‘We should have started this holiday romance a lot sooner,’ he said, softly kissing the tip of her nose. ‘Next time I meet an incredible but confusing woman, remind not to waste so much time.’
‘I don’t want you to meet any other women, ever,’ Lydia said. ‘Is that was this is, a holiday romance?’
The toast popped out of the toaster, making them both jump.
Will shook his head, thoughtful. ‘Honestly, I don’t know. At this moment, I want to say no, it’s not. This is something more. But how can it be? Will you stay here, with me in this house, and not go back to London, and not be a barrister and not do the work you love?’
Lydia searched the depths of his dark eyes, unable to find an answer.
‘What about you?’ she said. ‘Would you leave all this beauty, your home, your friends and family and follow me to London? Would you find your way around the tube, and come flat-hunting with me?’
Will said nothing, his finger stroking the nape of her neck.
‘I don’t want you to go,’ he said.
‘I don’t want you to stay here,’ she replied.
‘We could see each other at weekends,’ Will suggested. ‘I could drive down south, it’s only about six hours to London, maybe seven in traffic. Or you could come up? There are trains.’
‘Yes, and there would be holidays and stuff,’ Lydia said. ‘We could see each other in the holidays. Not that I ever take any holidays …’
‘Me either, no need when you live here,’ Will said.
Lydia rested her forehead against his chest, sighing. ‘It won’t work, will it?’
‘Probably not,’ Will agreed sadly. ‘I mean, yeah, maybe for a while. But not for ever. Even I would think you were mad to abandon your career for a man you’ve only just met.’
‘And I know you’d hate to be in the city away from all this,’ Lydia said, looking out of the window to where the steep incline of the hillside rushed upwards to meet the rain heavy sky.
‘It doesn’t mean I don’t feel how I do about you, Lydia,’ Will said.
‘No, I know.’ Lydia smiled at him. ‘It’s the same for me.’
‘So,’ Will said, on a ragged breath. ‘What now?’
‘Well.’ Lydia made herself smile. ‘We’ve got until tomorrow. That might as well be for ever. Let’s go back to bed.’
The rain didn’t stop, battering the cottage’s tiny windows, until what little of the sun that made it through the clouds disappeared once more into the wet night, and Lydia and Will did not move out of bed, except to find something to eat in his kitchen or fetch a bottle of wine. Lydia didn’t think she’d ever laughed so much, or felt such warmth flowing through every cell of her body just to be near Will. Inevitably, whether she liked it or not, she couldn’t help but compare the out-of-the-blue romance with the intense summer she had spent with Jackson. Wasn’t this just like that, she told herself, as the few hours they had together slipped away, minute by minute. Wasn’t she simply doing what she always did, throwing herself in too soon, careless of the disappointment and pain that would follow?
Just remember, this time, not to let your heart go, Lydia told herself as she studied her reflection on the ornate gold-framed mirror with which Will had finished off his otherwise utilitarian bathroom. It wasn’t only her shining eyes, tangled hair and rosy, stubble-scraped skin that told her how difficult it would be to do that. It was the fact that, in the space of just a few hours, it seemed impossible to imagine life without him.
The trouble was, Lydia knew she was drawn to a grand romance like a moth to a flame, even though all of her experience of worldly matters had taught her that life isn’t like that. That’s it’s not all hearts and flowers, noble goodbyes in train stations and tearful reunions on skyscrapers. Look at what had happened with Jackson. She had thought she was hopelessly in love with him, but she wasn’t, not really. Perhaps it was just that her normal life was often so dark and so difficult, seeing day by day how people’s lives could fall apart and crumble away at the whim of fate. The thought of escaping into her own love story, just as she did with the films she loved, was difficult to resist. And yet now, when everything was so perfect, was exactly the time she had to be pragmatic and sensible. Because tomorrow, she had to say goodbye.
‘Come back!’ Will called to her from the bedroom. ‘You’ve been gone way too long.’
It was soon after they realised they had nothing for dinner but half a bottle of Bailey’s one of Will’s clients had given him that someone banged on the front door of the cottage.
‘Who’s that?’ Will said, his brow furrowing.
‘Best way to find out is to open the door, usually,’ Lydia teased him.
