Someone Like You: Escape with this perfect uplifting romance

by Tracy Corbett

  They fell into step.

  He glanced at her, trying to assess whether his plan was working.

  It wasn’t going great so far. She looked tense – conflicted and tentative. She also looked cute in her summer outfit. But the way she kept drawing in deep breaths made it seem like she was at least trying to relax. Maybe there was hope yet?

  ‘How are the festival plans going?’ she asked.

  At last, conversation.

  ‘Okay, I think. I won’t know until Thursday when the contractors arrive and set up the activities. Friday will be a tricky day ahead of the roads being closed. We may have to copy how the military does it, and rehearse the main parade at four in the morning.’

  She half-smiled. ‘Megan will love that.’

  ‘Isaac too.’

  ‘Luvvies, huh?’ Then she started laughing.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘I was just thinking they might say the same about us.’

  ‘I suppose we have had our fair share of tantrums.’

  She smiled. ‘A right couple of divas.’

  They reached the jetty and he arranged for a couple of hours’ hire. Probably wishful thinking on his part, but it was a final attempt to convince her they should be together. If he failed, at least he could walk away knowing he’d tried his best.

  Having paid the owner, Will went over to one of the blue wooden boats and stepped in. ‘Mind your step,’ he said, offering Lily his hand.

  She accepted his offer and climbed in. ‘Thanks.’

  The boat rocked as they sat down, making them both laugh nervously, neither one wanting to end up in the water.

  He picked up the oars. Unlike when they’d gone kayaking in the Caribbean, they were facing each other, their knees almost touching.

  Time to put his plan into action. ‘Ready?’

  She gripped the sides of the boat. ‘As I’ll ever be.’

  He began to row, awkward at first as they moved away from the jetty, trying to find space with less traffic.

  The river was busy. Several large motorboats were moored along the sides. Canoes sped past, the occupants in competition training kits, making it look easy. In amongst the boats were pristine-white swans and noisy ducks, taking off and landing, creating splashes in the water.

  Lily sat rigidly, her bag tucked behind her, her expression tentative. ‘No shipwrecks here, I’m guessing?’

  ‘None that I know of.’ He pulled on the oars. ‘Although I imagine there’s a few sunken treasures below.’

  ‘Discarded toasters and bicycles, you mean?’

  ‘There might be the odd casket of stolen gold lying somewhere.’

  ‘More likely, a few dead bodies.’ She held onto her hat when the breeze threatened to dislodge it.

  ‘Dead bodies?’

  ‘There’s bound to be a few,’ she said, glancing over the side. ‘Victims of the Royal Windsor Mafia.’

  He continued rowing. ‘I can’t imagine Windsor having a mafia.’

  ‘You’d be surprised. Posh people are way more sinister than poor people.’

  ‘How do you figure that?’

  ‘Lord Lucan was from a titled family.’

  ‘Well, the Krays weren’t. They definitely weren’t posh.’

  ‘True.’ She shrugged. ‘They were from my neck of the woods. Just a few miles down the road.’

  ‘Really? Was crime a problem where you grew up?’

  ‘In Haringey?’ She shook her head. ‘Not really. The usual stuff, nothing notorious or newsworthy. You?’

  ‘House break-ins, mostly. I think someone stole a horse once.’

  She smiled. ‘Like a racehorse?’

  ‘No, a regular horse. The thief used it as getaway transport.’

  She burst out laughing. ‘That’s so posh. See? I rest my case.’ She shook her head. ‘So where did you grow up?’

  ‘Chobham. A small village in Surrey.’

  ‘Ah, rural country. Well, we Londoners are made from tougher stuff.’ She squealed when the boat rocked. ‘Most of the time.’

  It was his turn to laugh.

  He continued rowing down the river, smiling, despite the ache in his shoulders. He didn’t care. At some point over the last week, any remaining doubt he’d had about wanting another relationship had vanished. Despite the arguing and disagreements, the misunderstandings and strains of working together, he’d felt more alive and invigorated than he’d done in the past eight years.

  He was finally ready to make that leap. To venture into the world of being in a relationship. Now all he had to do was convince Lily.

