by Heidi Swain
‘If anything,’ he spat, ‘you’ve probably ruined their Christmas by sending that card, just like you’ve ruined what I’ve been planning for us today!’
‘It wasn’t me who woke up in a temper,’ I said, swallowing my fear and biting back all the things I suddenly wanted to blurt out. ‘Yesterday was fine—’
‘Apart from the fact that you said you wouldn’t come back to the flat, our home, with me.’
‘I can’t believe you’re still smarting about that,’ I shot back. ‘It was never part of the plan.’
‘Yes,’ he said, smiling nastily, ‘it was. Why do you keep pretending otherwise? You were the one who said you’d try and cut your visit short. I wonder how Dolly would feel if she knew you’d said that.’
I felt my face redden. I had only ever said it to placate him, but it was hardly the moment to highlight the fact.
‘And anyway, what about my plan?’ he raged on. ‘My plan, to give a girl like you everything she could possibly want, that should be the only plan you’re concerned about!’
‘A girl like me?’ I repeated.
‘You know what,’ he said, suddenly springing forward and snatching the pillow off my lap. ‘Sod this. We’re going home, right now.’
‘No way,’ I said, leaning back as far as I could without toppling off the bed. ‘I’m not going to the flat with you, Jonathan.’
He lunged again, this time painfully grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me forward.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ I cried out.
He had never shown any sign of being physically aggressive towards me before. Words had been his weapon of choice but somewhere along the line he’d had an upgrade and I was scared. I tried to pull away but he had too tight a hold.
‘We,’ he said, talking slowly and emphasising every word, ‘are going home. Now.’
‘No,’ I said, struggling to kneel up so I could stare straight back at him, even though it made me quake to do it. ‘We are not and if you don’t let me go, I will scream blue murder. Let me go, Jonathan.’
He ground his jaw for a second and then dropped my wrist. There were deeply pinched red marks where his fingers had been and it throbbed terribly. I rubbed it and looked at him. His breathing was shallow, the rise and fall of his chest rapid. He really was a man on the edge, but quite how he’d got there, I wasn’t sure.
‘I want you to take me back to Wynbridge,’ I told him, my voice catching in my throat.
‘No.’
‘Yes, Jonathan,’ I said, slipping off the bed so he couldn’t reach me so easily. ‘I’m going to pack and we’re checking out. I’m going to tell Dolly we’re on our way and you are going to drive me back to the cottage.’
I reached for my bag, but he snatched it up first.
‘Give it back.’
‘No,’ he said, shaking his head, his expression more shocked than angry. ‘We need to sort this.’
‘There’s nothing to sort. I ruined your big surprise and you’re pissed off with me. I get it.’
Now I could see his temper had given over to the horror of what he had done, I felt stronger, more able to face up to him again.
‘Give it a couple of hours and I’ll have the bruises to prove it,’ I added, holding up my arm so he was forced to acknowledge the evidence of his aggression. ‘I’m going to call a taxi.’
He dropped to the bed, handed me back my bag and put his head in his hands.
‘No,’ he said huskily. ‘Don’t do that. There’s no need. I’ll drive you back.’
I noted that he didn’t say he was sorry.
*
I knew it was a mistake getting in the car with him the second he re-joined the main road.
‘Can you slow down, Jonathan, please?’ I pleaded as he accelerated around the car in front, narrowly avoiding a motorbike in the oncoming lane.
‘Why?’ He shrugged. ‘I thought you were keen to get back.’
I was keen, but I wanted to arrive in one piece. In the end I hadn’t let Dolly know we were on our way because I didn’t want her worrying in case Jonathan did something stupid and we didn’t turn up. I didn’t want her to have an inkling that there was anything wrong and I was going to make sure she didn’t see the marks on my arm.
‘You know,’ said Jonathan, lifting his foot off the gas a little, but still not enough to settle my nerves, ‘you really shouldn’t talk to hotel staff like you talked to that guy at breakfast.’
