‘Mummy loves you,’ she murmured. ‘Shall we go home?’
‘Let’s all go in the van,’ said Dave. ‘We can leave your car in the car park and collect it in the morning.’
Twenty minutes later, Sarah climbed into Dave’s van with a very drowsy Zac in his car seat between them. The evening sky was tinged with bands of red and orange and from the top floor of the car park, Nottingham’s landscape shimmered in the fading light. It was a beautiful end to an otherwise ugly day.
Sarah took one of Zac’s hands and stroked his warm skin, soothing him back to sleep. She chewed the skin around her thumbnail and peered at Dave, watching as he drove the van out of the hospital campus. The events of the last twenty-four hours were so far from the norm that in her emotional state, she wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. Had she really seen him kissing Rebecca?
‘So where were you?’ he asked. ‘I was getting a bit desperate not being able to reach you.’
The words leapt out at her in the silence, making her jump.
‘At Jo’s,’ she stuttered. ‘My battery died on my phone. I’m sorry about that, Dave. I really am, I’ll never forgive myself for not being there.’
She should ring them; Jo and Carrie would both be worried about Zac. And her.
He frowned at her. ‘Did I know you were going there? Because if you told me, I completely forgot.’
She stared at him, her stomach twitching with nerves.
Part of her wanted to get everything off her chest, the other part wanted to crawl into bed and erase the day from her memory banks permanently. She shuddered; no matter what happened next with her and Dave, the image of Zac in that hospital ward would stay with her for ever. Maybe now wasn’t the time.
But it was a bit like a scab: once the urge to pick it had occurred to her, she couldn’t leave it alone.
She took a deep breath.
‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I had a bad day at work, left early with a migraine … and got back to Woodby to see you kissing Rebecca.’ She paused. ‘I couldn’t face confronting you about it so I ran away instead.’
Dave made a choking noise. ‘Bloody hell, Sarah. If I wasn’t so knackered, I’d laugh.’
She glared at him. She could think of many words to describe this situation. None of them was funny.
‘I’ve pushed you away, I realize that. But I’m so sad that you’ve cheated on me. I know Rebecca’s a much better mother than me.’ Sarah stared down at her lap, determined not to let any more tears fall. ‘She’d probably be a much better wife too.’
‘I haven’t cheated on you.’ He gazed at her, bemused. ‘And none of the rest is true either. She’s gay, for a start.’
Sarah blinked rapidly. ‘Oh. She doesn’t look gay.’
Dave raised an eyebrow.
‘You don’t deny kissing her, then?’ said Sarah, feeling like the list of her own mistakes was getting longer and longer by the minute.
‘I found a little teddy bear in the park with “Ava” written on its T-shirt so I dropped it in on the way past. Rebecca was really grateful; it was Ava’s favourite and she’d turned her house upside down looking for it, apparently.’ Sarah could feel his eyes boring into hers. ‘So she kissed me. Simple as that.’
Sarah turned her face to the car window and pressed her hot cheek against the glass. What an idiot. She couldn’t have got today more wrong if she’d tried.
‘How do you know? About her, I mean?’
Dave shrugged and kept his eyes focused on his driving. ‘We both feel like misfits in the village sometimes. She’s a gay single mum. I’m a house husband. There aren’t many of us around; in fact, it’s a club of two.’
She reached across and squeezed Dave’s hand.
‘I’m sorry I doubted you,’ she said quietly.
Dave brought the van to a halt as they approached red lights. He lifted her hand to his lips.
‘After the way I behaved last night?’ He shook his head. ‘It’s me who should be apologizing. I should never have told you to turn down the promotion. I ruined our first date in ages, then to compound it, I got drunk and came home late and missed saying sorry to you this morning. I’ve felt bad about it all day, but I was too ashamed to call you. I thought I’d make it up to you tonight but then all this happened with Zac.’
They looked at each other and her heart swelled with love for him. ‘We haven’t really talked properly in ages, have we?’
He groaned suddenly. ‘God, I’m sorry, I haven’t even asked. Did you get the partnership?’
