by Kate Field
‘Don’t you dare!’ With lightning reflexes he grasped my waist, picked me up and spun me round. ‘I’ve waited too long for this.’
‘What do you mean?’ I glanced at my watch as he lowered me to the ground, hands still round me. ‘Bang on seven o’clock, exactly as instructed. I’m not late.’
‘Of course you’re not, my perfect, efficient Mary. But I’ve been here since six.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Hoping.’
‘Oh, that’s an excellent answer. How long did it take you to come up with that?’
‘Twenty years, on and off.’
‘Well, I suppose you always were sporty rather than academic, weren’t you?’
He laughed and pulled me closer.
‘Are you only here to see New York?’
‘I’ve always wanted to visit.’
‘I know. So come here.’ He steered me over to the railing and stood behind me, an arm on either side protecting me. ‘Look, there’s Manhattan to the right. Amazing, isn’t it?’ I nodded. ‘And over to the left, there’s Brooklyn, and somewhere in the middle of those lights is where I live. And look straight ahead, and you can see the Statue of Liberty.’ He pointed.
I turned round to face him.
‘And what if I look this way?’ I asked.
‘There’s me. Just a man who loves you and who still can’t believe you’re real.’
I reached up and stroked the side of his face.
‘Totally real, and totally here.’
He grasped my hand and led me along the bridge.
‘Last time we met …’
I squeezed his hand and interrupted him.
‘I was an idiot. You were right. Forget the past.’
‘I can’t. Not if you think you can’t trust me.’
‘I can. Audrey explained. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘That I left because my mum told me to? Sure, that would have impressed you. And I couldn’t harm your relationship with Mum. I know what she means to you.’
I’d wondered if that was his reason – if he had, in his own way, been showing loyalty again, even though it had acted against his own interests.
‘Has Audrey told you the latest news?’ I asked. ‘About Mum’s boyfriend?’
‘Yes.’ He looked at me. ‘But don’t worry. I still love you even though your father’s a convict.’ He laughed. ‘I don’t care about anything but you. Although I suppose I do care a bit. But only because it’s such a romantic story of love surviving through the years that you might think it eclipses mine.’
We had reached a stone turret on the bridge. Ethan stopped.
‘I love you, Mary. Tell me you’ve reconsidered. You can’t have come all this way to turn me down again.’
‘But are you sure? You’d be getting the worst part of me – the horrible old age part.’
Ethan held both my hands.
‘I’ll take it. I’d take it a thousand times. I’ll fan you through your hot flushes. I’ll buy your incontinence knickers. I’ll brush your glorious hair when it’s turning grey. I’ll iron your elasticated waist trousers. I’ll be the most devoted nurse when your hips or knees are replaced. Our false teeth will sit side by side in tumblers beside our bed. I’ll hold your gnarled old hand until one of us takes our last breath. And if it’s you first, I promise I’ll follow right behind. I won’t ever let you go again.’
What could I possibly say to that? Nothing. Not a single word I’d ever read, in the greatest literature in the world, was adequate to describe how I felt. All I could do was kiss him.
‘There’s a problem,’ I said at last, drawing away. ‘I promised Ava that no one would move in with us.’
‘That was unfortunate. Did Mum send me a birthday present?’
‘Yes, I’d forgotten.’ I rummaged in my bag, baffled by the abrupt change of subject, and pulled out a small box tied with a ribbon. I gave it to Ethan and he opened it and showed me a key lying inside.
‘What is it?’
‘The key to Waterman’s Cottage.’ He smiled. ‘I’ve bought it. You like it, don’t you?’
‘I love it. But why …’
‘Because this time I was never going to give up.’ He kissed me. ‘We can go at your pace. I’ll live there, and you can stay as often as you can. And one day, I hope you and Joe and Ava will move in with me. Because this is serious, for the rest of our lives. And just so you’re quite clear what my intentions are, I’m not going to rest until you are, in every way, my Mary Black.’
‘I love you,’ I said. Words failed me again: I had cherished them my whole life, and now when I needed them, they simply weren’t adequate to explain. Love: four letters weren’t enough to describe how utterly happy I was to be here with him, how the idea of a life with him was like looking through a kaleidoscope and seeing a shimmering swirl of colour ahead.
‘Hallelujah! She says it at last.’ And this time, when Ethan kissed me, it was different: all caution and uncertainty gone, replaced by confidence and passion that twisted round my soul and bound me more surely to him by the second.
‘Why did we meet here?’ I asked, when I drew away a fraction to breathe.
‘It’s one of my favourite places in New York. And it seemed a sort of crossroads. I was going to offer you a choice. Go that way …’ He pointed towards Manhattan. ‘And I can deliver you safely back to your hotel, back to the life you know. Or you can come the other way, come home with me to Brooklyn and see what my life is – what our life could be.’
The hotel he’d chosen was beautiful – the poshest place I’d ever stayed. It was bound to be ridiculously expensive. The capable, efficient Mary Black would never waste money and leave it empty.
I pulled out of his arms and glanced both ways along the walkway. It was relatively quiet – a few pedestrians, but no cyclists to get in the way.
‘Hold this,’ I said, shoving my handbag at Ethan.
‘I don’t think it matches my outfit …’
I gave him a final kiss and stepped away.
‘Mary …’
I stretched up my arms. I had no idea whether I could still do this, but I was determined to try. I leaned to the side, propelled myself over and performed three perfect cartwheels. The world rushed past my eyes, a dizzying display of light and colour, mesmerising in its beauty.
I looked back at Ethan. Manhattan lay behind him, and my past life with it.
‘What are you waiting for?’ I called.
‘I’m not waiting anymore,’ he said, and taking my hand, he led me home to Brooklyn.
Acknowledgments
Huge thanks to all the team at Avon for such a warm and enthusiastic welcome and for giving me an opportunity I never expected to have. Special thanks to Katie Loughnane and Bella Bosworth for brilliant and insightful editing, and to Katie again for providing enough compliments to satisfy even this needy writer, and for loving Mary Black as much as I do.
This book was my special, secret project for a long time and I would never have had the courage to send it out without the support and encouragement of the Beta Buddies. This writing life wouldn’t be half as much fun without them.
Thanks to Catherine for finding the perfect name for Clark; to Julie Stock, Jen Gilroy, Susanna Bavin and the Authors on the Edge for wonderful friendship and support; and to Suzannah Shaw for being a great friend and a great customer!
If you’ve enjoyed reading The Man I Fell in Love With, please consider leaving a review online to help other readers find the book. I’d love to know what you think about Mary and the decisions she makes: you can contact me on Twitter @katehaswords or through my Facebook page KateFieldAuthor.
About the Author
Kate Field writes contemporary women’s fiction, mainly set in her favourite county of Lancashire where she lives on the edge of the moors with her husband, daughter and cat. Her debut novel won the Romantic Novelists’ Association Joan Hessayon Award for new writers.
When not writing or reading, K
ate enjoys walking in the Lancashire countryside, Pilates, visiting historic houses and gardens, and volunteering in her village community library.
About the Publisher
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