  A gondola sailed past, it’s eight-man crew dressed in straw boaters and striped blue tops. They were singing, waving at the other boaters as they passed by.

  Lily waved back. ‘That’s not something you see every day.’

  ‘Eton boys, probably. Eccentric lot.’

  She twisted her body, watching them sail away down the river. ‘Fancy having to wear top hats and tails to classes.’

  ‘What were you like at school?’

  ‘Me?’ She tilted her head. ‘Nondescript, I guess. Quiet. Well-behaved. Punctual.’

  ‘The model student.’

  ‘C grades, remember?’ She smiled and took a long breath, seeming to relax another notch as she turned her face up to the sun. ‘What about you? What were your school days like? Probably captain of the sports team, and voted most likely to succeed, I imagine.’

  ‘Not even close. Regular detentions, lazy at revision, and outshone by my very-clever-and-annoying-teacher’s-pet sister.’

  She smiled. ‘Jealousy is not an attractive quality.’

  ‘Neither is gloating over better exam results.’

  ‘I sense tension between you and your sister.’

  ‘Very astute.’

  She studied him. ‘Let me guess? The transition from annoying younger brother to being her boss hasn’t resulted in a harmonious working relationship?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Then why work together?’

  Good question. ‘It’s not that we don’t get on. We do. And she’s amazing at what she does. I haven’t got a clue about quarterly accounts or fiscal percentages.’

  He thought back to their childhood and their numerous squabbles. Maybe they wouldn’t have ended up working together if Sara hadn’t died. That was the thing about death. It shifted things. Changed the dynamics. Altered life’s journey.

  And not just for those directly affected. Some relationships were destroyed by it, others strengthened. Their joint couple friends had drifted away, feeling too uncomfortable to deal with the awkwardness of Will’s grief. But his sister had been his rock. She’d stepped up to the plate and kept him sane. He’d be forever grateful. And indebted… which is probably what caused the tension.

  ‘I guess we’re just pre-programmed to fight,’ he said, slowing his stroke rhythm. ‘Can’t be together, can’t be apart.’ His arms were feeling the strain. He let the boat float towards a secluded inlet. ‘Aren’t you like that with your siblings?’

  ‘Don’t have any.’

  He brushed away the trailing weeping willows as the boat disappeared under the trees. ‘What about your parents?’

  ‘Don’t have any of those, either.’ She said it in such a matter-of-fact way, he almost didn’t register her words.

  ‘You don’t have any parents?’

  ‘Nope. Dad left soon after I was born. Mum died when I was four.’

  ‘Shit.’ He had to duck under a branch.

  Why hadn’t he known this? But then, why should he? They’d never discussed their personal lives on holiday – something he’d been extremely grateful for at the time. He was now realising how little he actually knew about her.

  Lily removed her sunhat and fanned her face. ‘I was brought up by my grandparents.’

  ‘That’s a blow. Sorry.’

  ‘’Tis what it is.’ She trailed her fingers in the water. ‘Fortunately, my grandparents were lovely people.’r />
  ‘I remember you saying you cared for them.’

  ‘My grandma died a while back, but I looked after my granddad for more than ten years. He died last December.’

  He pulled the oars into the boat, letting the boat rest against the bank. ‘That must’ve been hard, trying to build your career and care for someone at the same time?’

  As he knew only too well. It was bloody exhausting. And he’d had help. His family had rallied to his aid. He couldn’t have done it without them. He certainly couldn’t imagine doing it alone.

  She looked away. ‘You could say that.’

  ‘Do you have any other family?’

  ‘Nope. Just me.’ She didn’t sound upset, just resigned.

  She pummelled her bag into a cushion and lay back, resting her head on it. ‘This is nice,’ she said, closing her eyes. ‘You were right, boating is very relaxing.’

  For a moment, all he could do was watch her. The dappled sunlight flickered across her face. Her breathing slowed and she was the picture of tranquillity. ‘I feel bad now for moaning about my sister.’

  ‘You weren’t to know. And fighting with your siblings is normal.’ She opened one eye. ‘At least, so I’m told.’

