by Kate Hewitt
Ruth regarded her sadly. “I don’t think Dan came to this decision lightly, Rachel. What you say might have happened, but it also might not have. There needs to be a certain, solid foundation—”
“And I thought we had that!”
“But Dan didn’t think you did. And the fact that he thought that suggests something was missing.”
“So you think he was right to call it off?”
Ruth sighed. “I don’t know if there is a right or wrong in this situation, darling. It simply is. Dan is a good man and you are a lovely woman, and if the two of you don’t marry each other, then I pray you’ll both find someone else, in time.”
In time. Rachel couldn’t imagine dating again, ever, even though she still longed for marriage and family, as she always had. As for Dan… “Yes,” she said rather dutifully. “I’ll pray for that too.” She tried for a wry smile and thought she managed it. “Thanks for the tea. I’d better go unpack.” And figure out where she was going to live once her parents left and Simon moved into the vicarage.
On the way to her bedroom, Rachel stopped by Miriam’s, glancing at her sister, who sat on the edge of her bed, running her fingers through her damp hair, a distant look on her face.
“Everything okay, Miriam?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Miriam gave her a quick smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Although she’d been flat out with wedding stuff since her sister had come back from Australia two weeks ago, Rachel had still managed to notice that something was a little off with Miriam, who was usually sassy and cheerful and full of bouncy energy.
The very fact that Miriam had indicated she might be staying in Thornthwaite for good had given everyone pause, but her sister had refused to say anything more about it, and she had, more or less, been keeping to herself since her return.
Now Rachel braced her shoulder against the doorframe. “Have you decided what you’re going to do, Miriam? I mean, long term? You mentioned you might stay in Thornthwaite…?”
“I don’t know.” Miriam shrugged. “There’s not much for me back in Australia, to be honest. And I’ve run out of money.” She gave an insouciant smile, or tried to, but it wobbled.
“Right…” Rachel frowned. “What do you mean, there’s nothing for you back in Australia?”
“Minimum wage work in a bar. Hardly something to fly across the world for.”
“And friends…?”
Miriam shrugged. “Backpackers who have moved on. I liked my life, but it wasn’t ever going to be permanent, was it?”
“No…” Rachel’s frown deepened as she realised Miriam’s situation was just as precarious as her own, if not more so. “Mum and Dad are leaving in less than a week,” she said, pointing out the glaringly obvious. “You can’t stay here, can you?” And neither could she.
Miriam’s glance slid away. “I suppose not.”
“So have you thought it through? Where are you going to stay, Miriam?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I could bung in with one of my old mates from school, if worse comes to worst.”
“But are any of your old school friends living in their own places around here?” Miriam was only twenty-three, the surprise baby, born five years after Anna and thirteen years younger than Esther. Her friends were surely finishing uni or had moved on.
Miriam just shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Seriously, Miriam—”
“Oh lay off, Rach, okay? You’ve got troubles enough of your own, haven’t you? I’m fine.” And to Rachel’s surprise, her sister rose from the bed and, nudging her out with a determined foot, she closed the door firmly in her face.
Well, that wasn’t like Miriam. She was the most laid-back of them all, the opposite of Esther. Maybe Rachel had been a bit naggy, but it seemed as if something was going on, yet what? Worry cramped her stomach as Rachel retreated to her own room. She wished Miriam had more of a plan…heaven knew, she needed more of a plan. Miriam was right; she had troubles enough of her own, and they weren’t going to go away anytime soon.
The next day, despite her deep reluctance, Rachel did what she knew she had to do. She went to see Dan. She texted him first, preferring that to an actual phone call, and he texted back promptly inviting her to come to his house that evening. All very civilised, she acknowledged rather sourly.
And it was very civilised, she thought as she pulled up in front of his barn conversion on the other side of the village, the air surprisingly balmy for a Cumbrian summer, the sun still shining high above at eight o’clock at night.
Dan greeted her at the door, his dark hair rumpled, his hazel eyes glinting, and Rachel’s heart didn’t roll over in remembrance. It didn’t even so much as twitch, and that made her feel oddly guilty. Surely she should still feel a rush of emotion, of desire? Or was she just still so hurt, so desolate, at the way things had ended, or the fact that they’d ended at all?
“Hi, Dan.”
“Rachel.” His gaze rested on her briefly, taking in the tan. “You had a good ho—holiday?” Had he actually been going to say honeymoon? Rachel stepped across the threshold, sidling past him.
“As good as can be expected, I suppose.” That came out a little more bitter than she meant it to, but she was bitter. She was trying not to be, heaven knew, but it was there all the same, a dark little root burrowing deep into her heart. It would take a lot of strength, a lot of healing, to pluck it out.
“I’m glad. Would you like a drink? I have wine, or if you’d rather something soft…?” He knew she didn’t like beer, and so he didn’t offer it, something that made Rachel feel sad. No matter what Dan thought they had or hadn’t felt for each other, he knew her and she knew him. They’d been going to spend their life together, and she’d been looking forward to it.
“I’ll have a glass of wine if there’s a bottle open, but don’t go to any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.”
