“Nearly six. You’ve been asleep for ages.”
“Six?” Kate swung round. “How the hell did it get that late? I must get ready.”
“Ready for what?” Helen’s voice floated back from the kitchen. “Surely you’re not going out tonight, are you?”
“Yes.” Kate was bounding up the stairs, two at a time. “No time to talk now. Got to leave in forty-five minutes.”
She ran into her bedroom and stood looking round in a panic. In an hour she was meeting Sam. What on earth should she wear, and more importantly, why on earth had she agreed to go out with him again? She moved rapidly around the room, picking up clothes, then discarding them. Her mind was still befuddled from the night before, and she had no clear idea what she was even doing. In desperation she flung herself down on the bed and started to text Jenny. As her hand hovered over the screen, about to ask for advice on what to wear, she remembered she had actually not told Jen she was going out with Sam again. She could hardly ask for help unless she told her, and she really doubted that was a good idea. She dropped her phone down beside her and buried her face in her pillow. What on earth was she doing? In three weeks’ time, she would actually be married. Sam now knew that, and yet she was still going out on a date with him. Not that it was really a date, she told herself. It was still just a catch-up. He hadn’t told her everything about his travels yet. That’s all it was, just a catch-up of old friends. Nothing more.
Slowly she dragged herself off the bed, pulled off her T-shirt and sweat pants, and got in the shower. She really needed something to wake her up. She pulled on a shower cap, turned the water on full power, and stood underneath, letting it run all over her. Should she wear jeans? Or maybe a skirt would be better. She had that really nice blue one she got in the charity shop. She looked nice in that. But if she wore a skirt, should she wear heels? And if she wore heels, that might make walking back across the field difficult. And she really wanted to do that again.
With a sigh she turned off the shower and started to dry herself. Jeans were probably the best option. Then she could wear flats, which would be easy to walk in, and one of her skimpy strappy tops. The green one. She smiled to herself and stepped out onto the bath mat. Yeah, that would all look very nice. She cleaned her teeth, rinsed her mouth with mouthwash twice, and applied a large quantity of deodorant. She wanted no lingering odours from the previous night’s party to remain.
As she wriggled into her jeans and pulled her top over her head, she realised she hadn’t actually eaten all day and was, in fact, ravenously hungry. She hoped they were going to the same place as they had on Thursday. That food had been very nice. She sat down in front of the mirror and sighed when she saw her hair. It quite honestly looked like she’d been caught in a tornado. She tugged her brush through it while she waited for the straighteners to heat up, and peered at her face.
She had black bags under her eyes, and her cheeks looked sunken and sallow. Well, that needed some work. She put down the hairbrush, applied a lot of foundation, and eventually achieved a look that she felt wouldn’t actually scare Sam away. She dealt with her hair, straightening her fringe and fastening the rest up messily in a large clip. She pulled some tendrils out to hang down on either side of her face and surveyed the final result. She’d do.
Glancing at her phone, she saw it was nearly six forty-five, so she threw a breath freshener into her mouth, gathered up her bag, phone, and an oversized checked shirt to throw on over the top if it got cold, and made her way downstairs.
“I’m off now, Mum,” she called, walking swiftly towards the front door. “Don’t wait up. I’ve got my key.”
“Hang on there, young lady.” Helen appeared in the doorway. “Have you had anything to eat? You can’t go out drinking on an empty stomach. I’m not sure you should be going out tonight anyway. You seem very tired.”
“Mum, stop fussing.” Kate jiggled the door handle in annoyance. “I’m not going out drinking, as you put it. I’m going out for a meal, and I’m fine. I’m twenty-six. Why on earth would I be tired? I can manage more than one night out in a row, you know.”
“Well, this will be three in a row,” Helen pointed out. “Just being a mother. Who are you out with tonight? Not Jenny, I assume. You said she had a date.”
“Yeah, she has. No, just one of the girls who couldn’t come last night. Sarah—you remember her? She’s been away and only just got back. Haven’t seen her for ages.”
