Then. Now. Always.

by Isabelle Broom

  I open my mouth to start saying something smart back, but she’s already hung up and I’m answered by the silence of a dead line. Without really thinking, I immediately locate Tom’s number and press call, drumming my fingers against the wall of the gift shop as I wait for him to answer.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘It’s Hannah.’

  ‘I guessed that much when your name flashed up on my phone,’ he jokes, but I’m not in the mood for laughing.

  ‘I suppose you were expecting it to be Rachel, given how tight the two of you have become,’ I retort acidly.

  ‘Oh,’ is Tom’s response. ‘She told you her news, then?’

  ‘Her happy news? Oh yes. I’m thrilled, as I’m sure you know. She said the two of you have been talking almost every day,’ I tell him, my voice sounding high.

  ‘Not every day,’ he argues.

  ‘And talking about me!’ I add, kicking the wall for good measure.

  Now it’s Tom’s turn to sigh. I’m sick of people sighing at me, like I’m some sort of nuisance.

  ‘Where are you?’ he asks.

  ‘Why?’ I bark, my bad mood making me reluctant to tell him anything he wants to know.

  ‘I’ll come and meet you, so we can talk properly.’

  I pause as Elaine’s story floods back over me, and I think how nice it would be to sit down with Tom and tell him about it, get his advice on how best to handle it and what I can do to help my new friend, but my stupid pride is still sitting with its huge size-nine boot firmly wedged in the way.

  ‘I don’t want to talk,’ I tell him grumpily, and he braves a small laugh.

  ‘Then why did you call me?’

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ I rage, realising as I turn around that the rain has stopped at last. The apartment is only ten minutes’ walk up the hill, but the thought of being in there is becoming less alluring by the second. I can’t face being cooped up, not while I’m in this mood, not while there’s so much to process.

  ‘Go back to yours,’ Tom instructs gently. ‘I’ll meet you there in a bit and we’ll talk it out, okay?’

  ‘Fine,’ I snap, then end the call before he has time to reply.

  What Tom doesn’t know, however, is that I have absolutely no intention of going back to the apartment. What I need now is a sympathetic ear, a strong drink and the opportunity to forget everything that’s happened over the past few hours – and I know just the place I can get the whole package.

  33

  There’s no sound coming from inside the villa when I reach the blue front door, but I barely hesitate before I begin hammering on it. When Theo eventually opens it with an aggravated jerk, the look of annoyance on his face almost makes me run away.

  ‘Hannah!’ he says at once, pulling me in through the gap. ‘What is the matter? You scared me with the banging.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I mumble, my heart crashing against my chest. Once I decided that I was coming here, I practically ran down the hill and along the beach, which was pretty treacherous given all the rapidly evaporating puddles. The rain has done little to dim the soaring temperature, and the sun is now merrily causing steam to rise off from every visible surface.

  ‘You are soaked,’ he declares, looking me up and down. He doesn’t rush off to fetch me a towel like Elaine did, though. Instead he just stands in front of me, one of his hands on each of my wrists, staring at me like I’m a curious object he just dug up on the beach.

  ‘Sorry for startling you,’ I mumble, embarrassed now as I always seem to be whenever he fixes me with one of his stares.

  ‘I am glad you are here,’ he says, relaxing his grip a notch. ‘I was going to message you and ask you to come.’

  He was? Relief courses through me.

  ‘We need to have a talk, I think,’ he says then, but I shake my head and he gazes at me, surprised.

  ‘No?’

  ‘Can we just …?’ I begin, faltering when he doesn’t immediately understand what I’m getting at.

  ‘Something is the matter,’ he guesses, lifting my chin with a finger as soon as I drop my eyes.

  So many things are the matter, I think. One of my best friends thinks I’m a bitch, and the other is infatuated with my sister, who in turn is acting like a mad person. Then there’s the small matter of Elaine’s confession, not to mention the tumble of confused feelings I have for Theo himself. I don’t want to talk about any of it, though – what I want is to forget.

