by Lucy Dillon
‘Will you come with me?’ asked Alice, and hated the way it came out.
‘Of course.’ Libby met her eye and said quietly, ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of, Alice. You’ve done nothing wrong.’
Libby walked straight over, and when Gethin saw them approaching, he smiled – his sweet, ‘like-me’ smile – which instantly made Alice worry that Libby would think she was mad.
‘Hello, Gethin!’ said Libby. ‘How nice of you to come!’
‘Thank you for inviting me,’ he replied, sliding an arm round Alice’s waist. ‘You’ve done an incredible job. Congratulations.’
‘I’ve been very lucky to get so much help,’ said Libby. ‘Alice has been indispensable.’
‘She’s brilliant, isn’t she?’ Gethin squeezed her proudly and Alice thought it was rich, given the way he grumbled about her overtime, and Libby ‘taking advantage’.
‘So what are you up to at work at the moment?’ asked Libby in her cocktail-party voice. ‘Any tours coming up? Ah, one second – here’s Luke. I need a quick word.’ And she waved him over.
Alice felt a moment’s panic, then told herself not to be so stupid. It would be fine. It would be fine.
But her instincts were saying something else.
Luke had put on a suit for the occasion. Alice had never seen him out of his work clothes or his jeans; the suit made him seem more serious but also handsome in a sharp-cheekboned, actorish way. It was well cut, and the pale blue shirt was unbuttoned at the neck. Somehow, knowing there was an apple tattoo hidden under the dark cuff made her skin prickle.
‘Hello, Alice,’ he said, and she wondered why he sounded so formal, but then his eyes slid to Gethin.
‘Luke, is it right that you and Gethin haven’t actually met?’ said Libby. ‘Gethin, this is my brother-in-law, Luke. Luke, this is Gethin.’
They shook hands awkwardly. Or rather, Alice thought Gethin seemed tense and Luke looked like he’d rather be somewhere else.
‘It’ll have changed a lot since you were last properly inside, won’t it, Gethin?’ said Libby.
He was about to answer when Libby’s face suddenly lit up, as a couple approached. Alice didn’t know who they were, but from their very stylishly casual outfits, and the way Libby bounced forward to meet them, she assumed they were old friends from London.
‘Erin!’ she cried, flinging her arms open wide. ‘Erin! You made it!’
The woman responded with a squeal and a hug too, and then Libby hugged the man, and turned back to Alice and the others. ‘These lovely people are my friends Erin and Pete . . .’
‘Who are so thrilled to be here,’ added the woman, in an American accent.
Libby made the introductions, then touched Alice apologetically on the arm. ‘I must get these two a drink, and show them their room. I’ll catch up with you all. Have some champagne!’
That left Alice alone, with Gethin and Luke. And Bob.
Bob had been sniffing Luke’s ankles, and now he waved his tail.
‘No show without Punch, eh, Bob?’ said Luke, bending down to scratch Bob’s wrinkly head. ‘You’re the real family host. Aren’t you?’
‘You’ll have heard the news about our little family?’ said Gethin conversationally, and Alice’s throat tightened. What did he mean by that? The baby? Had he guessed? Was he putting her on the spot, in front of Luke?
She saw Gethin was looking at Bob and reassured herself. No, he meant Fido. Fido was their little family.
Luke straightened up, and his face was unemotional. Then he smiled, but it was so unlike his normal smile that Alice almost cried out.
‘Congratulations,’ he said. ‘You must both be thrilled.’
‘Cheers! Although I’m not sure it’s really something to congratulate us on,’ said Gethin. ‘It was more one of those amazing coincidences. It’s lucky Fido ended up in the same park as Alice was walking your dog in.’
‘Oh! Sorry, I thought you were talking about the baby.’ Luke glanced between Alice and Gethin.
Alice felt the floor drop from beneath her.
‘Whose baby?’ Gethin frowned.
‘Yours.’ Too late, realisation flashed into Luke’s eyes and he squeezed his brows together. Too late.
