The well-groomed lady glanced up with a half-smile.
“I’m looking for my husband, He’s due to go out on the New York flight.”
“Well, I’m sorry, madam, but check-in closed a while ago, and,” she glanced at her wristwatch as if to make her point, “Boarding has already been called… Unless it’s a matter of life and death or national security, then I’m afraid I can’t take him or his luggage off the flight.”
“Oh… Can I see him to speak to?”
“No, I’m afraid that won’t be possible at this late stage. They’ll be taxiing onto the runway in ten minutes or so. It would hold up the flight and many others, and as I say, we’re not allowed to authorise anyone going through to the departure zone. Security and all that. I’m sorry.”
Kate threw her head back in frustration. Shit! She was going to cry again.
“Have you tried his mobile?” the check-in girl ventured.
“Yes,” Loads of bloody times. “I think it might be switched off, though.”
“Well, if he’s already boarded they will ask the passengers to turn off mobiles ready for take-off.”
Kate tried his phone once more. Straight onto answerphone again. That so annoying woman’s voice, “Sorry this person is not available. Please leave a message after the tone.”
The assistant could see her distress. “Look, I may be able to get a message to him. No promises, but I can try.”
“Okay, thank you. Just give me two tics.” Kate took an old shopping list out of her handbag. Put a line through the list and turned the sheet over. Began writing, “Ring me, please. We have so much to talk about.” She paused, felt the tears welling again, the truth inside her, wrote the words, “I still love you. Kate.”
“It’s for Michael Armstrong.”
The young woman took the note, jotted his name down, she must have seen the message. “Okay, I’ll try my best.” (And Kate had the feeling she would.) She gave Kate an understanding smile, the smile of someone who had known love and loss.
“Thank you.”
She then turned and dashed out the back of the check-in desks. Kate stood a while, staring across the foyer, not sure what to do next, then took a seat in a row of grey plastic chairs. Willed her phone to ring. Nothing. Heard the throttle, felt the vibration of another plane taking off. All those people and lives. Where were they all going to, coming from? Arrivals, departures. She watched for a while as a group of arrivals came out through the revolving doors. A ripple of excitement, chatter, hugs. Family reunions. And then, nearer to her, a couple holding tight with a lingering kiss. Oblivious to the bustle around them. The young man finally walking away shouldering a rucksack, giving the girl a long backwards glance before heading off through security. The girl waving, watching silently until he was through. The girl turned. Kate saw her wiping her eyes, and shared the ache of her heart.
She ought to go home.
Later, the girls settled, watching a DVD after their supper. Her mobile rang.
“Kate, it’s me.” His voice. “I’m here at JFK… I got your note.”
Bless her, the check-in girl – she’d got it to him.
“Did you come all the way to the airport. To Edinburgh?”
“Yes.”
“Is everything alright? I’m sorry, I was going to tell you, about the job and everything. But things happened pretty fast in the end.”
“It’s okay.”
“Anyway, the note. What are you saying, Kate?” She wasn’t sure if it was the distance, but he sounded cautious. And now she wasn’t quite sure herself. What was she saying? What did she want? Did she want him back?
“I – I don’t know. I just couldn’t bear the thought of you going away, so far. Is it for good?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’m just helping Paul set up… and then, well there’s a job here if I want it.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Umn, you said you wanted to talk, Kate. You drove all that way.”
“Yes,” but the words seemed stuck now, “Well, I–I needed to say sorry. For giving you such a hard time at the hospital.” There was so much more she needed to say, but she didn’t know where to start. “I–I was just worried sick, about Em, you know.”
“Yeah, I know… Hey, you were probably right, though.”
“No… No, I wasn’t. The nurse said you’d done your best with Emily. I was just angry, frustrated. Michael, you’re a good dad.”
“Thanks… that means a lot.” His voice sounded fractured. “Look, my case is here now on the carousel. I’m going to have to go soon. Is there anything else you wanted to say?”
She stayed quiet a second. A second too long.
“Okay, well shall I ring you back later? From the hotel?”
This was so difficult. She had so much more to say.
Did she really want him back, living here with her and the girls? Or was she just frightened by the thought of him being so far away. But was that enough? She’d written in the note that she still loved him, she knew that was true. But did she love him enough to truly forgive him? Trust him enough to believe he wouldn’t betray her again? Or would his affair just keep rearing its ugly head? Their relationship could never be the same, she realised that. They would never get back that old, easy loving… but could there be something new? A way forward?
“Yes, call me later.”
Later dissolved into a chat about the girls, details of where he was staying, what the new job might entail. The time to talk about them seemed to have passed, too difficult, too awkward. The moment lost.
Curled in bed, she felt the weight of missing him. Love and loss taking her to a place of incredible sadness. What if she never got the chance to tell him?
Chapter 38
Another quiet evening, the girls settled upstairs, TV on, fire glowing in the grate. Her home calm, yet a feeling of emptiness lingered. Even though he’d not been living there for some time now, it was weird to think of Michael so far away in the States.
A dull throb of a car engine outside, might be next door’s. It stopped. The tread of feet. Was that her path? It was past half-eight, she didn’t usually get unexpected visitors this time of a night; Mel would be busy with her own family, and her parents and in-laws were rarely out in the evening in winter.
Damn, her doorbell buzzed. She got up swiftly. Didn’t want it to disturb the girls; they’d have just got off to sleep. Probably some charity coming door-to-door or a salesman, bloody awkward time, though.
