The Second Love of My Life

by Victoria Walters

  Graham shifts in his seat. ‘We are willing to hear what you have to say.’

  I smile at him gratefully.

  Robert clears his throat again. ‘I wanted to apologise, even though the word “sorry” feels too small to use. I didn’t mean to cause anyone any pain by coming here. I know now that I should have been honest with you all about who I was, and why I really came here, but I really did have the best intentions, however misguided they turned out to be.’ He sucks in a breath. ‘I wish I could go back and make different choices. I should have stood up to my father and persuaded my brother to tell the truth. I can’t imagine what you all had to go through with the case being thrown out. Your son deserved justice.’

  ‘Rose tells us you’re not in touch with your brother?’ Gloria asks after a short silence.

  ‘No. When he left rehab, he had a friend collect him and we haven’t heard from him since. The facility said he was doing well. I understand why he didn’t come back to us. My father is a formidable man. I’m not making excuses, though, I should have been stronger. Rose – she opened my eyes to how I let him dictate my life. I’m trying to change that now. But I realise that it’s far too little, too late.’

  ‘I think you should have been honest, especially with Rose, about your connection to your brother, but I think you’re blaming yourself for an awful lot,’ Graham says. Gloria shoots him a questioning look. ‘I don’t know if you’re aware that Gloria and I belong to the church here,’ Graham continues. ‘We consider ourselves Christians and we have faith, but last year tested us like no other time in our lives. The vicar here talked to us a lot about forgiveness, but how do you forgive someone who is responsible for taking your son away?’

  Robert looks at him and nods. ‘I don’t know that I have the kind of faith that you do. I find it hard to even have faith in people, to be honest. I’m not sure I can forgive Jeremy, and he’s my own brother. And I don’t know if I deserve forgiveness for lying to you all.’

  ‘Everyone deserves it if they ask for it. You’re trying to make things better, and I commend you for that,’ Graham tells him kindly. ‘As I said, I don’t think I will ever be fully able to forgive your brother for taking our son away from us. Lucas lit up our lives.’ His voice catches and I feel my own breath catch too. ‘But I am glad to know that both your brother and you are trying to be better men than perhaps you have been taught to be. I remember your father in court – he was indeed a formidable man, and I can . . . understand.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Robert says simply. His eyes move to Gloria. As do mine.

  ‘Part of the reason we wanted justice for Lucas was to make sure that your brother didn’t get into a car in that state again. We couldn’t bear it if anyone else had to suffer as we have.’ Gloria wipes a tear that has rolled down her cheek. I make to get up to comfort her but she shakes her head to say it’s okay. ‘It seems as though he’s trying to make different choices for himself, and I hope he has learned from what happened. I can see that you have. I can’t hold you responsible for what your brother, and your father, did. As difficult as it is to have a connection to the man who took away my wonderful Lucas, I know that it wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t take all their blame on to yourself.’

  ‘I just wish I could have done more.’

  Gloria sighs. ‘I think everyone wishes that. I wish I could have stopped Lucas getting into his car that night. I wish I could have warned him . . . but we could never have known what was about to happen. I don’t think it’s healthy to dwell on regrets. You can only change the future.’

  I let her words sink in. A tear of my own escapes. I feel as if so much of the past few months have been about learning to look forward instead of back. I glance at Robert, whose head is bent low. He nods in agreement.

  Graham takes hold of his wife’s hand. ‘What is it that you wanted from us today, Robert?’

  He thinks for a moment before lifting his head up again. ‘I think I wanted your blessing to stay here. I don’t want to cause any more pain.’

  Gloria looks at me. ‘I think that’s up to Rose to decide. I understand why you want to spend Christmas here. I would never wish for someone to be alone at this time of year.’

  Robert looks at me. It feels as if his eyes pierce through my skin, stripping it layer by layer until my soul is laid bare.

