éclairs. My favourite cake. Had he remembered? Of course he had. This couldn’t possibly be
a coincidence. Warmth spread through me, from within, not just from the sun that was beating
down on my legs. What was going on here? Was there more to this outing than I’d thought?
‘Two éclairs?’ I said. ‘Isn’t that greedy?’
‘I was kinda hoping you might want to join me …’
It was a perfectly innocent comment, but something about his smile, the twinkle in his
brown eyes, brought Paris rushing straight back into my head. Not just my head. My whole
body burned with the memory of it, of what Paddy had done to me, what we had done together,
what he had made me feel. I turned my attention to a tortilla wrap.
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‘Did Caitlyn get back to Paris okay?’ Paddy asked, as we finished our drinks before
returning to the dig.
‘Yes. She’ll be there until Christmas now. Unless she chooses to stay with Luc over
Christmas.’ That was a thought I’d prefer not to dwell on. Paddy squeezed my arm.
‘He’s a good kid.’ He grinned. ‘Reminds me of me.’
‘Exactly! As if I needed any more reason to worry …’
‘I wasn’t that bad, was I?’ He bumped his shoulder against mine.
‘No,’ I admitted. ‘Not all the time.’
Only at the end, in fact – until then, I had thought he was perfect.
‘We were good together, weren’t we?’ he asked. I jumped down from the boot and
brushed the crumbs off my jeans.
‘I thought we weren’t talking about our past?’
‘I wasn’t. Not really. I was just establishing the groundwork. Like a construction
worker. I need to make sure the foundations are solid before building up.’
I froze. ‘Building up to what?’
‘The question I want to ask you.’
‘Spit it out then,’ I said, sudden nerves flaring inside me. I had no idea where this was
going. ‘We need to get digging again before the light goes.’
‘Jeez, can’t a man take his time about these things?’ Paddy laughed and jumped down
to stand beside me. ‘Spending time with you this summer has reminded me what a great team
we are. I think we could be a great team again.’
My breath caught. Did he mean …
‘So, what do you say? Will you come and work for me?’
‘You’re offering me a job?’ I hoped my voice was steadier than my pulse. After the
picnic, the way he’d looked at me, all the build-up, I’d thought … Well, never mind what I’d
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thought. I’d been wrong – spectacularly wrong – and I could only hope that my face wasn’t
displaying my feelings, because Paddy was watching me closely, waiting for his answer.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, testing out a smile that felt horribly like a grimace. ‘I can’t. I’ve
already accepted a job with Northern Archaeology. I start next month.’
‘Fantastic! They’re a great crew. Ah well, my loss.’ And with that, he strode away
across the field to return to his trench, while I stomped over to the new trench, trying not to
fixate on how little he must have wanted me if he could move on from my rejection so easily.
My frustration may have made me less careful with my trowel than usual, because I
hadn’t been working for long when I heard the unmistakeable scrape of metal against metal.
Brushing aside the soil with my hands, I soon uncovered a rusting black tin. I prised it out
carefully, placed it on the side of the trench, climbed out and called to Paddy.
‘Paddy! Come and look. I’ve found something.’
With infuriating slowness, he put down his tools and sauntered over. He looked down
at the tin.
‘You need to brush up on the Bronze Age,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I don’t think
that’s what we’re looking for. It’s probably not even a hundred years old.’
He started to walk away.
‘Hey!’ I shouted after him. ‘It could be important. Has this site been excavated before?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘Don’t you think we should open it?’
‘Sure. If you’re that bothered.’ He shrugged. ‘But don’t get your hopes up about finding
another Lancaster Hoard. It doesn’t look that promising …’
I knelt down in front of the tin. It wasn’t locked, but the catch was distorted and covered
in rust and I needed my trowel to gently prise it open. And there, inside …
I turned to Paddy. He was smiling at me, a smile of wary hope that melted my heart.
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‘What’s going on?’ I asked.
He knelt down beside me. ‘Have a look in the tin,’ he said.
The first item in the tin was an envelope with my name scrawled on it, in Paddy’s
handwriting. I picked it up and uncovered a square, velvet jewellery box, the sort of box that
was inevitably associated with one particular thing. Ignoring that for a moment, I opened the
envelope. There was a sheet of paper inside, covered with one of Paddy’s sketches – one I had
seen before. It was a duplicate of the drawing I had found inside the notebook in my rucksack:
a Viking warrior with Paddy’s face, kneeling down and offering his heart in his hands.
‘I’ve seen this before,’ I said. ‘I found it in my notebook a few months ago.’
‘Did you? You were meant to find it years ago. I had it all planned. The next time we
went on a dig together, you were supposed to see the sketch, and then I’d drop down to my
knees and give you this …’
He took the velvet ring box out of the tin and held it out to me. His hand shook but his
smile was steady. I took the box and opened it. Inside lay what I immediately recognised as a
Roman ring: chunky gold decorated with a garnet in the centre. I ran my finger over the ring;
it was beautiful.
‘You’ve kept this since then?’
‘I have. And now don’t go thinking I’m soppy or anything, but I took it with me on my
travels, and it felt like you were with me. And it became a sort of lucky talisman, so I’ve had
it with me on every dig I’ve been on. I could never have got rid of it, because it was yours.
Even when there seemed no prospect of ever seeing you again, it was always yours.’
Paddy took my hand.