‘No. But do you know what, I’m glad.’ She laughed at his shocked expression. They were fine; everything was going to be OK. ‘You were right; the job is making me miserable.’
She glanced down at Zac as he snuffled in his sleep and felt an enormous weight lift from her chest.
‘I’ve had my priorities wrong ever since I went back to work. But that’s all going to change. I don’t know how yet, but from now on I’m going to get the balance right.’
Dave wove his fingers through her hair, pulled her in close and brushed his lips softly against hers.
‘I love you,’ she whispered.
The lights turned to green and a car tooted behind them.
‘Hold that thought,’ said Dave with a grin. ‘We’ll be home in ten minutes.’
Chapter 30
Carrie and Alex both kissed Jo goodbye at the door of her flat.
‘You are both welcome to stay in my spare room, you know?’ said Jo, keeping hold of Carrie’s hand. She looked genuinely disappointed to see them go.
The thought of the making-up she was planning to do later brought colour to Carrie’s cheeks.
‘Thank you, but now we know that Zac is going to be OK, we’ll get back to Woodby. I want to call round early tomorrow to check up on Sarah and Dave, see if they need anything.’
Her eyes flicked to Alex; she hadn’t filled him in on Rebecca’s situation yet, sensing that one alleged affair was enough for one day.
Carrie followed Alex’s car carefully back up the motorway to Nottingham. Motorway driving was another of the many things she had shied away from in adulthood. It was late now and the road was empty; so much less frenetic than her journey down this afternoon. It had been a bit hair-raising at times, but she couldn’t help being proud of herself for giving it a go. The summer sky was still light, the last of the sun’s setting rays tingeing it with a warm glow and matching her mood perfectly. The radio was tuned into the love songs show and she sighed happily as a Michael Bublé number filled the car with ‘Crazy Love’.
Back at Fern House, Carrie put away her car keys and her handbag, topped up the water in the vase of roses in the hall and tried to ignore the wild horses that appeared to be charging through her body. Today marked a turning point in their relationship. She and Alex had let themselves drift further and further apart and she was determined to put that right tonight. She was a different person now to the troubled twenty-one-year-old he’d fallen in love with. Then, she’d desperately needed someone to rely on. But now she was a grown woman who craved independence. But that didn’t mean she loved Alex any less; all they needed was to look at their marriage with fresh eyes and she felt sure that they would have a happy future together.
Alex poured them both a drink and smiled at her from the dining-room doorway.
‘Gin and tonic?’
She took the glass from him gratefully and knocked it back in two large gulps and before she had time to change her mind, then she nodded her head vaguely in the direction of upstairs and said, ‘Shall we, um …?’
Her cheeks were flaming; it was the first time she had ever initiated anything in the bedroom. But she was determined to change, to show Alex exactly how much she loved him. As he came forward to kiss her, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the hall mirror and gave a yelp.
She had never got round to combing her wet hair. Now she looked like a complete mess.
‘Actually, can you just give m
e a minute?’ she said and dashed up the stairs to do battle with her hair straighteners and a black mascara wand, with the sound of Alex’s deep throaty laugh ringing joyfully in her ears.
An hour later in bed, Carrie lay with her head on Alex’s chest, blissfully relaxed. Her fingers twirled his chest hair, which she noticed with a rush of love, had started to show threads of silver. She was floating on air, she thought, smiling to herself; every nerve was tingling and her whole body was fizzing with happiness. She lifted her head and looked at her husband. His eyes were closed but there was a contented smile on his face.
‘Was that OK?’ she murmured.
He squeezed her tight and she snuggled in closer. ‘You were amazing.’
Carrie sighed. ‘That’s what they all say. Ouch!’ She giggled as Alex pinched her arm playfully. ‘Seriously, though, I’m getting my confidence back, you know, since losing weight.’
‘That’s great, Carrie, really,’ said Alex, pulling her towards him for another kiss.
She propped herself up on her elbow before he got carried away.