‘Alice?’ Gethin looked at her and she couldn’t make her mouth move to reply.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Luke. ‘I really thought—’
‘Don’t apologise, mate.’ Gethin still seemed stunned. ‘That’s . . . that’s amazing news. Listen, um, Alice and I need to have a chat . . .’
Luke raised his hands. ‘Of course. I’ll leave you to it.’
There was nothing she could do but follow as Gethin grabbed her hand and led her towards the lounge, which was set up ready for the afternoon tea. Alice could see Fido in there, napping on one of the sofas, a ball of white fur.
Behind the dark curtain of Alice’s memory, something began to stir. A feeling of déjà vu. A flicker of images: red tulips. A tea towel with blackbirds on it. The kitchen, in Gethin’s house. She hadn’t seen that tea towel since. Where had it gone?
‘Gethin, can you let go of my wrist, please?’ she said. ‘That hurts.’
He was gripping her so tightly the metal strap of her watch was cutting into the tender skin by her bone.
‘Sorry,’ he said, but didn’t let go until they were in the lounge, where he shut the glass door behind them.
Fido jumped off the sofa at once when she saw them and Alice bent down to stroke her, to buy herself some time. What could she say? Deny it?
This is the moment, she thought. Tell him. Go. But something was holding her back.
‘So come on.’ Gethin sounded excited. ‘What’s this? You’re pregnant? Has Luke got the wrong end of the stick?’
Alice nodded slowly.
‘Oh my God! That’s amazing! That’s absolutely amazing!’ His face glowed and he hugged her tightly to him, too happy to notice her lack of response. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Have you just found out?’
Tell him. Alice nodded. He was thrilled – how could she puncture that? It felt as if his joy were backing her into a corner, defying her to contradict it.
‘But . . .’ Gethin’s eyes ran up and down her body. ‘No wonder you didn’t know – you’re not showing at all. You must be five, six months along.’
‘Five or six months?’
‘Yes.’ He flushed. ‘That would be the last time we . . . you know. Your birthday, in February. Things hadn’t been great on that front, to be honest, but maybe that’s why.’ His expression brightened. ‘That would explain how moody and weird you were. Why you didn’t like being touched. I knew there had to be a reason.’
This isn’t right, thought Alice. Something really isn’t right here. Was he telling the truth? February? They hadn’t slept together since February?
‘I was going to wait until you’d moved your things in properly, but now we need to make this official . . . You know I’m an old-fashioned romantic.’ Gethin began to drop to his knee and finally something snapped in Alice’s brain.
‘No!’ Her voice was sharp. Too loud to be polite.
‘What?’ Gethin looked up from his uncomfortable position on the floor. ‘Come on, I’m trying to do this properly . . .’
‘You’re not proposing, are you?’
‘I certainly am. You’re the mother of my child – I think the least I can do is make an honest woman of you.’
Alice heard herself say, ‘I can’t marry you.’
‘Why? I don’t care about what happened in the past. Forget that.’ His eyes had never seemed so huge, gazing up at her. ‘We’re meant to be together. I said that from the start.’
‘But I don’t know you.’
Gethin’s face crumpled. ‘What? Alice, what do you mean, you don’t know me? How can you say that? You saved me.’
Blood hammered in her ears. That was too cruel, she thought. The words slid into her head from nowhere. What has he got if I don’t love him anymore? He’s going to threaten to kill himself, and it’ll be my fault.
Wait. He hadn’t threatened to kill himself, had he? Was this déjà vu? Something about the words passing through her mind was weirdly familiar. I’ve been here before, thought Alice. But I can’t have been.
She stumbled on, trying to remember what Libby had said, when it sounded so reasonable. ‘I’m sorry, Gethin, but whatever we had . . . it’s not there now. I can’t marry you. I hope we can be friends, and try to make the best of this, but . . .’
‘But the baby – you can’t just walk away from me. From us. You don’t know what you’re saying. It’s the hormones.’ He got up, standing very close to her now. ‘Maybe we should go home and talk about this.’
By her feet, Fido started whimpering.