Rachel stood in the kitchen doorway while Dan opened a bottle of red. She’d been in this room many times, had eaten dinner at the table in front of the French windows; she had relaxed outside on the little terrace overlooking the fells. Dan had wanted her to move in here after the wedding; he hadn’t seen the need to buy their dream house right away, but Rachel had been adamant…and now they were here, dismantling their dreams. She sighed, the sound heavy.
“So I guess we need to hammer out some details.”
Dan handed her a glass of wine, his eyebrows raised. “About what?”
“Well, the house, for one. And all the wedding presents.” Her mother had been old-fashioned, displaying them on the dining room table—twelve place settings of fine china, linens and crystal vases, a state-of-the-art coffeemaker and several toasters, although they’d only registered for one.
“I suppose we just send the wedding presents back?” Dan suggested uncertainly.
Box up one hundred gifts? Yet what else could they do? The gifts definitely had to go back. Rachel sank into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “I suppose so.” That would fill a lot of her summer holiday, at any rate. “I can do that.”
“I’m happy to help…”
“No, they’re all at the vicarage, anyway.” She didn’t fancy working together on that project, like some honeymoon period in reverse. “What about the house?”
Dan sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that one’s not so straightforward.”
“Except it rather is, isn’t it?” Rachel’s mouth twisted grimly. “We could barely afford it when we were both going to live in it. We certainly can’t afford only one of us to live in it now.”
“But you love that house…”
Rachel stared at him, trying to control the expression on her face. Did he think it had just been about a house for her? It had been so much more than that, a dream house for both of them, the place where they were going to build their lives.
“Do you want to live in it?” Dan asked.
“No,” she said, unable to keep the horror from her
voice. “Of course not.” Living by herself in her family dream home would be just about the most depressing thing, ever. “Do you?”
Dan looked startled. “I haven’t even sold my house yet.”
“Oh, right.” Unlike her, he had a place to live. His life could go on the same. “Have you taken it off the market?” she asked as she took a sip of wine.
“Well… yes.” Dan shifted, looking uncomfortable. “It seemed for the best, considering…”
She nodded, trying to school her face into an understanding expression. Of course he’d taken it off the market. Why wouldn’t he? She shouldn’t feel resentful, she knew that, and yet…
Rachel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was no point being angry with Dan. He already looked miserable; she didn’t need to make it worse for both of them. He’d done what he’d thought was right, even if she still felt like railing against it.
“So we need to put the house—the other house—on the market.” She tried to speak practically but her voice wobbled and she felt her face start to crumple. She looked away, blinking rapidly, willing herself not to break down in front of Dan.
“Oh, Rachel.” He put his wine glass on the table before coming over and wrapping his arms around her. Rachel breathed in the comforting scent of him—aftershave and animal, from his work as a vet—and then pushed him away.
“We shouldn’t.”
“We’re still friends, aren’t we? We can be friends at least, given a little time?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Sometimes I think we worked better as friends than fiancés,” Dan said with an attempt at a wry smile.
Rachel prickled. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just…sometimes you didn’t seem to really like me, Rachel. That way.” To her shock Dan was blushing, and she realised she was, as well.
“You mean…”
“Physically. You know, I get that attraction can grow between people when they love each other.” Dan looked away, his cheeks now nearly scarlet. “But sometimes I felt as if you were just…tolerating things. When I kissed you.”
Tolerating…? Rachel didn’t know where to look. She’d never even considered that aspect of their relationship…which, in its own way, was rather telling, but still. It had been fine. It had all been fine. Hadn’t it?
“What did you want from me?” she asked. “I loved you, Dan—”
“I think you loved the idea of me,” Dan said quietly. “But did you love me? I’m not sure about that.”
She shook her head, hurt. “Just because I wasn’t crawling all over you?”
“I’m not saying that—”
“Aren’t you?”
“It’s just…sometimes it felt as if you were avoiding…me.” He raked a hand through his hair as he shook his head. “I could tell, Rachel. That’s all. Don’t you know what I’m saying?”
She bit her lip as she looked away. All right, yes, maybe. She hadn’t felt that pulse-pounding tingle he’d mentioned before, the kind she’d only read about in romance novels or seen in chick flicks, but did it really matter? Was that so important? She thought they’d had something better, something stronger.
“Yes, I know what you’re saying,” she said at last. “But I’m not sure how important it was. I still wanted to spend my life with you.”
“But don’t you think that would have changed, in time? When you realised you didn’t feel that way about me?”
“We’ll never know now, will we?” Rachel couldn’t keep from saying bitterly. “Although you seem to have worked it all out for yourself.”
“I just didn’t want to take that risk.”
“And I did.”
“Are you sure about that?” His words were quiet, lethal. Rachel turned to look at him, her heart somersaulting in her chest.
“Pardon…?”
“When I told you the wedding was off…for a second…before the shock set in…you looked relieved, Rachel. I saw it. I felt it.”
She stared at him, slack-jawed, unable to form a reply. He knew her so well, and yet sometimes it felt as if he didn’t know her at all.