‘It’s yours now, if you’ll have it. If you’ll have me. I know you value your
independence. I know you don’t need me.’ He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand.
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‘But I’m hoping you might want me. And hoping even more that you might love me, even a
fraction of how much I love you.’
He looked at me then, and it was as though I could see through his eyes and right down
to his heart. I’d doubted him many times, but I couldn’t doubt him now. He meant every word.
As if he’d read my thoughts, he carried on.
‘I screwed up before, but that was the idiot Paddy – the kid. I wouldn’t do that now.
And okay, maybe when I first saw you in March, I thought about Caitlyn, but it soon became
more than that. Much more. I didn’t find a daughter, but I found the partner I want with me for
the rest of my life. It’s all been about you, Eve. All my life, it was always you.’
<
br /> He leant forward, eyes on mine, moving in for a kiss. I leant back.
‘You set all this up? Today … this dig … this tin …’
‘Yeah, and I was kinda hoping for a better response than you recoiling …’
‘But what’s this?’ I pointed back at the tin. There was one other item inside it: an
envelope, with my name on it, written in what I would have sworn was Caitlyn’s writing. But
how could she be involved in this?
‘Open it and have a look.’ Paddy grinned.
I did. There were two more ‘Be Kind to Yourself’ vouchers inside, but this time, they
had already been completed.
BE KIND TO YOURSELF
VOUCHER THIRTEEN
I, Eve Roberts, have been kind to myself by forgiving Paddy!
I smiled, and read the next one.
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BE KIND TO YOURSELF
VOUCHER FOURTEEN
I, Eve Roberts, have been kind to myself by agreeing to be Eve Friel …
My heart did a little skip. Was I really going to agree to that? There was a folded note
in the envelope too, half a page of Caitlyn’s looping writing.
Dear Eve
That sounds weird, but it’s time, right? I know I said always mum, but I’ve been thinking
about that a lot, and I was saying it for me, not you. You did an amazing thing for me,
and you’ve been the best mum I could have asked for. But I think I have to let you go
now – so you can be Eve, and perhaps a wife (if Paddy is persuasive enough!) and
maybe, one day, someone else’s mum. You’re brave enough, and talented enough, and
loved enough to do this – and not just by me now. You deserve it – no argument. Love
you!
Your adoring niece,
Caitlyn
Paddy took me in his arms, and I sobbed on his shoulder. If I needed any more proof of
a life well spent, it was there in that note. Daughter, niece – it didn’t matter. It would be
impossible to love Caitlyn more.
‘Did you plot this with her?’ I asked, when my tears subsided. I lifted my head from
Paddy’s shoulder, but his arms stayed round me. ‘And did you speak to Mum too? I thought it
was weird when she started talking about you.’
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‘Now I don’t like the word plot …’ He smiled. ‘I wanted to apologise to Caitlyn, for
running out on you both. I didn’t mention any of the father stuff. But if there was going to be
a chance of anything between you and me, I couldn’t let there be any secrets or pretence.’
‘And she really forgave you?’
‘Of course she did. Don’t underestimate the old Irish charm,’ he said, putting on his
thickest Irish accent. I laughed, and he tightened his arms. His hands ran circles across my
back, circles that seemed to join my memories of the past with my hopes for the future. ‘And I
hope you’ll forgive me too.’
‘It appears that I already have done. Voucher thirteen says so.’ And I wasn’t going to
argue with it. Being here in his arms, I was as happy as I could ever wish to be. I loved him.
That was all that mattered. He wasn’t perfect, but neither was I. Like the unguentarium he had
bought me for my birthday, our flaws made us what we were now; made us perfect for each
other now. What was the point of holding on to grudges, or of dwelling on the rights and wrongs
of the past, when each day might be all we had? And what kinder thing could I do for myself
than let myself be happy? I wrote out another voucher in my head, one just for me.
BE KIND TO YOURSELF
VOUCHER FIFTEEN
I, Eve Roberts, have been kind to myself by choosing happiness!
‘I suppose I should be glad that you didn’t involve Gran in your plotting,’ I said. ‘But
she would never have been able to keep your secret.’
‘Ah, you underestimate the power of Phyllis …’ Paddy withdrew one of his hands, and
pulled something from the pocket of his jeans. ‘This has all been proper and above board. I
asked permission from the head of the family.’ He grinned. ‘If she’d had her way, she’d have
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been sitting over there watching, ready to prod you with her stick until you gave the right
answer. It took even more of the Irish charm to convince her to make do with a note.’
He handed me another envelope. This one contained a page ripped from a magazine,
showing an elaborate wedding outfit in fuchsia pink, with matching wide-brimmed hat. Gran
had scribbled on a Post-it Note stuck to the page.
You can have my blessing gladly, if he buys me this outfit. He’s been on the telly – he
can afford it. How about a Christmas wedding? We’ve all been waiting long enough.
He’s your gold. I could have told you that.
Laughing, I showed Paddy the note. He roared with laughter, and the vibrations of his
body echoed deliciously through mine.
‘I’ll drive her to the shops myself,’ he said. He pulled me to my feet, and looked down
at me with so much tenderness that I was irresistibly drawn towards him, leaning in to his chest.
It was my favourite place to be; it always had been; it always would be. ‘So it all depends on
you. Will you say yes, and make Phyllis the happiest grandmother in the world?’
It was the easiest question I’d ever been asked.
‘I will.’
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A Dozen Second Chances (ARC) Page 34