‘I used to be staff,’ I reminded him, ‘and I know the value of good customer interaction.’
‘Is that what you call it?’
I ignored him. The last thing I wanted was to inflame an argument while he was behind the wheel, his right foot itching to break the current land speed record.
‘And actually,’ he carried on, ‘I wanted to talk to you about your job.’
‘I don’t have one.’
‘I know that,’ he smiled, which I found more disconcerting than his frown, ‘your next one. I think you should look for something different.’
‘A different role in a hotel, you mean?’
The brief job search I had undertaken hadn’t really inspired me at all and I wasn’t much interested in hotel management anymore.
‘No. Something completely different. You’re a great communicator, Hattie.’
I couldn’t believe the change in him. He was carrying on as if we were just idly chit-chatting, the abusive scene back in the hotel room completely forgotten.
‘You’re wasted in a reception role, even a senior one.’
The road ahead was too busy for another risky overtaking manoeuvre so I decided it was time for a little straight-talking honesty.
‘You’re right,’ I said, throwing caution to the wind and saying what was in my heart as opposed to what he wanted to hear. ‘And you know what, I’m loving working at the school. That’s what I want to do next.’
‘What?’
‘It’s something I used to think about a lot.’ I carried on, my chest fluttering, the suggestion surprising me just as much as Jonathan. ‘I think I just went along with the hotel thing because the Luccas looked after me. They offered me a refuge during a difficult time and the job was convenient.’
A bit like me accepting Jonathan’s offer to move to Abu Dhabi. That had been a refuge from the shock of being made redundant, and it was convenient too, wasn’t it?
‘But what I should have done was carry on with my education and then look for work in a school.’
‘Are you mad?’ Jonathan asked.
Was I?
‘You want to be Dolly,’ he frowned, sounding almost disgusted. ‘A teaching assistant at the lowest end of the pay scale.’
‘Perhaps,’ I said, ‘I’m not sure. Money isn’t everything, but maybe I could train as a teacher.’
‘You are mad,’ he confirmed, pressing his foot down again and pulling up to the bumper of the truck ahead. ‘I was thinking corporate. Maybe banking or public relations, not wiping arses and mopping up sick.’
‘There’s not too much of that to do by the time the kids are old enough for school,’ I corrected, my eyes trying to shut out the proximity of the registration plate in front.
Jonathan pulled back a little and was quiet for a mile or so.
‘Are we OK, Hattie?’ he eventually asked, as we reached the outskirts of Wynbridge in record time.
I shrugged, unwilling to appease him.
‘I never meant to hurt you, you know?’
Wasn’t that what all the people who abused those they allegedly loved said?
‘And I can promise you, it will never happen again.’
That I knew was lifted straight from the handbook because I’d heard it before.
‘I seem to remember,’ I told him, ‘you said something very much like that the last time I stayed in this town.’
He nodded, staring straight ahead.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘I know. Are you going to bin me off, Hattie?’
‘Not tod
ay,’ I sighed, leaning forward as the churchyard came into view. ‘You can drop me here. There’s Dolly, look.’
My friend was tending to her late husband’s grave and I was grateful that she was alone.
Jonathan indicated and pulled over a little distance away.
‘What I am going to do,’ I said, taking off my seatbelt and twisting around to face him, ‘is have a good long think about everything that’s happened between us today and I don’t want you to get in touch with me, Jonathan. I need some space. A week at least.’
My mind tracked back to the email from Mum as I imagined him saying something similar to her and Dad the Christmas before last.
‘Oh, come on,’ he said, slapping his hands on the steering wheel. ‘That’ll take us practically up to Christmas. It’s a ridiculous request.’
‘It might be to you,’ I told him, ‘but it’s not to me.’
‘I’ve just told you it won’t happen again.’
It still hadn’t occurred to him to say he was sorry, not that it would have made any difference to what I had decided I had to do.
‘Open the boot and I’ll get my bags,’ I carried on. ‘I’m guessing you aren’t going to get out to talk to Dolly?’
