The Runaway Year

by Shani Struthers

  “No,” she replied crossly. “I’ve told you, I’m not doing that. Not yet. If you’re really itching for something to do, go and have a shower—a cold one, I think by the looks of it, and then you can pack what little you’ve brought with you. After that, it’s time to leave.”

  “Layla,” he said imploringly.

  “Alex,” she replied sternly.

  “But you will speak to Jack, won’t you? Call him if he doesn’t call you?”

  “I promised I would, and I will. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to keep Hazel on for a few more months, then?”

  “I suppose you will,” she said, smiling at him for the first time since last night.

  After he had gone, she thought she would miss him, regret that she had sent him away. Instead, she relished having the cottage to herself, the silence like balm to her frazzled nerves.

  Alex had threatened to come down again soon, but she told him not to, that talking on the phone would have to suffice for now. He had made her wait for six months; she would make him wait the same length of time. Not for malicious reasons, far from it, but because she needed every hour of that time to contemplate becoming Mrs. Kline.

  As soon as she had waved him off, she’d phoned Penny. Another phone call she was dreading. She could guess Penny’s reaction, and she was right.

  “Have you completely lost your mind?” Penny shouted down the phone.

  “No, I have not,” Layla countered. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  “He had an affair, Layla,” Penny emphasized. “That’s unforgivable.”

  But is it? Is it really? There were many reasons for having an affair: Penny had kissed Dylan because she was lonely, Alex had had a so-called “final” fling with Sarah-Jane because he was afraid of commitment. If you understood the reasons why, maybe it wasn’t that unforgivable.

  Suspecting Penny was in no mood to agree with her, however, she said instead, “Look, Penny, I haven’t said an outright yes. I’ve said maybe. I can change my mind at any time. The ball is in my court, not his.”

  “Until you’re married, that is, then he’s back in control again.”

  “It’s not like that. He’s not like that, not anymore. He’s changed.”

  “Men like him never change.”

  They do, she wanted to shout back at her, frustration building, but she knew it was no good. Alex would never top Penny’s Christmas card list.

  “You haven’t slept with him, have you?” said Penny after a pause.

  “No, of course I haven’t. What do you take me for?”

  “Good, that’s one thing you’ve managed to get right.”

  Annoyed, Layla said, “Anyway, enough of Alex. Back to FarScapes. You still haven’t told me what you wrote in that blasted email.”

  “It was nothing.” Penny was sheepish now, Layla was pleased to note. “Not really. All I said was Easy Travel wasn’t interested in the merger with FarScapes anymore and to go and take a running jump.”

  “That’s not exactly taking it easy, is it?”

  “He deserved it after what he did.”

  “Yeah, but what you did doesn’t just affect Alex; it affects everyone. A lot of people count on him paying them a wage, you know.”

  “Ah,” said Penny contritely, “I didn’t think about that. In which case, I’m sorry. I can’t believe FarScapes took my email that seriously in the first place, though.”

  “Well, they did. Jack was furious, apparently, and now it’s up to me to try to rectify matters, talk him round.”

  “You?” Penny was clearly surprised. “Why you?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. According to Alex, Jack likes me. I mean, I know we got on well, but I didn’t think we got on that well. At any rate, I’m the last chance saloon; he refuses to have anything to do with Alex.”

  “He likes you?” Penny said, sounding wary now. “In what way does he like you? He’s not another Alex, is he?”

  “No,” said Layla. “At least, I don’t think so. Oh, God, I hope not.”

  “Don’t agree to meet up with him or anything, just in case. You should be able to say everything you need to say over the phone. The last thing you need is another old letch making passes at you.”

  Bridling at yet another dig at Alex, Layla changed the subject entirely. “How are things with you and Richard?” she asked. “Better?”

  “Yeah, they are actually, much better.”

  “That’s a relief,” said Layla. “I’m glad.”

  “Yeah, me too…but Layla, there is something I need to talk to you about.”

  At which point Layla’s mobile rang. Walking over to it, the other phone still pressed to her ear, she checked the caller ID.