‘I don’t want to go home.’ Alice’s voice was firmer than she felt, but something in it made Fido whimper even harder.
‘Shut up, Fido,’ snapped Gethin. He took a step towards Alice and Fido’s whimper changed to a low growl, the growl of a much bigger dog.
‘Ssshhh,’ she said, but while she was looking at Fido, trying to reassure her, she felt a sudden movement near her face. Gethin had gripped the hair at the back of her neck; from outside the door, it would look as if he was affectionately caressing her neck, prior to a tender kiss, but he’d twisted her hair round his fingers and was pulling tightly, so much that she had to lean back her head.
‘Is this some kind of game you’re playing?’ said Gethin. Despite the pain he was causing her, he seemed bewildered and hurt. ‘Are you treating me like those other boyfriends you told me about? Being mean to me to keep me keen? Is that it? Is that what you want me to do? Because I’m not going to give up on us, Alice. We were supposed to find each other. No one’s ever going to love you like I do.’
Something was moving behind the curtain in Alice’s mind, memories pushing and jostling to the surface, clicking together in a chain that was starting to make sense. She could smell curry, for some reason. Curry that she hated the taste of, she’d eaten it so much. Their curry.
She had a sudden jolt of fear for Fido, a foreboding feeling that made her dizzy. Too many things were pushing around in her head, as the pathways of her brain flooded with too many images, too much to process. She could taste something metallic. She had a vision of tulips. Tulips scattered on the white kitchen tiles. Trying to run in flip-flops, trying to carry Fido.
Fido carried on growling, and as Gethin tightened his grip on Alice’s hair, and she yelped in pain, Fido barked, twice, three times in protective fury, jumping up around his leg.
‘No, Fido, no,’ Alice begged, but Gethin didn’t even speak. Without warning, he kicked the little terrier hard in the stomach, sending her flying across the room, where she landed with a thud against the sofa.
Alice gasped, her heart too light in her chest. And in that instant, her memory came back in a tumbling, sickening flood.
Chapter Thirty-One
Alice stood frozen to the spot, her head spinning and tight with frantic mental activity. Jumbled images flashed in front of her mind’s eye, but faster and harder than when she’d found Fido’s stuff in the cupboard. These were darker memories, fear and panic, memories that made her chest light with adrenalin.
The curtain had gone. Now when she reached out, her mind found memories, old feelings, clicking and linking.
She hadn’t planned to leave that day. She’d decided to give Gethin notice that she’d be moving out, because it just wasn’t working with them sharing a house, as flatmates. It was over, and he would move on much more quickly if she wasn’t around. One of them had to face the fact that they were friends, not lovers (and even then Alice knew she was being kind).
‘You’ll find someone else,’ she’d told him. ‘You’re a lovely guy.’
And he was. A lovely guy. Just not for her. Not when she wasn’t full of Italian wine and sun and New Age hopefulness.
The betrayed expression in Gethin’s eyes came back to her in a flash. He hadn’t accepted it. He hadn’t accepted their relationship was over when she moved into the spare room. She’d been there for months. She’d only shared his bed for six, seven weeks, until she’d realised the chemistry wasn’t right between them, and she’d liked him too much to pretend. But even then Gethin had refused to give up. They had a special connection, he insisted; they were soulmates; it wasn’t just sex. But his love drained something out of her; the more he needed her, the more exhausted Alice felt.
She’d tried to leave before. Alone in a new place, not enough money to move out, with Fido to look after, a job to hold down – and Gethin reminding her how much he needed her around She’d caved in. After that, he’d seen it as a sign that she secretly wanted to stay, and occasionally reminded her that he saw something in her that her other boyfriends hadn’t. Then not so occasionally. Then regularly, until Alice had started to think maybe he had a point.
But that morning . . . Alice had had a reason to leave at last. A very good reason that made the words flow where they’d stuck, guiltily, in her throat before. She’d met someone else. Someone who didn’t make her feel faintly ashamed of herself. Someone who sent sparks of white-hot joy through her whole body. She’d fought it for a while, wary of making the same mistake twice, but he was different, and she wanted to be free to admit what she felt.
