand while still crouched behind the decks for the sound system. Dave, the local DJ his mum had hired, placed the required item in his palm. Nick connected the lead, stood up and wiped his hand on the front of his jeans.
‘Thanks, mate,’ Dave said. ‘I thought I wasn’t going to get set up in time. You’ve been a real help.’
‘No problem. It was good to have something to keep me occupied.’
He gave Dave a little salute and wandered out of the moderate-sized function room.
He did his best thinking when he was connecting things, building things. Somehow, that kind of manual task occupied the bit of his brain that always got in the way when he was trying to work things out. And, let’s face it, he had some pretty big plans to work out.
Winning back your wife was a little bit trickier than connecting leads or bolting things together. There were no blue-prints when it came to love. He’d put all the pieces in place, done everything he could, and still he was getting no results.
He’d done his best to be open with Adele, to show he was more of a grown-up than she’d ever given him credit for, but she was still holding back from him.
It drove him crazy that all he could do now was keep doing more of the same. He would have to be there for her, prove himself to her by being consistent. For a man more prone to pulling out all the stops and going for the big finish, it made him restless. He wanted glitter canons and fireworks and he wanted Adele to swoon into his arms like the heroines in the movies.