  ‘I don’t want you to be alone,’ I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I don’t add my own wish not to be alone. I know I’m never really alone in Talting, but I wonder if I would feel lonely without Robert being here. I think I might. I don’t understand how I can think about spending more time with him after everything, but I see next to me a man who wants me to be happy. This led him to lie to me, but I know how much he regrets that. I see a man who wants to live his own life and be who he wants to be now, and I admire him for it.

  He has made mistakes. But who hasn’t? The point is to try to do better. I can’t fault him for what he’s trying to do. Coming here to face Gloria and Graham took so much courage. He is brave. And I can’t deny the love in his eyes when he looks at me. So much of what happened was because of how he felt about me. And I wonder how I would have acted had I been in his shoes. There is something between us. It fizzes and bubbles in the air around us.

  It is both thrilling and terrifying.

  I can’t define or explain it. But I feel it. And I don’t want to regret letting him go. More than that, I want him to stay. I want to know what this could be.

  After Robert leaves, I hug Gloria and Graham in turn. ‘I wish I was as brave as you,’ I tell them.

  ‘You are braver than you know,’ Gloria says. ‘Loving someone is the bravest thing you can do. I know that you will love again.’ She searches my eyes with hers. I know she’s wondering if I am already in love.

  I am wondering the same thing myself.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The street that winds along the seafront is draped with fairy lights, and small Christmas trees are attached to the walls above all the shops. Christmas in Talting is always celebrated in this way but the main event of the season is the tree-lighting ceremony held at the Talting Inn. It happens on the weekend two weeks before Christmas every year and we all turn out for carols and mulled wine. The tree stands in the middle of the driveway and is massive. It takes three people on large ladders to decorate it with tinsel and lights and a star is always perched on the top. I think that star is older than me.

  The temperature has cooled further but there’s no sign of snow, just a chilly breeze and a layer of frost on the ground in the mornings. I bake a batch of Christmas cookies to take along tonight and decorate them with white icing and silver balls. It’s something my mum and I used to do every Christmas and I carried the tradition on after she died. I guess my love of baking came from her. She used to sometimes talk about opening up a cupcake shop in town but never ended up leaving her teaching job. I guess sometimes dreams are just kept as dreams. I’m sorry she never got to have hers come true. It makes me more determined to continue to challenge myself with my art. I feel as if losing her and Lucas has made it important for me to try to make my dreams come true. Not just for me, but for them too. I want to live life three times as fearlessly.

  Heather called me to see if I was working on something new. She said I should build on the momentum from the exhibition as soon as possible and think about new paintings but also prints that I could sell on my own website. I’ve decided to tackle it all in the New Year. I want to wait until I have something to say again. I don’t want my art to ever become complacent again. I don’t ever want to be complacent again.

  Taylor comes over to sniff the box that holds the cakes. He really has a sweet tooth. ‘Not for you,’ I tell him, smiling at how I’ve got into the habit of chatting to him. Hopefully it’s not considered a sign of going crazy.

  I check the time and go upstairs to get changed.
It will be freezing out there tonight so I pull on jeans, a thick red jumper, my parka, a red woolly hat and matching scarf and gloves. I add black knee-high boots and a thick layer of lip balm to ward off the wind.

  The breeze whips around my face instantly as I step out of the cottage and the sharp chill compared to the warmth inside takes my breath away. I decorated the cottage last week and I somehow feel my old festive spirit returning this year. I’ve always loved this time. To match the fairy lights on the tree outside, I looped a set over the door, and in the lounge the artificial tree I’ve had since I was little stands proudly decorated in red and gold with as much sparkle as I could fit on it. In my bedroom, I have a small tree on the windowsill, which you can see from the road. Taylor had a ball watching me decorate, running off with baubles and getting tangled in the lights, and I laughed all day with him. It feels so good to laugh. I’m glad I made the effort. The cottage is bright and welcoming and I love coming home now.