  ‘So you had a good relationship with your grandparents?’

  ‘The best. I was very lucky.’

  She didn’t sound lucky. She sounded like she’d had an awful upbringing. If he’d been her, he would’ve felt highly aggrieved at the unfairness of it all. ‘Don’t you feel angry?’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For… I don’t know, being cheated out of the life you should’ve had.’

  She shifted position. ‘Who’s to say life with my mum would’ve been any better? It might’ve been harder. More challenging. Less fun. Maybe I would’ve been happier with her, maybe not.’ She shrugged. ‘All I know is that I was loved and cared for. My grandparents did everything in their power to give me a stable and fulfilling life. They never punished me. Never put pressure on me to do better at school. And they always supported and encouraged me to do the things that made me happy. That’s more than a lot of people have.’

  She made a good point. ‘I feel suitably chastised.’

  Lily wriggled onto her elbows. ‘Why? There’s no need to be. I’m just saying that life is a series of crossroads. No one knows how taking a different route will have turned out. You can only follow the road you’ve taken… or been shoved down, in my case,’ she said, shrugging. ‘No one intentionally chooses an unhappy path in life. But sometimes you just have to make the best of the situation you find yourself in.’

  Is that what he’d done? Made the best of a crappy situation? Or had he spent the last eight years dwelling on how unlucky he’d been and focusing on what he’d lost, rather than what he had to be grateful for? Like having Poppy in his life.

  Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure.

  She tilted her head. ‘Your turn. Parents?’

  Right. His turn. ‘Diane and Bobby, retired school teacher and police chief, respectively.’

  ‘Do you get on with them?’

  ‘I do. We’re a close-knit family.’

  She smiled. ‘That’s nice. Any other siblings?’

  ‘No, just Gemma.’

  She reached out to touch a trailing willow branch. ‘What about love? I know you’ve never been married, you said so the other night.’

  He flinched. What he’d actually said was, he didn’t have an ex-wife. Not that he’d never been married. There was a difference. But before he could correct her, she said, ‘Kids?’ And he was hit by another wave of guilt for not mentioning Poppy earlier.

  Sure, he had his reasons. And they were justified. He didn’t have to apologise for not divulging everything about his personal life sooner. But however much he could defend his previous behaviour, now was the opportune moment to confess all.

  But before he could open his mouth, she said, ‘Forget that. Silly question,’ and started laughing. ‘Of course you don’t have kids. Not the commitment type, right?’ She raised herself onto her elbows, smiling. ‘Although you did tell me you once had a serious relationship. It ended… what… eight years ago? So what happened? Or am I being too intrusive?’

  He’d been gifted a second opportunity to reveal the truth. It should be easy enough to say the words. They weren’t hard. All he had to do was take a deep breath, clear his throat, and admit that, actually… he had been married and he did have a daughter, but his wife had died… But somehow, he couldn’t get his mouth to work. The words just rolled around his brain, trying to escape, but failed to form themselves into a sentence.

  Lily raised her hand. ‘You’re right, none of my business. We’re supposed to be chilling, right? No heavy topics, just fun and relaxation.’ She let her head drop back.

  Oh, crap. He was losing the moment.

  Speak, you idiot. Tell her the truth. You can’t expect the woman to agree to a relationship with you if she doesn’t know about Sara and Poppy.

  But the words wouldn’t come.

  Why?

  Good question.

  Was he scared she might not want him? Or ask too many awkward questions?

  Probably.

  Was he worried he might not be able to hold it together when talking about his past and would dissolve in a puddle of tears?

  Most certainly.

  He’d never been a fan of public outpourings. He preferred to keep his anguish hidden. But there was no bypassing the situation. He couldn’t expect to say silent on the subject. She deserved to know the truth. He owed her that much. And if Poppy had found the courage to act in her school play, then the least her dad could do was act like a grown man for once.

  He needed to admit that he’d omitted sections of his life and reveal his true self. The unedited version. The real Will Taylor. He cleared his throat. ‘So, the thing is—’

  A bird flew out of the tree above and startled Lily.