  ‘Hannah,’ he says again, and I take a step closer to him. I don’t know how to tell him what I want, so I let the need I’m feeling take over, and bend forwards to kiss his neck. At first he doesn’t move, but when my lips reach the underside of his jaw and I let the tip of my tongue tickle the rough of his stubble, I hear his breath start to quicken.

  ‘Is this what you want?’ he murmurs, pushing himself against me so I can feel how aroused he is.

  ‘Yes,’ I whisper, kissing the lobe of his ear and the soft, warm groove just beneath it.

  The next second, we’re pulling at each other’s clothes, mine far trickier to remove than his because they’re still so wet. Theo guides me over to the sofa and turns me around, but for the first time ever I push back against his hands. I want him to look at me this time, and I make that point clear as he tries and fails to bend me over. He looks almost angry, so I take his hand and start to kiss his fingers one by one, walking towards the bedroom door as I do so, urging him to follow me.

  ‘You want to play games,’ he states, and I feel a thrill trickle through me. I wish he would laugh with me, or cup my face in his hands and kiss me gently and with care. That’s not Theo’s style, though – especially not today – and it’s only a matter of minutes later that we’re entwined on the top of his sheets, his hands pulling at my damp hair as he kisses his way roughly down across my chest and stomach. I keep waiting for the jumble of emotions I’m feeling to be washed away by what he’s doing to me, but instead they just seem to swell in my mind with renewed clarity.

  I close my eyes and try to concentrate on the sensation of Theo’s tongue against my inner thigh, of his teeth as he nibbles at me, but all I actually feel is discomfort, and reflexively I squirm away from him.

  ‘Oh no you don’t,’ he growls playfully, clamping his hands across my bare bottom and squeezing the flesh between his fingers. I can feel how much he wants me now – hell, I can see how much – but it doesn’t offer me the comfort I’m craving. I wriggle out of his grasp again and try to coax him down on to the bed next to me so I can kiss him. What I want to feel is cherished, not desired. I want him to hold me like a fragile little bird, not manhandle me like a bolting ox. Theo goes along with my tentative kisses for a few minutes, but his hands are still roaming all over me, prodding and pinching until eventually I can’t take it any more and stop him by sitting up.

  Misinterpreting what I’m doing, Theo props himself up on one knee and angles himself by my mouth, but I can’t. Just like that, I simply cannot do it.

  ‘Sorry,’ I mumble, turning my face away until he kneels back down beside me. His eyes look black with lust and there’s a sheen of sweat across his face.

  ‘What is the matter?’ he asks, trailing a single finger over my exposed breasts then abruptly removing it when he sees me shift uncomfortably away.

  ‘How does Claudette know about the almonds and Manchego?’ I ask breathlessly. I knew the question was at the forefront of my brain, but I never imagined that I’d have the guts to actually come out with it.

  Theo frowns for a moment before answering.

  ‘Because I told her,’ he replies, letting each word out slowly and deliberately.

  ‘When?’ I want to know, but Theo gives me an exaggerated shrug.

  ‘I don’t know, Hannah – maybe last year, maybe before then? Why does it matter?’

  His Greek accent has become more pronounced now that he’s pissed off with the line of questioning, and in any other circumstance I would probably find it amusing. In this case, however,
it simply aggravates me that he’s not taking my queries seriously.

  ‘Have you and Claudette ever slept together?’ I demand, flushing crimson at my own daring.

  Theo sits down then and pulls the sheet over the lower half of his body with an irritated mutter of indecipherable Greek.

  ‘Of course.’

  Whatever I was expecting him to say, it wasn’t that, and I roughly wipe away indignant tears.

  ‘What is the matter?’ he demands, glaring at me from beneath his stupid sheet. ‘You ask a question that you are not ready to hear the answer to, then don’t blame me for telling the truth.’

  This cannot be happening.

  ‘When?’

  I’ve instinctively bent my knees so they’re facing away from him, and now I cross my arms across my chest to hide my nudity.

  Theo looks exasperated and not a little angry, and for a moment I think he might get up and storm out. Then again, we’re in his bed, in his own villa. I’ve got him cornered, so to speak, and after staring at the doorway for a few beats, presumably contemplating an escape, he turns again to face me, his expression challenging.