  As I walk towards town, coloured lights light up my path. Everyone has got into the spirit and decorated their house. It all feels magical as I stroll towards the Inn. A huge, lit-up inflatable Santa on the roof of the Gilberts’ house makes me giggle. I can just hear Mrs Morris tutting about it lowering the tone of the place.

  As I approach the Inn, I can see a crowd of people already gathering around the unlit tree outside the entrance. The Inn has lights draped all over the wide frontage and warmth seems to flow from it out to us. My eyes graze over everybody here and I find Robert instantly. He’s moved into the Inn and, like all the guests, is out here tonight with most of the town. He’s standing near the table chatting to a couple I don’t recognise, so guess they’re guests at the Inn too. He’s wearing a long dark wool coat and the breeze ruffles his dark hair. He looks over, maybe sensing my gaze, and gives me a small wave before turning back to the couple. I wonder what it is about just seeing him that makes me smile instantly.

  ‘Rose,’ Emma calls to me and I go over to where she and John are standing chatting to Mick and his wife Joan. I give Joan my cookies and she takes them over to the table, distributing cups of steaming mulled wine.

  ‘It’s time,’ Mick says, walking towards the tree, ready for the annual lighting ceremony. Emma links arms with me and we follow with John. I take a cup of mulled wine and everyone forms a circle around the tree. Robert stands opposite me and I try to focus on what Mick is saying and not on him watching me. I’m glad to see that I make him smile too.

  ‘Welcome, everyone. As always, thank you for coming to mark the start of the festive season with us,’ Mick says loudly so everyone can hear him. ‘I just wanted to say we wish you a very merry Christmas and a happy New Year. So without further ado . . .’ He lifts his hand up dramatically and starts the countdown. ‘Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.’ He pushes the button and the tree lights up in sparkling gold. We ooh and ahhh on cue and there’s a round of applause as we gaze up at the bright lights.

  The Inn’s chef Dean starts strumming on his guitar and song sheets are hastily passed around so that we can all join in with Slade. I see Robert look at the lyrics in surprise and then glance around, a grin forming on his face at the people of Talting singing the hilarious Christmas song, especially the elder residents, who really get into it as if they’re singing hymns at church. It is pretty funny and to a newcomer this town must often seem quite weird, but I love it. No boring carols here – just lots of fun. I watch Robert join in and wonder how Christmas in Talting will compare to the ones he used to have with his family. I can’t help hoping he loves it here at this time of year as much as I do.

  ‘He can’t stop looking at you,’ Emma hisses into my ear, glancing across at Robert.

  ‘You’re crazy,’ I hiss back but I look at him again and he meets my eyes, smiling as he sings. I can’t deny there is electricity crackling in the air between us. I hide my grin by looking down at the lyrics as Emma snorts beside me.

  Then the festive atmosphere is shattered by a loud groan.

  ‘Mick, are you okay?’ A loud cry sounds out, lifting above our singing.

  I look over to Mick, whose face has turned red and who is wincing in pain. I stop singing instantly and around me everyone does the same as Joan rushes over to her husband. We look on in horror as his knees buckle and he hits the floor. Everyone rushes around him then as he cries out in pain.

  ‘Call an ambulance,’ Joan cries, trying to hold on to him.

  ‘It’s done,’ Robert says, suddenly standing beside me and putting his phone in his pocket. ‘Can you lie him down? Everyone step back and give him some air.’

  ‘It’s a heart attack,’ I hear John say quietly to Robert, who nods.

  The sudden hush that has come over the group feels eerie after the festivities just minutes ago. We all wait in anxious silence, Joan’s sobs and Mick’s groans the only noises until the sound of sirens finally breaks through.

  ‘The guests,’ Joan says suddenly, looking around at everyone in panic.

  Robert lays a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’ll look after everything here, don’t worry.’

  ‘I’ll help,’ I add, keen to do something. She gives us a grateful nod but doesn’t take her eyes off her husband.