“Oh, give her my love.” Helen smiled. “I liked Sarah. I often see her mother in Tesco. Have a lovely time.”
Her heart sinking as she realised she had probably picked the wrong friend to use as her cover, Kate started to open the front door.
“Oh, and you’ll never guess who else is back.” Helen’s voice halted her in her tracks. “Sam Somerville. You remember Sam, from the pub? You liked him when you were at school, didn’t you?”
Kate nodded, not trusting herself to turn around. “Yeah, I know. He was serving in the pub last night.”
“Nice boy.” Helen sighed. “That was a bad business with that girl—what was her name—when you’d just left school?”
“Cerys. Her name was Cerys.” Kate pulled the door open. “Must go now, Mum, or I’ll be late. Bye.” She escaped out into the still warm evening and hurried down the path as fast as she could. Oh, why had she said she was meeting Sarah? She had forgotten that their mothers were friends. And how on earth did her mother know about Sam being back? Things were getting even more complicated.
It was very nearly seven when she arrived at the park gates, but Sam wasn’t anywhere in sight. Kate leaned against the railings and breathed deeply. Why did everyone keep mentioning Cerys? That had been eight years ago. It had been the reason for Sam’s departure, but surely enough time had passed now. She glanced down the road just in time to see his Land Rover round the corner. He drew up next to her and wound down the window.
“Hop in.”
She opened the door and climbed in, remembering this time how to work the seatbelt. Sam took off almost before she had finished fastening it, and they drove in silence for a few minutes. Eventually Sam spoke, his eyes never leaving the road.
“Nice time last night?”
“Yes, thank you.” Kate looked down at her hands. which were clasped tightly in her lap. “Bit tired today.”
“And hung over, I’m sure.” He flicked the indicator and turned off the main road. “Evil things, shots.”
“I’m fine. Just a bit hungry.”
“We’ll be eating, don’t worry.”
“Are we going to the same pub as Thursday?”
Sam shook his head. “No, not tonight. But don’t worry. There’ll be food.” He indicated again, and they turned down an extremely narrow lane bordered with high hedges. “I think you’ll like it.”
Kate sat back and stared out the window. She hadn’t been paying attention and had absolutely no idea where they were. They had been travelling for about twenty minutes, but she didn’t recognise any of the scenery.
“Where are we?” She turned to Sam, unable to help a little flutter in her stomach as she watched how his hair flopped over his forehead as he manoeuvred a tight bend. “Is there a pub down here?”
“Wait and see.”
Kate sat back again and attempted to peer through the dense undergrowth to either side of them. They were in a very wooded area and were travelling rapidly down a very steep hill. Sam didn’t seem to think it necessary to brake for bends, and Kate found herself clinging onto the seat with one hand and the door with the other.
Eventually they slowed and turned right down a narrow path that opened out into a wide grassy area dotted with trees and bisected by a wide stream. The early evening sun glistened off the slow-moving water, and the long shadows from the trees cast beautiful patterns on the grass.
Sam parked the Land Rover under a large tree and turned off the engine. “Do you like it?” He didn’t look at her.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Good. I thought you would. Come on, help me get the stuff out.” He jumped down onto the grass and walked round to open the back of the vehicle. Kate followed, her curiosity fully aroused. Sam held out a folded tartan blanket. “Here, take this, and this.” He handed her a zipped-up cool bag. “Find somewhere nice to sit.”
She stared at him, and her face broke into a wide grin. “We’re having a picnic. That’s brilliant!”
“Thought it might be more fun than just another trip to a pub. Now I’m back living in one, it gets a bit boring. How about just over there?” He pointed to a flat area that jutted out into the stream. “That looks a nice spot.”
Kate carried the rug and the bag over and laid them on the ground. The heat from the sun was still very strong, and the glistening water, although only about six inches deep, looked very inviting. She kicked off her shoes and rolled the bottoms of her jeans up as far as she could get them.