‘I’ve been thinking about getting a job. Now, I know you didn’t like it when I worked before,’ she said hurriedly, ‘but—’
He rolled over to face her, frowning. ‘I never minded you working.’
‘Alex! You did!’ said Carrie in disbelief. ‘That’s why I gave up.’
He stared, mouth open. ‘I don’t believe this.’
‘You were so cross about me not taking time off on our first wedding anniversary, when you’d booked us lunch somewhere,’ she countered. ‘But it was Mother’s Day and—’
She caught sight of the frustration etched on Alex’s face. She was in danger of ruining the mood again. She should have kept her mouth shut.
‘It wasn’t just lunch,’ he said after a moment’s silence. ‘I’d booked flights and lunch in Paris. As a surprise. After,’ he stressed, ‘checking with your boss first. But you refused, said you couldn’t leave her to do all the Mother’s Day bouquets on her own.’
‘No wonder you were angry,’ she said in a small voice.
‘I was a bit cheesed off,’ admitted Alex.
Understatement of the decade, thought Carrie. He hadn’t spoken to her for two days.
‘But it just confirms what I said earlier,’ he said with a smile. ‘You are totally selfless. Most people would have jumped at the chance of a day off on a busy weekend.’
‘Paris,’ breathed Carrie dreamily. ‘How romantic. It was a lovely thought. I’m sorry I spoilt your surprise, like I did today too.’
Alex regarded her face earnestly and shook his head sadly. ‘I’m sorry that we got our wires crossed over it. I would never have made you give up your job at the florist’s; I could see how much it meant to you.’
Carrie nodded wistfully, remembering how she had revelled in combining different flowers for her customers according to the message they wished to send; thanks, friendship, love, passion, and there was even an art in striking the right note for sorrow. Doing the wedding flowers for that couple a few weeks ago had brought it all back. Seeing the bride gasp in wonder had filled Carrie’s heart with joy.
‘Don’t worry,’ soothed Alex, assuming she was lamenting the lost weekend in Paris. ‘We can go this year. I could book some flights. August, perhaps? What do you think?’ His eyes shone and he stroked her cheek with his thumb.
Carrie laughed and kissed him, thinking how like an excited little boy he looked. She suddenly remembered the wish she had made to wear a bikini this summer. She had never had the confidence to wear one on their honeymoon, but maybe this year would be different.
‘How about somewhere warmer instead? How about Marbella? In September?’ she said, thinking that she would still like to lose a few more pounds. Maybe it could be a second honeymoon.
Maybe – the idea tugged at her heart – they could talk about starting a family? She wouldn’t mention it tonight, not when their relationship was still so fragile. That conversation had kept for ten years, a few more weeks wouldn’t hurt.
‘Your wish is my command.’ Alex grinned wolfishly. He tugged at the thin sheet that was protecting Carrie’s modesty and she resisted the urge to dive back underneath it. ‘Now, before I have my wicked way with you again … Is there anything else you need to get off your chest?’
Carrie hesitated, only for a micro-second and shook her head. But it was long enough for Alex to notice.
‘Come on, Carrie, after what you’ve accused me of already today, you can’t shock me. Spit it out.’
‘Well,’ she said awkwardly, unable to meet his eyes. ‘You criticize my cooking. Sorry, but it’s true.’
Alex looked thoughtful for a few moments and Carrie held her breath, wondering if she had gone too far. He started to nod slowly.
‘I can see why you might think that,’ he conceded.
‘Alex, anyone would think that,’ said Carrie with a tut.
‘In my defence,’ he gave her a guilty smile, ‘you asked for feedback on your cooking.’
‘Once,’ she corrected. ‘Before we were married. You were much more knowledgeable than me at the time and I wanted to learn.’
He winced. ‘I’ve become a food snob, haven’t I?’
She bit her lip and nodded. ‘A bit.’
‘Sorry. No excuse, I know, but the standards at Cavendish Hall are so high. I guess I’ve been bringing my work home too often.’
Carrie snorted with laughter. ‘I was a terrible cook when you met me, wasn’t I?’