‘Yes, but I’m only wearing boxers and all you’ve got on is that shirt,’ Will said, smiling at her. ‘And I was kind of hoping to get you out of it, again. Or maybe get you to keep it on, I haven’t decided yet.’
The bell sounded again.
‘Well, whoever it is, they aren’t taking the hint,’ Lydia said. ‘Go on, I’ll hide in here.’
But no sooner had Will opened the door than Joanna rushed in like the force of nature she was, shaking an umbrella all over Will’s flagstones, and tossing it in the sink.
‘So you’re not dead, then!’ Joanna exclaimed, kissing Lydia on the cheek and turning to admire a scantily clad Will, who was speedily clambering into the trousers he’d rescued from the sitting room floor. ‘Far from it, by the looks of things, you slut. Honestly, Lydia, you could have texted or something, we’ve been worried sick.’
‘Have you?’ Lydia was touched.
‘Well, not sick. That batty old nymphomaniac lady from the pub told us you’d gone off with Will, but still we didn’t know for certain that he’s not the district’s foremost serial killer. You could have let us know what you were up to.’
‘Sorry,’ Lydia said, smiling at Will, who was sheltering in the doorway, buttoning up his shirt. ‘Time sort of ran away with me.’
‘So, the big news is I drove here, in Jim’s Range Rover! The roads are clearing fast now. There are all sorts of chaps with ploughs and grit making themselves useful out there. Stephen took a punt and set off this afternoon. He said he hoped you didn’t mind him not saying goodbye …’
Lydia winced; she had forgotten all about Stephen.
‘Don’t beat yourself up too much, darling,’ Joanna said. ‘After we got back last night, Stephen and I drowned our sorrows together; and you know what, he’s going to be fine, really. He even asked me out on a date. I declined, of course; one of your cast-offs is quite enough. Anyway, Jackson, who is now staying at the pub, is going to take me home, so we can talk things through. It was his suggestion, which means something, don’t you think? I don’t know what, but … oh, fuck, I love him, Lyds, I’ve got to find out.’
‘I think you should,’ Lydia said. ‘It’s always better to know than to wonder, right?’
‘Good, so the thing is, will you be okay getting the train back? I thought perhaps Will could take you to the station? Or if not, I’m sure Katy would. She’s in a much brighter mood, you know, since yesterday. She’s come home with loads of numbers and invites round to tea. I don’t think she feels quite so isolated any more, although she is obviously still married to a prat. Still, one can’t have it all, apparently.’
‘Yes, that would be fine,’ Lydia said, really wishing that Joanna would stop making her think about tomorrow.
‘I was reading the tourist information pack that Katy left in the bedroom, now sex is off the table, and did you know they filmed that old movie you keep going on about in a station about an hour’s drive away? Oh, you know, the one with the woman with her knickers in a twist and the train thrusting into a tunnel. You made me sit through it once and I almost had to kill myself.’
‘Brief Encounter, really? The station’s nearby?’
‘Fifty miles or so, but you could persuade “someone” to take you there. You can catch a train to Lancaster and then go straight
down to London.’
Lydia looked at Will, wondering what it would be like to kiss him goodbye on the same platform as Celia and Trevor had.
‘Sounds like a bit of a trek. I reckon I’ll get a cab to Carlisle, and catch the train from there. It’ll be quicker and if there’s time I can pop and see Alex and the baby.’
‘Are you sure?’ Will asked her. ‘I don’t mind. I’d like to take you to see something that’s so special to you.’
‘Yes.’ Lydia steeled herself to rejoin the real world. ‘Yes, I’m certain.’
‘Really? That’s not like you, Lydia, to pass up a chance to pretend you’re on the silver screen! Anyway, look, it strikes me that you’re going to need a place to stay, so here’s the spare key to my place. Don’t worry, if things do work out between me and Jack, then I’ll make sure I stay at his place. If not, I’ll be constantly available for vodka and Diazepam.’ Joanna paused long enough to plant a kiss on each of Lydia’s cheeks. Lydia looked at her in grateful astonishment. ‘You’d let me move back in with you, after all that’s happened?’ she asked, albeit a tad warily.