The vein in his neck was throbbing and the temper which he had promised wouldn’t be putting in an appearance ever again was already waving at the sidelines, demanding centre stage. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had decided to speak to Dolly, if only to tell my friend that I’d promised I’d cut my time with her short.
‘No,’ he said, flicking the boot catch, ‘I won’t be talking to her today.’
I climbed out, feeling relieved as Dolly straightened up, spotted me and waved. I waved back.
‘I’ll speak to you next weekend,’ I told Jonathan, slamming the passenger door before he had a chance to say anything else.
I retrieved my things and the second I closed the boot he shot off. Dolly waved as he sped by and I walked up to meet her. My heart felt like a lead weight in my chest and my wrist was aching so much I had to swap my overnight bag to my other hand. I had no idea what I was going to tell her, but I knew it wouldn’t be the truth. Not for now anyway.
Chapter 20
‘I wasn’t expecting you so soon,’ Dolly called when I was in earshot. ‘Where’s Jonathan off to in such a hurry?’
I didn’t answer. I didn’t much want the whole of Wynbridge, even if it was only the dearly departed, hearing me shouting along the road, not that I had any intention of hollering out the truth.
‘I hope he isn’t expecting a dinner,’ Dolly frowned. ‘I put that chicken in the freezer because I thought it was just going to be me.’
‘No,’ I said, joining her at the graveside. ‘You don’t have to worry about that. Jonathan has had to go again.’
She looked at me, her eyes shrewdly taking in my face.
‘What’s happened?’ she demanded.
I knew there was little point in saying nothing had happened. Dolly had some magical sixth sense where I was concerned and besides, she hadn’t expected me back anywhere near this early. I had told her I’d be back in time for school on Monday.
‘He had a phone call,’ I said. ‘He has to sort something at work.’
There was a certain irony that I was spinning out the same lie that she had used to explain why I had left the town so quickly after my last visit.
‘On a Sunday?’
‘I know,’ I shrugged. ‘I’m gutted. Some mix-up with a big contract or something.’
Dolly didn’t say anything.
‘But at least I’m not going to miss the third advent candle and I’ll have had a decent night sleep ahead of the last week in school,’ I said brightly.
Still nothing.
‘These are pretty,’ I said, indicating the flowers she had been arranging. ‘Will they last in this weather?’
Dolly finally released me from her all-seeing stare and I let out a long breath, relieved that she had let me off the hook. I simply couldn’t tell her what had really happened. She would be devastated if she knew about either my bruised wrist or what Mum had sent in response to my card. It was best I got it all straight in my own mind before I inflicted it on hers.
I heard a man laughing inside the church porch and turned around, my heart suddenly skipping merrily along, the horror of everything else that had happened that morning paling almost, but not quite, into insignificance.
‘Is that Beamish?’
‘Yes,’ said Dolly, straightening back up again. ‘He’s been helping the vicar with some staging for the concert tomorrow. He’s going to run me home.’
‘Hattie!’ he shouted as he stepped outside.
Dolly and I exchanged a look and I wondered if she was thinking the same as me; that it was probably no bad thing that Jonathan had dropped me and run.
‘Hey,’ I called back.
‘Well you weren’t gone long.’ His giant strides had closed the gap between us in seconds. ‘We weren’t expecting you back until tomorrow, were we, Dolly?’
‘No,’ said Dolly. ‘We weren’t.’
‘I take it you didn’t find the local landscape all that captivating then?’
‘The what?’
‘The flat Fens, the big skies?’ he questioned. ‘Oh, never mind,’ he carried on, picking up my bag and Dolly’s wooden flower trug. ‘But you missed a great night in The Mermaid, and the auction was a record-breaker. I thought you were looking forward to it all.’
‘I’m truly sorry I missed it now,’ I said, thinking that a boozy night in the pub would have been far more fun than a night of five-star luxury with Jonathan.
‘So why did you go?’ he laughed. ‘And yesterday of all days!’