Gethin’s reaction had been worse than she’d expected. Tears, yes. Not this outrage. The force of it took her by surprise.
‘How can anyone love you like I do?’ he’d demanded, and the shine in his eyes had turned Alice’s indistinct worries into something sharp. ‘You can’t go. We have to talk about this.’
You can’t go. The grip on her wrist. The low growl from Fido.
It flashed in front of her eyes now like a film she couldn’t stop.
The tearful attempt to kiss her. Her pushing him away. More growling from Fido.
Then the shaking, the angry grab as she tried to shut down the conversation. Fido barking. Barking, barking, barking.
Horrified, Alice closed her eyes, but it only made the memories clearer. Gethin lashing out at Fido, snarling at her viciously.
That had been when she realised she didn’t know Gethin at all. When she had no idea what he might be capable of.
That had been when she’d scrambled to leave, with only what she had in her pocket, and her whimpering dog under her arm.
That’s when he’d told her about the ‘surprise’ holiday he’d booked for them, and she’d run, run out of the house.
Alice let out a cry and tried to go over to Fido, who was motionless against the sofa, but Gethin still had hold of her hair.
‘Let go of me!’ Alice yanked herself free. She didn’t even feel the sting on her scalp as she pushed him away.
Gethin covered his mouth with his hands, his eyes wide with shock above them. ‘I didn’t mean it! You made me do that, Alice. I just care about you so much. I’m sorry . . .’ He made a move towards her, but she held up her hands, warning him off.
‘Lay a finger on me and I will scream this place down,’ she said, and meant it.
Where did you look for a pulse on a dog? Alice didn’t know. She didn’t know where to touch her, in case she accidentally hurt her. Fido’s eyes were two fine lines on her narrow face; she could have been sleeping, but Alice knew she wasn’t.
She felt sick with panic. Fido was only protecting her, doing what she could . . .
Gethin took another step closer, his head tilted to one side. ‘I’m sorry, Alice. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It’s been so weird, you not recognising me, not remembering us – I feel I’ve lost everything. You made me feel complete, and now you say you don’t remember – it’s killing me . . .
’
He’s lied from the start, she thought, as newly released memories spilled randomly through her mind. Meeting him in London. That beach in Aberystwyth, so cold and salty. A tent, kisses and crushed grass. What was real? All those photos, the slideshow, the playlists . . . No wonder they all stopped at my birthday – that’s when I told him it wasn’t working. Gethin had let her think the relationship was still going on, and she’d believed him. Bile rose up her throat. She’d have stayed, her and the baby forever. Wondering why she couldn’t remember anything, getting trapped deeper in his web of neediness. Turning into his version of her, losing herself.
‘Get away from me,’ she said, as evenly as she could.
Gethin reached out and grabbed her hand. ‘You owe it to us to talk about this.’
‘I’ve got nothing to say.’ She shook him off, anger flooding her. ‘I was leaving! You know I was leaving! You lied and lied . . .’ Fido wasn’t moving. ‘You told me Fido was dead so I’d feel bad about losing her – you knew I didn’t lose her! You’re sick!’
Alice pulled herself away from him, looking towards the glass door. While they’d been talking, more guests had arrived, and now the reception was full of people enjoying the happy atmosphere and Libby’s triumph – she couldn’t drag her dirty linen through there. She couldn’t leave Fido with him either.
‘Go and get some help, please. Quick.’
Gethin positioned himself between her and the door. ‘No, let’s get this sorted out. I want to go out there and tell the world our news – you can’t deny me that, surely?’
‘What? No! There is no way you’re announcing anything.’
Someone was approaching the door – a guest probably, wanting to see the new lounge. Alice’s heart thudded with relief, but Gethin saw her head turn and moved quickly to open the door, using his body to block any sight of the room.
‘Sorry, mate,’ he said, in his affable Welsh accent, devoid of the earlier rage. ‘We’re just sorting out a few things here – can you give us a minute? Special moment in a couple’s life, isn’t it . . .’