She opened the door with an air of caution, ready to move whoever it was on politely but swiftly, and get back to her sofa.
“You said you still loved me… The note.” Michael.
A lump lodged in her throat so tightly she could hardly speak. She nodded, emotion gripping her chest. Finally she managed a simple, “Yes.”
“I’ll never let you down again.” His eyes held hers with such honest intensity.
“I know.” And this time she was sure he meant it. “Where did we go, Michael? What happened to us?”
“I don’t know, Kitty… I don’t know.”
He hadn’t called her that in such a long time, a nickname lost in their early years. It took her back so sharply that it crushed her. Could she carry on letting him walk out of that door, let him go thousands of miles away to take up the job in New York, or did he, they, deserve another chance at this? What was he doing here, anyhow? Shouldn’t he be over there setting up the new business? She’d only spoken with him there in the States this morning. He’d said he was sorting some things out with the US company.
But he was here. Just a step away from her.
She made that step forward, cupped his face in her hands, felt the stubble of his chin under her fingertips, breathed in the oh-so-familiar scent of his aftershave. Her arms around him, pulling him to her. His sigh of relief, soft and sexy, at her ear lobe. In the hallway now. Pressed cheek to cheek, chest to chest, hip to hip. Her body made sense of it all. His fingers through her hair, hers kneading at the base of hi
s neck. She drew her lips close, pressed them against his. A fragile kiss full of insecurity, yet holding the memory of all those kisses before. Passion and tenderness, lips pressed firmly now, tongues entwined. The taste of the past and the promise of tomorrow. Kissing and crying, the two of them.
After a long while they pulled apart slowly, still hesitant. The words she needed were in his eyes. She took his hand. Led him upstairs, silently, past the bedroom where their girls slept soundly, closing their bedroom door behind them. Their bodies seemed to know how to get through this.
In the half light, in the room where they had made love hundreds of times, they remembered; touching, tasting, hungry for each other. Fumbling with buttons, zips. Discarding clothes. Pulling him to her, not wanting to waste a second more. He was above her, inside her, still kissing, holding on as though they were the last man and woman on earth. The world a blur, just the two of them, making love with an urgency that neither had ever felt before. Tracing his fingers down her spine, holding her tight to him as he pulsed inside her, until she came with a cry from her soul, as he sobbed the words, “Kate, my Kitty,” softly in her ear, like hers was the only name he’d ever known.
They stayed locked together for a long while as their heartbeats slowed, not wanting to let each other go, faces close enough to kiss, fingertips entwined.
She lay with his smell, his taste on her, their sweat cooling on the covers around them. Her husband there beside her. It felt as if they had come home. She drifted off to sleep, with his arms around her and woke to find him curled behind her, the way he always used to, his chest against her back, legs tucked against hers.
Morning light was seeping into the room.
The girls running in. Stopped abruptly in their tracks and stared at the two figures in the bed. “Mummy… Daddy?”
The pair of them bouncing on the bed. “You’re back, Daddy. You’re back!” Jumping all over him, smothering him with kisses and cuddles. His arm still firm around Kate. Lottie beaming, “Did you see Minnie Mouse?” Emily stole in under the covers, her voice hushed, eyes gazing up at her daddy’s, “Are you back for good?”
His arm squeezed around Kate a little tighter. As he looked at her, she gave a nod, a broad smile.
“Yeah, I’m back for good.”
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Amie, Harry, and Richard – the home team! To my Mum and Dad for always being there. My sister, Debbie, thanks for keeping me going through the ups and downs of writing life and good luck with your writing too! And to all my family.
For Kimberley Young, thank you for your early support, advice and belief in my writing, and the team at HarperImpulse for giving me this amazing opportunity for publication. My editors, Charlotte Brabbin and Charlotte Ledger, thanks so much, it’s been a pleasure working with you.
For the Romantic Novelists’ Association, and in particular my wonderful friends in the Northumberland Chapter, thanks for all the support (and tea and cake) through that rollercoaster ride of submissions.
To my lovely friends, too many to name here, but I’ll be celebrating with you and a few bottles of bubbly very soon!
To Northumberland for inspiring me with the most stunning scenery and settings for my writing.
And, for anyone who dares to make dream a reality – GOOD LUCK AND GO FOR IT!
Caroline Roberts
Family, friends, food, a glass of bubbly and, of course, a good book make me smile. I love writing emotional stories about love, loss, betrayal, and family, that explore how complex and yet beautiful love can be. I also like to write romantic comedy, letting the characters have a bit of fun too! I believe in following your dreams, which led me here to Harper Impulse and a publishing deal (woop!) after many years of writing. Stunning Northumberland is my home – sandy beaches, castles and gorgeous countryside that have inspired my writing.
http://carolinerobertswriter.blogspot.co.uk/
@_caroroberts
About HarperImpulse
HarperImpulse is an exciting new range of romance fiction brought to you from the women’s fiction team at HarperCollins. Our aim is to break new talent from debut authors and import the hottest trends from the US, bringing you the very best in romance. Whether that is through short reads for your mobile phone or epic sagas that span the generations we want to proudly publish romance fiction that gets everybody talking.
Romance readers, come and meet the team at our website www.harperimpulseromance.com, our Facebook page www.facebook.com/HarperImpulse or follow us @HarperImpulse!
Writers, we are simply looking for good stories! So, what are you waiting for? To submit, e-mail us at [email protected].
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