  “Oh, crikey, Penny, it’s him. It’s Jack. I’ve got to answer it.”

  “Of course, Layla, that’s fine. We’ll speak later.”

  “What were you going to say, though? Anything important?”

  “No,” replied Penny quickly, “nothing important. Now hurry up, answer the phone or you’ll miss him.”

  “Okay, speak later. Love you.”

  “Yeah, I know,” said Penny. “I love you too, despite Alex.”

  Answering her mobile on what was probably the final ring, she said hello, her whole body tense with nerves.

  “Layla, is that you? My secretary said you called.”

  “I did, Jack. Hi, how are you?”

  “Good, thanks. Long time no speak. How can I help you?”

  “Well…” she said, wondering where to start.

  Oh, Christ, Jack wanted to meet up. Worse than that and despite Penny’s advice, she had agreed. FarScapes’ head office was in Bristol. When she said she couldn’t possibly travel that far, thinking it a perfectly reasonable excuse, he had quickly outwitted her.

  “No worries. Launceston’s a sort of midway point. We can meet there.”

  A town less than twenty miles from Trecastle, she had no option but to agree. And he had sounded pleased to hear from her, really pleased. Alex was right: Jack did like her, although in what way she couldn’t tell. Alex had told him already that she’d written the email (thanks, Alex), but Jack hadn’t believed him. Now Jack wanted to know why she’d written it. After all, it had caused him to pull out of a deal which would have brought FarScapes and Easy Travel a lot of business. If she was convincing, it might still be a do-able deal. Stuttering and spluttering, she had tried to conjure up a reason, but although she knew she was speaking, no sense would come out of her mouth. That’s when he had suggested they meet; it would be easier to talk face to face than on the phone. It was the last thing she wanted, but she made herself remember all the people that were relying on Alex, people who could lose their jobs unless she pulled this off, and so she gave in. At the end of the week they would meet for lunch in a little restaurant he knew; she couldn’t help sighing with relief at his suggestion to meet somewhere public. Apparently, he visited North Cornwall quite often, and he knew the best places to eat. Praying the venue wasn’t too posh—she had nothing suitable to wear—she agreed to meet him at midday at a restaurant called The Olive Tree.

  Ringing off, she supposed she’d better call Alex next and tell him the good news.

  The next day, Layla had gone round to Hannah’s flat. To her dismay, Hannah had practically mirrored Penny word for word when she had revealed what had happened with Alex. With one exception: she had asked Layla if she loved him.

  “I think so,” Layla had replied before abruptly stopping.

  Think? What had thinking got to do with anything? Why had she even uttered such a word? Hannah hadn’t looked impressed at all.

  God, she was confused. She loved Alex, had done from afar for several years and up close and personal for nearly one. She knew she loved him as surely as she knew night followed day. She didn’t need to think about anything.

  “Isn’t he a bit old for you?”

  That’s another thing Hannah had asked. It annoyed
Layla. Why did she have a problem with the age gap? Both she and Penny. It wasn’t that outrageous, fifteen years. It was nothing. Well, practically nothing.

  On Thursday they met again, this time to work the lunchtime shift at the pub. Hannah didn’t mention a thing about Alex this time, obviously sensing it was a sensitive subject. Instead, she informed Layla that there was going to be a barbeque at Shipwreck Cove that very night, quite a few people were going, and did she fancy it?

  “I’m not sure,” said Layla, knowing she had to meet Jack the next morning and plead for the future of Easy Travel.

  Joseph might be at the barbeque, too. She didn’t know if she could deal with the inner conflict his presence always engendered in her. Not on top of the already broiling emotions Alex had dredged up.

  “Come on,” Hannah had urged. “It’s a beautiful day. Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful evening, too. It would be a shame to waste it.”

  Launceston wasn’t that far away. If she did go, she wouldn’t have to get up too early, she supposed. She could still enjoy a bit of a lie-in. As for Joseph, if he ignored her, she’d ignore him too, continue the game they were playing.