‘Water under the proverbial, darling. Besides, I wasn’t exactly blameless. Not nearly as much to blame as you, mind you – but I did do a little bit of mildly psychotic meddling.’
‘But I …’ Lydia began, stopping when she saw Joanna’s expression.
‘Oh God! Do we really have to do all that tedious soul searching before normal service resumes in our friendship? You appear to have mistaken me for Oprah Winfrey! All right, here goes: you made a mistake – who hasn’t? Don’t do it again. Let’s cut to the next scene, camera’s rolling, tra la la …’ She paused to glare at Lydia some more. ‘God, you are so naked under that shirt; it’s revolting. Anyway, just in case I don’t see you, don’t forget to come to my New Year’s Eve party! It’s going to be the best one yet. Ciao, darling.’
And with a stolen kiss from Will, she was gone, letting a wet gust of wind blow in through the door as she walked out of it.
‘Well, your mate seems to have forgiven you,’ Will began, after the whirlwind of Joanna had worn off a little.
‘Yes, without all the tedious business of talking about it.’ Lydia smiled ruefully, before turning to Will. ‘The road’s are clearing.’
‘Oh, well,’ Will said. ‘I suppose it couldn’t snow for ever.’
‘No.’ Lydia smiled at him. ‘Will you book me a taxi for the morning, via Heron’s Pike, so I can pick up my stuff?’
‘Let me drive you,’ Will said, pulling her closer to him by the lapels of his shirt. ‘I want to.’
‘No.’ Lydia shook her head. ‘I want to say goodbye to you here. You have to be naked, though.’
‘We should exchange numbers, e-mails,’ Will said.
‘No.’ Lydia shook her head again before she’d even thought about what she was saying.
‘No?’ Will looked surprised and hurt.
‘We’ve decided, we can’t make this into a relationship based on twenty-four hours of perfect sex. And I’m a girl; e-mail and phone calls or texts won’t help me get my head around it. They’ll make me pine and write poems and phone you at three in the morning and play soppy songs to you. This has been special, I don’t want to ruin it by sending you poems.’ Lydia smiled. ‘Trust me, making promises you can’t keep never works out, and then one of you gets run over by a taxi and ends up in a wheelchair while the other one is on top of the Empire State building. It sucks.’
‘I have no idea what you are talking about,’ Will said. ‘But you should know the fact that you are almost certainly mental doesn’t make me fancy you any less.’
‘It’s a film, An Affair to Remember.’ I’d tell you to watch it, but I suspect you might find a tiny bit girly.’
‘Sounds like a horror film.’ Will grinned. ‘So, nothing. No contact after today at all? Are you sure?’
‘I am,’ Lydia lied. ‘I need to sort my life out, Will. I need to grow up. And now is the time to do it. You don’t want me like this, all over the place.’
‘Actually, I sort of do want you all over the place,’ Will said softly, popping open the top button of the shirt she was wearing.
Lydia thought for a moment. ‘The chances are that I’ll be back here again, some time. Perhaps we’ll bump into each other. How about we agree that, if we both still think about each other, we’ll meet at Heron’s Pike, the night before next Christmas, in the boathouse?’
‘In a year?’ Will said. ‘How have you gone from kissing anyone who’s passing to being the hardest to get woman in history?’
‘Because if we still feel then, the way we feel now, after all that time apart – then we’ll know. That maybe this is something worth changing our lives for. Only on your way over, keep an eye out of taxis.’
‘Mental.’ Will kissed her, warming her from the tips of her toes to her rosy cheeks with his embrace. ‘Okay, next Christmas Eve, at Heron’s Pike. And as that’s not for a year, I’d better make the most of you now.’
Lydia yelped as Will lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs, loving him utterly at that moment, because he did a very good impression of pretending that she weighed no more than a feather.
Chapter Nineteen
27 December
‘And that was it, you just had a sex marathon and then said goodbye and thanks for all the orgasms? That doesn’t sound like you at all!’ Alex cooed in a singsong baby voice, cradling little Carole in her arm, gazing at her adoringly as they sat on the pink wipe-downable chairs in the day room. ‘Oh, look at that little nose, have you ever seen such a darling, warling, ickle nosey? Have ooo? Have ooo? No you haven’t, because there isn’t one, that’s why!’