“Do you deny it?”
“No,” she admitted painfully. “But…but…” To her shame, she found she couldn’t say anything at all.
“I’m sorry, Rachel. I’m sorry it ended the way it did, as late as it did. But I still think it was the right decision, and I hope you come to realise that, as well.”
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. How could she be angry with Dan now? How could she be bitter? “I’m sorry too,” she whispered, and she meant it with every fibre of her being.
Dan sighed heavily and nodded. “As for the house, I can call the estate agent and list it this week.”
“Thank you.” She released a shuddery breath. “The sooner the better, because I don’t think I can afford to rent somewhere until that place is sold.”
A look of concern crossed Dan’s face. “Where are you going to live?”
“At the vicarage for the next week. After that, I’m not sure. Maybe in Will and Esther’s spare room,” she added with a wry grimace. She could share with Miriam, who was looking to be as potentially homeless as she was.
“You can always stay here, Rachel—” Dan began, and Rachel shook her head.
“No.” Her response was immediate and definite. “Thank you very kindly for the offer, but no. That’s not a good idea.”
“No, it probably isn’t.” He smiled sadly. “Sorry, I guess I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s just…it will take a little time, Dan.” She tried to smile. “To get things back to being friends. But I think we will get there one day. One day soon, even.”
“Good.”
They stared at each other, a little bit at a loss, sad and silent. The bitterness Rachel had been feeling was starting to wither. She’d loved this man. She couldn’t start hating him just because he’d hurt her. She didn’t want to, and yet she didn’t know what to feel.
Finally Rachel stood up. “I should go.”
“All right.” Dan took a step towards her, one hand outstretched. “You’re…you’re okay, though, Rachel? I mean…” He shrugged helplessly. “I really am sorry.”
“I know you are, and I am, too. But I am okay,” she said as firmly as she could. “At least, I will be.” She tried to smile. “I suppose you’ll want this back?” she forced herself to ask, gesturing to the modest diamond on her ring finger. They’d picked it out together.
“No, you keep it,” Dan said hurriedly.
“I don’t know what the etiquette is, but I think you should have it.” With effort Rachel slipped it off and handed it to Dan. “You take it, Dan. It’s only right.”
Reluctantly he pocketed the ring. “I never meant it to happen this way, you know. I really didn’t.”
“I know.” And she hadn’t, either. “I guess I’ll see you around?” she asked instead, although belatedly she realised she’d made it sound like an invitation to get together, and she wasn’t ready for that yet.
“Yes, definitely.” Dan nodded quickly. “Anytime you want to talk…”
“Thanks.” She wasn’t ready for that either, though. With a nod of farewell Rachel headed towards the door. She knew there had to be other things they needed to talk about, but she couldn’t think about them now. This had been hard enough.
Outside the sun was sinking behind the fells, casting long, cold shadows across the rolling sheep pasture. Even though it was late July, right now it felt like November, which was on par with her mood. She didn’t look back at Dan’s low, snug house as she pulled onto the narrow lane and headed back towards the vicarage.
Everything was quiet as she came into the house, and even quieter as she headed back to the kitchen. Anna and Simon were sitting around the table with Ruth and Roger, and they all fell ominously silent as Rachel rounded the corner. She clocked their guilty expressions with a ripple of dread.
“What is it?”
Anna glanced at Simon, and then at her parents. No one spoke. What on earth was going on? Anna had only arrived in Thornthwaite that afternoon. Surely something hadn’t happened already?
“Hello…?” Rachel tried to sound light and teasing. “Why are you all looking so guilty?”
“Not about you,” Anna said quickly.
Uh-oh. “Then why have you all gone so quiet?”
“It’s just…” She gave another helpless glance at Ruth and Roger, who both smiled at her encouragingly. “The truth is, Rachel…Simon and I are engaged.”
Chapter Five
THE THING WAS, Rachel didn’t mind. While her parents, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend—now fiancé—were all looking at her in fearful concern, as if she might break down sobbing, Rachel knew she wouldn’t. She really was happy for Simon and Anna. Of course she was.
Yet somehow she couldn’t convey that in her voice.
“Oh wow, congratulations!” Her voice came out high and brittle. “That’s so exciting, both of you. Really.” Anna and Simon both looked miserably unconvinced, and her parents were staring at her in open pity. Rachel couldn’t stand it.
“Seriously,” she continued, now clearly over-egging the pudding to convince them. “I’m so thrilled for you. When did it happen? And how? I’d love to know all the details.” To prove her point, she leaned against the counter—there were no more chairs at Simon’s dinky little table—and folded her arms, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“Are you sure…” Anna began, looking around everyone at the table as if for permission to go ahead. They were treating her like some terminal patient who didn’t know her diagnosis.
“Tell me,” she urged, her voice coming out almost aggressively despite her best attempts to monitor it. Honestly, why couldn’t she act normally? She was happy for them. She knew she was. “Please, Anna. I really want to know.”
“Well…Simon proposed to me on top of Scafell Pike, after we’d been hiking. He hid the ring in a Kendal Mint Cake.”