  “Okay,” she said at last. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Saying goodbye to Hannah, Layla went home to pamper herself in a relaxing bath, using more aromatherapy products from Harvest Moon, the same shop she had bought the Celestial bubble bath from and the Blue Lagoon nail polish. The bubble bath she used this time was called Heavenly Spheres, and as she cocooned herself in the scented water, she did indeed feel calm and clarified, just as the label on the bottle had promised.

  After drying herself off, she brushed her hair until it shone, marveling at how long it had grown since the winter, the sunshine sending her follicles into overdrive. She opted for a slightly cropped olive green vest, sitting atop a long, black, floaty skirt—both items recently purchased in Bude, a big town further north along the coast with quite a few decent clothes shops in it. Pleased with how she looked, she set off.

  The sun was just beginning to sink when she reached Shipwreck Cove, the nickname for a small secluded bay less than a mile from the village center. Because you had to descend a rather precarious path to get to it, it was largely left alone by the tourists, who preferred to keep to the larger, more easily accessible beaches. Hannah had said it should be deserted, and it was, except for Hannah, of course, and her friends sitting round the fireside close to the water’s edge in the distance.

  Hitching up her skirt, she negotiated her way down the steep rocky path, praying she wouldn’t fall and break her neck as she did so. Upon reaching the flat golden sand, she brushed her skirt smooth, flicked her hair over her shoulders, and breathed a huge sigh of relief that she had made it intact before heading toward the crowd. She strained her eyes in the increasing gloom, just about able to make out Mick sitting tight with a group of people she didn’t recognize. Curtis and Ryan were there too, doing what they always did, strumming their guitars, whilst Jim had opted for the role of head cook this time rather than lead singer, pushing every now and then at items on the grill. Hannah was sitting beside him, hugging her legs as she swigged from a bottle of beer, but Joseph was nowhere to be seen. Instead of feeling relieved, disappointment rose up in her.

  As she drew closer, someone she didn’t recognize moved slightly, and she spotted Joseph’s blond head. He was there, after all! Maybe she’d plonk herself down beside him and force him to talk to her, she thought, feeling brave all of a sudden. That approach always seemed to work wonders for Penny; it might for her, too. With renewed vigor, she walked faster, slowing down again when she saw the stranger sitting beside him—a girl with long auburn hair and what looked like dozens of Indian bangles on her wrist—lean in to kiss him on the mouth.

  As though encountering an invisible brick wall, she came to an abrupt halt. Her mouth wide open, it took a few seconds to realize what a strange figure she must cut, standing there, stock still, staring like a demented fool. Luckily, she seemed to have escaped detection. Clamping her jaw shut, she moved quickly forward again. He’s got a girlfriend. How come I didn’t know that? Layla lived next door to him; surely she would have seen them coming and going? But she hadn’t. Not one single sighting.

  “Hey, Layla, how you doing? Come on over and grab a beer,” Jim said, his voice as usual a lazy drawl. Hannah looked up too, and Mick waved. Joseph took his time acknowledging her, waiting for the redhead to finish whatever it was she was saying before making only very brief eye contact.

  Sitting beside Joseph no longer an option, she sat next to Hannah instead, first handing over the wine she’d brought to Jim and gratefully taking a bottle of beer.

  Furtively, she studied Joseph’s companion. She was pretty, in a hippy kind of way, quite young, early twenties possibly, with pale skin that flickered almost ethereally in the firelight.

  Hannah must have noticed Layla sizing up the stranger in their midst as she proclaimed loudly, “Wondering who Joe’s friend is, Layla? Join the club. So did we. It’s Clare—a bit more than a friend as it turns out and the main reason we haven’t seen him much in the last few weeks.”

  Surprised at the slightly aggressive tone in Hannah’s voice, Layla nonetheless smiled at Clare who smiled back briefly before resuming her conversation with Joseph. Clearly, she was interested in nothing but him, this girlfriend of his.

  Lost in thought, it was another few seconds before Layla realized Hannah was speaking again. “He’s a dark horse, isn’t he? No one knew anything about her until tonight. You have to hand it to him; Joe must be the only man who, in a village like Trecastle, can keep his private life exactly that—private.”