Despite crediting herself with being the main reason that Carole was here today, and although she was undeniably sweet, Lydia did rather fail to see the endless adorable qualities and peerless beauty that her smitten friend had raved on about ceaselessly since she’d arrived at the hospital with a heavy heart and an hour to kill.
‘Yes, her nose is very darling … um … warling.’ Lydia coughed and after a moment decided not to mention her boathouse pact with Will; it did rather tarnish her announcement, and besides, it would probably never come to anything anyway. She preferred to keep her plans for the next night before Christmas locked away. ‘Anyway, I know, but I’ve decided to be sensible. It’s the new me. When it comes to my career, I’m a bulldog, ruthless, tough, logical … normal. So I’ve decided to apply the same approach to my love life. I’m giving up romance, in all its perfidious forms.’
‘The same way you gave up drinking for lent that time, and then broke your wrist the next day in a vodka-and-trampoline-related incident?’
‘Yes, I mean no. I’m serious. No more rushing into things without thinking them through, no more expecting my life to turn out like a film. Because what they never show you is what happens after the credits roll, do they? After the fun snow-fight montage, or the big violin swell and the tear-jerking kiss goodbye? They never show the bit where your ex-lover turns out to be dating your best friend and you end up finishing with your own boyfriend mid-proposal, more or less, and running away with the handyman. They never show you that bit, do they?’
‘That’s because you don’t watch horror films.’ Alex purred at her baby. ‘Isn’t it, poppet, isn’t it? Slutty Aunty Lydia doesn’t like stinky horror films, no she doesn’t!’
‘Wow, I thought it was only your placenta that got delivered along with the baby, not your brain too,’ Lydia said. ‘Anyway, you should be proud of me. I’m not doing what I did after Jackson. I’m not going into “I’ll never love again” meltdown, and I’m not putting on the best part of a stone after ingesting more chocolate than any normal human can survive. I’ve enjoyed the moment, with Will. The passion and the sex, especially the sex …’ Lydia paused, momentarily distracted, before having to literally shake herself free of an image of Will in a state of extreme undress as he kissed her goodbye that morning. ‘I am prepari
ng to face the future as a single, hardworking career woman.’
Alex didn’t look the least bit surprised when Lydia burst into tears.
‘I’ll never love again!’ she sobbed into her sleeve, attracting severe looks from a couple of other nursing mums.
‘Don’t cry, Lyds,’ she said softly. ‘Here, hold Carole, she’ll cheer you up, and I’ve discovered you’re much less likely to cry hysterically if you’re worried about waking up a baby.’
Lydia took the baby, rather awkwardly at first, before she felt her warm little body settle into her arm, and she did have to admit that it was sort of soothing.
‘I’m so stupid that I actually hate myself,’ Lydia said. ‘How can I care about Will when I’ve only just ended things with Stephen, and a few days ago I wasn’t that sure I didn’t want Jackson? I’m a train wreck. Have they got a psychiatric ward here? You should have me sectioned. I’m addicted to romance!’
‘Hmm.’ Alex looked at her. ‘You are a bit, but I don’t know …’
‘What?’ Lydia asked her, studying Carole’s tiny, crumpled face.
‘Well, I’m just saying.’ Alex reached out and stroked her baby’s cheek with the back of a finger, as if she couldn’t bear not to touch her, even for a second. ‘Love happens when it happens. It doesn’t stick to a timetable. It doesn’t say, well, I can’t possibly bother this woman, she’s married, or this man’s no good, he’s got a lot on at work. The trick is to spot when it’s the real thing and make sure it doesn’t pass you by. Look at me and David. Did I ever think the only man for me would be the one who was an inch shorter than I am and can’t stop wittering on about bloody Saxons? No, I didn’t, but he is and I adore him. Knowing I’ve got him and this little one, makes me the happiest woman alive.’ Looking up at the ceiling, Alex blinked away a few tears. ‘Honestly, fucking hormones, they make it really hard to keep up the heartless bitch thing.’
‘We all know you are not a heartless bitch,’ said Lydia, carefully handing the baby back to her mother. ‘Well, you’re not heartless, anyway.’
The Night Before Christmas Page 25