  ‘The first time, or the most recent time?’

  ‘Both,’ I say calmly, ignoring the actual physical pain that his words have just caused me to feel.

  Infuriatingly, he shrugs again, as if this information is the most blasé piece of news he’s ever imparted.

  ‘The first time was three years ago, not long after Claudette worked with me on the film we did in Vancouver,’ he says. ‘The last time was at Christmas, after the office party.’

  Gross, I think. What a bloody cliché.

  ‘What about the other night?’ I want to know, but my voice has lost some of its edge, and I now sound more defeated than defiant.

  ‘The other night, nothing,’ he states, and I do believe him. After all, there’s no reason for him to lie about that when he’s been so brutally honest about everything else.

  ‘You should have told me,’ I whisper, too scared to look at him but too caught up in the moment not to let the words out. I know this is the last chance I’ll get to talk to him like this. After what I’ve done today, there won’t be any going back.

  ‘Hannah, Hannah, Hannah,’ he says, his tone now conciliatory. ‘Why did you ask me these things? I would never lie to you, but you should have trusted me. There is no reason for anyone to know about Claudette except for me and for her.’

  ‘I think Tom has guessed,’ I mumble in response, knowing as I say it that he must have. He tried to warn me off Theo, after all. Come to think of it, so did Claudette.

  ‘Perhaps.’ He shrugs, obviously not bothered either way.

  The tears that I’ve been trying my best not to unleash are now making a determined bid for freedom, and Theo notices them, too, reaching around to the bedside table for a tissue.

  ‘Don’t be so silly,’ he croons. ‘I am not with Claudette now.’

  ‘But you have been,’ I point out. ‘Don’t you see – that changes everything?’

  ‘Why?’ he asks, and I dare myself to look at him.

  ‘Because it’s just too complicated,’ I tell him. ‘And it makes me feel as if I was second choice.’

  Theo places a hand on my bare shoulder, squeezes it gently.

  ‘You must understand, Hannah,’ he begins. ‘Until we came here to Mojácar, I did not really know you. Of course we would talk sometimes, and I knew that you were good at your job, reliable and smart.’

  He did? I look up, mollified slightly.

  ‘But I did not know the real you – the Hannah that has come alive before my eyes in this place. She is fearless and funny and warm.’

  ‘I’m not fearless,’ I argue. ‘I’m scared of everything – especially you.’

  Theo takes back his hand.

  ‘You are not scared of me,’ he says. ‘What scares you is who you are with me. I have seen the change in you. When we came out to Mojácar, you were a girl, but now you are a woman. You are relaxed and happy – you hold up your head high.’

  ‘Do I?’ I’m now more intrigued than upset, and also astounded that Theo has been paying so much close attention to me. And I suppose he’s right, in a way – I do feel different here, more focused and grown up. Mojácar has enchanted me again, as it did all those years ago when it shaped me into the person I am now, and softened my heart. Being here has made me question how I feel about my father and about Nancy, and made me realise what it is I want from my life. All this time I thought it was just Theo, but now I’m beginning to realise that the whole concept of myself and him is a fantasy. Just as I used to daydream about Diego, a man I knew deep down that I could never be with, so I have created this make-believe relationship with Theo. No wonder I’ve been feeling so jittery over the past few weeks; it’s because my fantasy became a reality, and for the first time in my adult life, my heart was in serious danger of getting broken. Fantasies are safe, I see that now. Reality is very different.

  ‘Hannah, can I tell you something?’ Theo says, stirring me out of my train of thought and arranging the sheet so that it’s covering both of us.

  I nod.

  ‘Do you remember what I told you before, about the girl that I loved?’

  ‘Yes,’ I croak.

  ‘I met her when I was thirty-two,’ he says. ‘And for a time, I was the happiest I had ever been. She was the first girl I had ever been myself with, you understand? And together we travelled around the world. It was she who inspired me to start my business, so I could tell the hidden stories of these places we had explored.’

  ‘What happened to her?’ I ask, the softness of my voice reflecting the calmness I feel inside.