  The ambulance pulls into the Inn and we all move back to let them through. I look at Joan’s stricken face and know exactly how she feels. Mick is put on a stretcher and Joan scrambles up after him inside the ambulance, which disappears in a blaze of blue lights.

  ‘Their children,’ Mrs Morris cries out then.

  ‘I have their numbers,’ John says, whipping out his phone.

  We all look at each other in shock. The wind picks up and I’m suddenly cold to the bone.

  ‘We should all go inside,’ I say, the only thing I can think of to say right now.

  ‘I’ll make hot drinks,’ Dean replies with a nod, ushering the Inn staff in ahead of us.

  ‘Right, come on, everyone indoors,’ Robert calls out with authority. We all troop in after him, passing the glowing Christmas tree.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The next hour passes by in a blur. Robert takes charge, giving people things to do; Dean and the kitchen staff hand out hot chocolate and brandy; and I help John and Emma to build up the open fire in the living room where everyone congregates. The Inn always has a cosy feel with its beams criss-crossing the ceiling, dark wood furniture and comfy sofas with piles of cushions, but it’s hard to feel warm as we stand around anxiously waiting for news.

  No one wants to go home without finding out what’s going on and finally we get a call from a nurse saying Mick is stable now. Robert hangs up the Inn phone and calls out the news to everyone. ‘Joan is staying with him tonight but he’s going to be okay. It was a relatively small heart attack so they expect him to make a full recovery, but he needs a lot of rest.’

  Everyone claps in relief that he’s going to be okay. Mick is seventy and was born in Talting and seemed indestructible, so this has shocked us all.

  ‘If anyone wants any more food or drink, let us know,’ Robert adds.

  ‘I guess we better head home,’ Emma says to me.

  ‘I’ll stay in case Robert needs any help.’

  She nods. ‘Call me in the morning?’

  ‘I will.’ I give her and John a hug. They walk out with Mrs Morris and a few others, and the room feels emptier. A couple of the guests go up to bed.

  ‘Is there anything I can do?’ I ask Robert.

  ‘Some of the staff are heading home. I’m going to the kitchen to make some bacon sandwiches for the guests who want them, if you wouldn’t mind helping me?’

  ‘Of course.’ I follow him through into the kitchen and we set up a conveyor belt where I butter the bread and he fries the bacon. It’s weird how you can still be hungry after a shock, bu
t my stomach rumbles anyway and Robert hands me a sandwich and takes the rest out on a tray. I lean against the counter to eat, relief washing over me that Mick’s going to be okay.

  ‘It’s just the guests left now,’ Robert says, coming back in with an empty tray. ‘And I sent them off to bed.’ He tells Dean and the remaining staff to go home too. ‘Shall I drive you home?’ he asks, grabbing a sandwich for himself. ‘Or there’s a spare room if you want to stay?’

  ‘Maybe I should, in case Joan needs any help in the morning. You were great tonight; you knew exactly what to do.’

  ‘Well, my uncle had a heart attack last year at work. I stayed with him. My dad just kept on working.’ He makes a face and puts his half-eaten sandwich down. ‘Mick’s a good guy, I hope he’ll be okay. Joan looked devastated.’

  ‘They’ve been married for something like fifty years.’

  ‘I can’t imagine that,’ he replies. He grabs two glasses and fills them with brandy. ‘Sit and talk for a bit?’

  ‘Okay.’ I follow him out and we sit down on the sofa. I swirl the dark liquid around in my glass, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace, starting to die down. I feel Robert’s gaze on me and finally he speaks.

  ‘Do you . . . do you think you and Lucas would have been together as long as Mick and Joan have?’

  I rest my head against the sofa and think about it. ‘I suppose you never know whether you’ll end up growing apart, but I always thought we would stay together. I think that’s been the hardest thing to accept – that we won’t be together. Having to build a future for myself without him, you know? Learning to live without him after ten years together. And not just ten years, but ten years of growing up together. We were so young. But I know Lucas would want me to build a life without him; he’d want me to live for the both of us.’