  She jolted, sending the boat into a rock and drifting away from the bank, dislodging one of the oars.

  ‘Oh, crikey,’ she yelped, trying to stand up, making the boat even more unstable. ‘Grab the oar!’ She was giggling, stumbling about, losing her balance.

  ‘Stop moving,’ he said, laughing at her attempts to rescue the oar.

  Old Lily was back. Smiling, uninhibited, uncoordinated… and about to fall into the water if she didn’t stop moving.

  ‘Take my hand,’ he said, trying to steady himself.

  But she was too off balance. She stumbled backwards, caught her foot on the remaining oar and disappeared off the back off the boat.

  Shit.

  She landed with an almighty splash in the Thames.

  His first instinct was to laugh. But then he remembered she wasn’t a strong swimmer. He dropped to his knees, searching for her in the water. ‘Lily…? Lily?’

  Why hadn’t she resurfaced?

  He searched each side of the boat. No sign of her. Where was she?

  He kicked off his trainers, ripped off his T-shirt and jumped into the water. It was cold, murky and filled with algae. The dense foliage under the water caught in his legs, entangling in his arms and feet as he searched for her.

  His knee hit something solid. He ducked under the water, trying to see, but it was too cloudy. And then a flash of white. He grabbed at her dress, tugging on it, kicking his way to the surface.

  She weighed a ton. Why wasn’t she helping? Because she couldn’t, he realised. She was out cold.

  Christ, was she dead?

  He dragged her to the bank, taking what felt like an age to push her from the water onto the grassy bank.

  His limbs felt like lead. His lungs couldn’t take in enough air. He’d lost all his strength. Only sheer willpower and determination pushed him on, as he dragged her from the water and pulled her to safety.

  And that’s when he saw the blood.

  Lots of it.

  Covering his hands, her dress, gushing from her head.

  She’
d hit her head.

  She had a head injury.

  She’d hit her head.

  Images filled his brain. Flashes from his past.

  He was gripped by a pain so acute he wanted to scream.

  Not again. Please, not again.

  ‘Help me!’ he yelled, hoping someone would hear.

  He was paralysed. Stunned into a panic and too traumatised to act.

  He forced himself to think.

  Breathing. Was she breathing?

  He lowered his face to her chest, looking for signs of life. He had no idea whether she was breathing or not.

  ‘Lily…? Lily! Can you hear me?’ He rolled her onto her side, rubbing her back, willing her to answer him.

  A man on a pushbike stopped on the path above. ‘You all right, mate?’

  ‘I need help! An ambulance. She’s hit her head. She’s unconscious. I don’t know if she’s breathing.’

  The man jumped off the bike. ‘I’ll call 999.’

  ‘Please hurry.’ Will rubbed her back harder. ‘Come on, Lily! Breathe, for Christ’s sake.’

  And just then she began coughing, retching up water, spluttering as she tried to catch her breath.

  ‘It’s okay… you’re okay,’ he assured her, stroking her hair, his hands covered in blood. ‘You’ll be okay.’ Please be okay.

  Will was shaking, sobbing like a baby and unable to comfort her. A useless specimen of a human being. He felt even more redundant when a couple appeared on the pathway by the man on the bike and rushed over.

  ‘I’m a paramedic,’ the woman said, dropping to her knees. ‘Let me see her. What’s her name?’

  ‘Lily,’ he managed to say, before he staggered away and threw up everywhere.

  He left the woman to deal with her. He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t lose someone else he loved.

  Why did he think he was ready for a relationship?

  Love hurt.

  It led to loss. Pain. Endless grief.

  He couldn’t deal with that again. Not now. Not ever.

  He threw up again.

  And then he passed out.

  Chapter Twenty

  Friday, 30 July

  Lily was already feeling warm, despite the early hour. Her cream linen dress was helping to keep the heat at bay, but she knew it wouldn’t last for long. The sun was slowly burning through the early morning mist, building up to be another scorcher. The sky was a powder blue, sprinkled with wispy clouds, taking their time to disperse, with no breeze to move them on.