  Joseph glanced up at this comment, a look of discomfort crossing his face. He appeared far from pleased at being the center of attention.

  Sensing it was probably a good idea to change the subject, Layla asked Jim for a rundown of the menu. She was starving, having barely eaten anything since breakfast.

  Jim looked grateful she had done so. “Mick brought a load of fish, fresh from the sea today,” he replied. “It’ll be ready soon.”

  “Lovely,” replied Layla. She was just about to ask what kind of fish it was when Hannah cut in again.

  “So, come on, Joe, why all the mystery? How come you haven’t introduced Clare to us before now?”

  Even Jim looked embarrassed at Hannah’s strident quizzing. He kept his eyes determinedly on the barbeque, turning the fish over a few times more than was strictly necessary, risking its flesh falling from the bones.

  “There’s no great mystery,” Joseph said at last. “We’ve been busy, that’s all.”

  “Too busy to waste time with us?” Hannah almost spat.

  “Okay,” said Mick, taking his turn to change the subject. “I can’t wait anymore. I have to eat.” He clapped his hands very loudly together. “Jim, my man, plate up.”

  There were hearty murmurs of agreement as people moved toward the fire and started helping themselves to food. Baffled by what had just taken place, Layla didn’t feel particularly hungry anymore but joined the queue nonetheless.

  Joseph and Clare hung back, clearly not interested in eating. In fact, casting another furtive glance at them, Layla thought Joseph looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else in the world but here. Clare seemed almost to be disappearing into him too, maybe in a bid to protect herself against any more abrasive comments from Hannah, or maybe just because she could. She really did look in awe.

  Why was Hannah making such a big deal of Joseph being with Clare, anyway? Layla presumed the girl wasn’t married; she looked too young. Besides, there was no wedding ring on her finger, an improvement on his last flirtation at least. Layla flinched at this thought, knowing she was being deliberately mean. Part of her actually felt glad he had a girlfriend; at least there’d be no more flirting with Penny when she came down. And they looked good together, he and Clare, easy on the eye.

  Still, it was a shame Layla wouldn’t hav
e a chance to build bridges with him tonight, or any other night probably. But maybe that was for the best. She would just have to savor what they had once and leave it at that.

  Layla was feeling a bit concerned that Hannah was knocking back the beers at lightning speed and becoming more and more sullen. She was about to ask if her friend was okay when Mick came and sat down beside her, effectively quashing that idea.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” he said, putting his arm around her.

  “Hiya, Mick,” she replied. “This fish is delicious. You’ve obviously had a good day’s catch.”

  “Sure did.” He chuckled, his arm remaining firmly in place. “I’m hoping for a bit of a catch tonight, too.”

  Layla laughed at his joke but out of courtesy rather than amusement. She was fond of Mick, but she didn’t feel up to their usual banter right now. Instead, she wished she was home alone, chilling on the sofa, watching something mindless on the telly or reading a good book. She was surprised to find herself aching for The Outlook, but then again perhaps not. Fending off Mick whilst staring at love’s young dream across the campfire was not really her idea of a good night out. It would look odd if she left now, though; she’d barely arrived. So not really hearing anything Mick was saying, she stared at the inky ocean, feeling strangely lost inside.

  Her reverie was rudely interrupted minutes later by Hannah lurching toward them on unsteady legs. “You okay, Layla,” she asked, her voice slurred, “or is Mick pestering you again?”

  Alarmed at her attitude and concerned for Mick, who had extracted his arm rather hastily from her shoulder at Hannah’s words, Layla replied, “We’re fine, thanks. We’re just talking. What about you? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m great.” She laughed, but it was not a happy sound. “Never better. Can’t you tell?”

  She directed her words at Joseph as much as Layla. Upon hearing them, he leaned over to Clare and whispered something in her ear. She nodded in eager agreement, and they started gathering their things to leave.

  “You off, then?” Hannah sneered. “Had enough of us, have you? Better things to do?”