“Come for a paddle,” she called to Sam as she stepped gingerly into the water. Despite the hot day, it was icy, and she gasped as it gently licked around her ankles. “Wow, cold!”
Sam placed a large basket on the grass and spread out the rug Kate had carried. He glanced over at her and laughed. “You have fun. I’ll just sort the food out.”
Kate picked her way carefully along the little stream, keeping one eye on Sam. She could hardly believe he had done this for her. He had organised what looked like a very sumptuous picnic in the most glorious place imaginable.
It was really very romantic. Richard had never done anything like that. Richard’s idea of romance was to buy her something expensive. Very nice, of course, but he didn’t really need to put a lot of thought into it. Sam had gone to a lot of trouble for this. For her. And he knew she was getting married.
Feeling suddenly very guilty, Kate turned and waded back to their makeshift camp, where she could see Sam arranging something on the rug. As she stepped out of the stream and back onto the grass, he looked up and smiled at her.
“Nice paddle? I never thought to bring a towel. You’ll just have to dry in the sun. Come and sit down.”
Kate joined him on the rug and sat with her damp legs stretched out in front of her. Sam handed her a plastic cup of something fizzy and sat down next to her.
“Not alcohol, I’m afraid. Thought you could probably do with a night off after last night, and I’m driving, so just fizzy grape juice.” He raised his cup and looked thoughtfully at her. “What shall we drink to? Old friends? Your wedding? What do you think?”
“Old friends,” Kate said at once, feeling her face begin to get hot. She took a sip and turned her head away. “Not my wedding. That’s not for now.”
Sam fell silent, and Kate sneaked a glance at him. He looked almost unbearably good-looking, and she caught just a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes as he stared out across the stream to the woods on the other side.
He turned to face her, and it was gone.
“Old friends, then. But I think we may need to discuss your impending nuptials at some point. Don’t you?”
“Why? You know about them now. What’s to discuss?” Kate pulled her knees up to her chin and hugged them tightly.
“Well…” Sam watched her, his head on one side. “Maybe the reason why you failed to tell me the Hen party you were going to was your own, even though we spent the whole of the previous evening together. And arranged another date. I can’t help feeling there may be something to discuss there.”
“Is this a date, then?” Kate rested her chin on her knees and watched him out of the corner of her eye.
“Don’t change the subject.” Sam lay down on his back and closed his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?”
“I meant to.” Kate stared out across the stream as she tried to find the right words. “I really meant to. But it was so lovely being with you. So lovely hearing about your travels. So much more exciting than…” She tailed off as she realised she had said too much.
“Than what?” Sam opened one eye and looked up at her. “Than your fiancé? What’s his name anyway?”
“No, I didn’t mean that…” Kate felt herself going red again. “It’s Richard. Richard Cresswell.”
“Ah. Right. And what does Richard Cresswell do, then, that’s so boring?”
“I never said that,” Kate protested mildly, hugging her knees even tighter.
“You didn’t need to. I’ve known you for a long time, Katy. I know what you’re thinking.” Sam propped himself up on his elbows. “Although I must say I hadn’t picked up on the whole getting-married thing. You hid that extremely well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. You’re under no obligation to tell me anything. Just seems a little odd that you wouldn’t mention it when I asked you out again.”
“Well…” Kate kept her face turned away. “Well, I didn’t really know if it was a date. I thought we might just be catching up as old friends. That’s all we were in school, after all.”
Sam sat up and topped up their glasses. “Were we? Is that all it was? I had a feeling it might have been something more.”
“So why did you go travelling without me?” The words were out before Kate could stop them, and she bit down hard on her lip to prevent herself from saying any more.
“You know why.” Sam spoke quietly. “Everything changed.”
“I’m sorry.” Kate moved slightly closer and tentatively put her hand on his arm. “I shouldn’t have said that. I know why.”
“Do you want something to eat?” Sam moved away and started rummaging in the basket. “We have pizza, and quiche, and lots of nice cheese. Here, have some pizza. I know you love it.”