‘Remember that recipe book you used to have?’ he laughed softly.
‘One Hundred Ways with Mince? How could I forget?’ Carrie cringed. ‘I think I tried ninety-nine of them out on you.’
‘I came round to your flat once and found you in floods of tears under a mountain of split cabbage leaves. The place stank to high heaven.’ He chuckled at the memory.
‘Oh yes,’ she giggled, ‘every time I tried to roll the leaves up, they tore and the mince fell out. The book went in the bin that night, I seem to remember. We had Chinese takeaway instead.’
‘Well, that’s in the past and I will never be rude about your food again. Promise. Anyway, you’re a fantastic cook.’ Alex leaned forward to kiss her but Carrie wriggled free.
‘Even my pastry?’ She raised an eyebrow pointedly, thinking back to the funeral. ‘You said it was heavy.’
‘I take it all back. Your pastry is soft and buttery.’ He lifted a strand of her hair and kissed her neck. ‘And delicious.’ He continued a line of kisses down towards her collarbone. Carrie shivered in delight. ‘And melts in the mouth.’ He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. ‘Just like you.’
Carrie squirmed with pleasure at the sensations he was awakening in her body. ‘I love you, Alex.’
‘Oh yeah?’ he said, laying her back against the pillows. ‘Show me.’
And with a new twinkle of confidence in her eyes, Carrie pulled her husband towards her and did just that.
Chapter 31
Sarah hurried along Main Street armed with a tape measure, notepad and camera and came to a halt outside the post office in Woodby. Her stomach performed an impressive tumble routine – nosedive, backflip and forward roll – as she checked her watch for the fifth time since leaving Rose Cottage.
She was a few minutes early. Good. Just time to catch her breath and go over her questions.
Eleanor – in a rare show of empathy – had approved Sarah’s last-minute request for annual leave and she had spent a few delicious days at home enjoying being part of a family. Zac had made a full recovery in time for his birthday today and, with his mummy and daddy’s encouragement, had taken his first steps. Sarah was chilled out for the first time in months and it felt wonderful. The time off had given her a chance to consider her future career plans. And her future, she had concluded, was not at Finch and Partners.
Instead, a new idea had begun to whirr away and the two things – or rather one thing and one person – whic
h she hadn’t been able to shake from her mind were the old post office in the village, which was available to rent, and Heather McCloud with her successful catering business.
It was probably not the best time to be viewing business premises, she mused, when guests were arriving for Zac’s birthday party in just over two hours. But this had been the earliest available appointment with the estate agent and she was so fired up about the possibility of a new venture that she simply couldn’t wait.
Speaking with her accountant’s hat on, if she were to set up her own business, as Heather had done so amazingly, the sensible thing to do would be to start off from home to keep the overheads down. But Rose Cottage was just too small and so the post office was the next best thing.
She pushed against the heavy metal door handle, expecting it to be locked. To her surprise, the door, creaky with disuse, swung open and an old-fashioned bell tinkled to sound her arrival. The interior was dark and cool and the air smelt damp and musty. It was not especially inviting, but it was nothing that Dave with his decorating skills couldn’t fix.
The shop was narrow, with two small windows flanking the glass front door, but it extended back a long way. The shabby fixtures and fittings revealed that the post office had once sold everything from cigarettes to fireworks.
Sarah followed the well-worn groove in the old red quarry tiles towards the back of the shop.
‘First-class stamp, madam?’ boomed a jocular voice from nowhere.
‘Jesus!’ Sarah clutched at her chest and her tape measure, camera and notebook clattered to the floor.
A middle-aged man with dark slicked-back hair and a navy suit sprang up from behind the post office counter, clearly delighted with his little joke.
‘Made you jump, did I? Sorry.’ The man flipped up the hatch in the counter and strode forward to greet her.
Sarah shook his hand and wondered how to wipe the clamminess off without being too obvious.
‘Colin Hanley, estate agent. And you must be …’ He rifled through his papers until he found a yellow sticky note.
‘Sarah Hudson,’ she supplied.
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