I looked at his broad smile and kind eyes before he turned towards the gate and offered his arm to Dolly to keep her safe along the slippery path.
‘I have absolutely no idea,’ I sighed.
‘Well, at least we can still go to the Wonderland this afternoon. If you fancy it?’
‘Do you mind if we don’t,’ I said quietly. ‘I didn’t sleep well last night and I could do with a rest today.’
‘Oh, all right,’ he shrugged, ‘no worries.’
Beamish didn’t come in when we got back to the cottage. He said he was off to The Mermaid, but would see us at school tomorrow. I was suddenly very aware that I had been far more excited to see him emerging from the church porch than I had been to find Jonathan standing on the cottage doorstep.
‘So,’ said Dolly, once we had cobbled together a scratch lunch and made a pot of tea, ‘how was your brief time with your beau? It was a bit of a surprise him just turning up out of the blue like that, wasn’t it?’
‘Just a bit,’ I smiled.
‘And I take it my assumption as to why he turned up,’ she said, looking with emphasis at my bare ring finger, ‘was a little wide of the mark?’
‘Yes,’ I said, thinking back to the bitter words Jonathan had thrown at me about ruining his big surprise. ‘I think it might have been on the cards, but . . .’
‘But then real life called and the plan was abandoned.’
‘Something like that.’
‘Well,’ she said, pouring us both tea, ‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out and I’m also sorry to say that there was no post for you yesterday. I’m beginning to think I should never have nagged you about trying to get back in touch with your parents. I hope their silence hasn’t upset you too much, my dear.’
Knowing how bad she felt, I couldn’t lie about that as well as the real reason behind my early return, but I would have to hold back certain details, for now at least.
‘Actually,’ I told her. ‘I did receive mail yesterday. Just not the sort that comes via the postman.’
‘An email?’ she asked, her face lighting up. ‘From your parents?’
‘From Mum,’ I elaborated.
‘And,’ she carried on, ‘what did she say?’
‘Amongst other things, that she and D
ad were happy to hear from me.’
‘Oh Hattie,’ she cried, clapping her hands together and almost making Tiddles stir. ‘That’s wonderful news! You’ll be able to go to Abu Dhabi reconciled.’
‘Perhaps,’ I said, thinking more of Abu Dhabi than the family disharmony.
‘You will,’ she enthused, ‘you’ll be able to leave knowing that everything here is as it should be. I can’t for one second imagine that you really intended to banish your parents for ever,’ she rambled on. ‘In fact, I can’t help wondering . . .’
‘What?’
‘Oh nothing,’ she said. ‘Ignore me. You will tell Beamish, won’t you?’ She went on, sounding excited again. ‘You must tell him. The poor chap has been feeling so bad about being the one who posted the card.’
‘But it wasn’t his fault,’ I reminded her. ‘It was just a mistake. We told him that.’
‘I know,’ she said, ‘I know, but he also knows how upset you’ve been about it. Not a day’s gone by when he hasn’t mentioned it.’
I was sorry that he had been worrying so much. I hadn’t realised it had weighed so heavy on his mind.
‘In that case,’ I said, ‘I’ll definitely make a point of telling him.’
‘I’m sure he would appreciate that,’ she said, her tone changing from excitement to sadness. ‘Dear Beamish.’
I knew that Dolly was extremely fond of her friend, as was everyone who knew him. He really was a gentle giant in the truest sense of the word and with a heart of pure gold to boot. I was fond of him myself, perhaps fonder than I should have been and, even though he didn’t know it of course, grateful that our timely friendship had highlighted so many of the things that were wrong with my relationship with Jonathan.
I looked up and found Dolly staring at me. A shadow had fallen across her face and she looked anxious.
‘What is it?’ I asked, caught off guard.
‘Nothing,’ she said, hastily turning her attention back to her crackers and cheese.
I stirred my tea.
‘As Beamish has come up in conversation,’ I ventured after a few seconds had passed.
‘Yes,’ said Dolly quickly.