Kate accepted the paper plate he held out to her, watching him miserably, well aware she had crossed a line. She was rather afraid she had spoilt everything. He wouldn’t want to see her again. She took a bite out of the still-warm pizza and curled her legs up under her. But then, she had rather spoilt everything just by being engaged. Of course he wouldn’t want to see her again. He had only gone through with tonight to find out more about her fiancé. Her eyes followed Sam as he piled his plate high with some of everything, then settled down cross-legged on the rug, a discreet distance between them. Kate took another bite of the delicious pizza. But why the picnic? If she had spoilt everything by being engaged, and he had only taken her out to find out why she hadn’t told him, then why the picnic? That seemed to have been well planned and designed to please her. It really did seem like a romantic gesture. Did he realise she was having second thoughts about Richard? He said he knew what she was thinking. Kate stuffed the last of the pizza into her mouth and sat very still. Was she having second thoughts about Richard? What had made her suddenly think that? True, she had spent the week wondering if he was too boring, and she had got very annoyed when he had pooh-poohed her idea of becoming an explorer—but she still loved him. Didn’t she?
She glanced sideways at Sam. His thick dark hair was flopping over his forehead again, and the sinking sun was glinting off his lean tanned arms. She gave a little shiver. He was so different from Richard. Richard would never sit on a rug by a stream, eating with his fingers. He wouldn’t go paddling in icy water on a whim. Richard liked things to be well ordered and organised. And very boring. Kate sighed. He really was very boring. Why had she not noticed before? She had been with him for three years. Maybe she was boring, too, and that was why she hadn’t seen it.
“D’you like the pizza?” Sam was watching her, his eyes narrowed against the evening sun.
“It’s lovely, thanks. Did you bring it from the pub?”
“Yes, but I made it.” He held out another piece to her. “I’m pretty pleased with it, actually.”
“You made it?” Kate accepted the second slice and took a bite. “It’s really nice. When did you learn to cook?”
Sam shook his hair back and grinned at her. “I’ve been away eight years, Katy, travelling the world. I’m bound to ha
ve picked up a few new skills.” He topped up her glass again. “I learnt to make pizza in a tiny Italian village in the mountains, taught by a very old man who couldn’t speak any English.”
“That sounds amazing. You’re so lucky. And all I’ve done is get a degree and get stuck in a job I don’t like and didn’t really want.”
“And get engaged to a boring man you seem to be ashamed of.”
“Ashamed of?” Kate frowned and wiped tomato sauce off her mouth. “What d’you mean?”
“Well, most girls can’t wait to tell their friends about their fiancés. If I hadn’t found out by accident, I doubt you would have told me yet. I can only assume you are either ashamed of him or having second thoughts.”
“It’s not like that.” Kate wriggled uncomfortably and looked away from him. “I’m…I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all. Just wedding nerves. I love Richard.”
Sam watched her for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, if you say so. But just make sure you really do, before you commit yourself to him forever. That’s a long time.”
Kate pulled her knees up to her chin again and hugged them tightly. “And eight years away is a long time,” she muttered, attempting to change the subject. “We were going to go away for three months. Instead you go on your own and stay away for eight years.” She looked sideways at him. “I understand why you left, but why did you stay away so long?”
“You don’t understand why I left.” Sam got up onto his knees and began to pack away the food. “You don’t know the whole story. Now come on, the sun’s gone behind the trees now, and it’s getting cooler. I think we should get back.”
Kate’s shoulders sagged. “Already? And what d’you mean I don’t understand why you left? Of course I do. I was there, remember? I know what happened that night, and I know how you felt afterwards. Of course I understand why you went—and without me—but why for so long?”
“Not now, Katy. I should get you back.”
Reluctantly Kate helped him pack up the picnic, well aware that she had probably spoiled the whole evening. Sam could barely look at her, and they packed the rest of the things up in silence, then loaded them into the back of the Land Rover. As she climbed into the passenger seat, Kate glanced over at him.
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