  ‘I broke her heart,’ he says simply, staring past me out towards the beach. I know the view so well that I can imagine what he’s gazing at without having to turn my head. I want to ask him why, but I can tell that he’s struggling with what to say next.

  ‘I was a malaka,’ he says then, attempting a smile. ‘An idiot. I mistook our closeness for simple friendship, believed that our intimacy and the easiness I felt around her had killed our passion. There were moments where I felt like I loved her, but then others when I thought she was wrong, that we were wrong. But, of course, I was the one who was wrong.’

  ‘You poor thing,’ I say, groping for his hand, but Theo moves it away and runs his fingers through his dark curls.

  ‘I am not the one who deserves sympathy,’ he sighs. ‘I broke her heart and my punishment has been to never get over it. I cannot forgive myself, and so now my heart is closed to anyone but her. I have tried to move on, but I cannot forget her.’

  ‘Why don’t you find her?’ I ask, his stricken expression enough to make me forget myself for a moment. ‘Tell her how you feel.’

  ‘It is too late.’ He turns to me, his eyes heavy with regret. ‘She is happy now, and it is not my place.’

  Theo may be older than me, he may have more experience and more sophistication, but he’s just as lost as I am. Just as I have let fear steer me down a safe path all my life, so he has allowed heartbreak to direct his own. I may be terrified of rejection, but Theo’s scared of being the one who rejects. Despite everything that’s happened, all I honestly feel in this moment is pity. Not just for Theo, but for both of us.

  ‘I am sorry,’ he says then, taking my hand and lacing his fingers through mine. ‘I should have told you in the beginning that I could not offer you anything serious. I assumed that you were thinking the same thing as me.’

  ‘I thought …’ I begin, hesitating as I ponder how to put what I’m feeling into words.

  ‘You thought more?’ he probes softly, and all I can do is look at him. How can I admit that I didn’t think at all? That I never planned past the point of that first kiss, because I didn’t think I would ever achieve it. I had convinced myself that I was in love with a man who I barely even knew outside of work, but I never stopped to question what love really is. If I had, I would have realised long
ago that Theo and I were never going to amount to anything.

  ‘You are a very special girl, Hannah,’ Theo says, increasing the pressure on my hand. ‘You deserve better than anything I could offer.’

  ‘But I don’t know what I want,’ I reply, exasperated with myself.

  ‘That is okay.’ Theo uses a finger to lift my chin. ‘You don’t have to know yet. There is so much time. You are still young, and there is a whole world out there.’

  There’s a beautiful logic to his words, and now that he’s being so nice to me, I find that I’m no longer even upset about the Claudette situation. Theo isn’t rejecting me so much as letting me go, and it’s obvious to me now that we never had a future past these few glorious weeks. And that’s okay – it really is.

  ‘I thought I was in love with you,’ I say honestly, looking down at my lap rather than at him. ‘You are all I wanted for as long as I can remember.’

  ‘Me?’ Theo sounds genuinely surprised.

  ‘Of course,’ I reply, braving a smile. ‘I thought you knew.’

  He laughs at this, grateful to have the tension fall away a fraction, and shakes his head in bewilderment.

  ‘I definitely did not know,’ he assures me. ‘But I am flattered, of course. And I am glad that this happened, because now we are friends – real friends.’

  I smile against his chest as he hugs me, acutely aware that the two of us are still naked beneath the sheet. Whatever I hoped to achieve by coming here to see Theo, I would never have guessed that this would be the outcome, but now that everything is out in the open, it feels as if I can breathe properly again. Finding out that Theo had indeed, as I suspected, slept with Claudette has been my greatest fear over the past few days, and now that it’s happened and I’ve survived – well, better than that, I feel relieved – I can take my foot off the emotion throttle at last.

  Theo must sense the shift in my mood, because he lets go of me and brings his fingers up to my cheek, turning my face towards his and kissing me lightly on the lips. It’s the kiss I’ve been waiting for him to give me since I first laid eyes on him, and for a few delicious seconds I give in to what I’m feeling and simply allow myself to be in the moment, enjoying the taste and feel of him, relishing the tenderness and revelling in the whispers of pleasure that are creeping through my insides.