I felt pretty numb at the news about that murderer, but I wasn’t surprised. It was inevitable that he’d hurt or kill someone again when he hadn’t been banged up for life. I pushed my angry thoughts out of my mind and focussed on what Sam was saying. The more he talked about stress, the more it made sense. He advised Mum to make an appointment with her GP to have her blood pressure monitored and explore stress and depression. He approved of the decisions she’d already made around resigning from the valuation work and having me supporting in the shop. He advised her that, whilst she probably wouldn’t notice an immediate impact because she’d no doubt be stressed about the adjustment to her routine, she would notice it soon enough.
Sam looked at his watch. ‘It’s nearly nine. I’ve been interrogating you both for the best part of three hours. You must be exhausted, Julie.’
‘I am actually. But it was worth it. I can’t thank you enough, Sam.’ Mum yawned and stretched. ‘I need to go to bed. Are you okay if Jemma sees you out?’
‘Of course. Good night, Julie. Please get in touch if you have any other questions.’ He handed her a business card. ‘Definitely get in touch with your GP though.’
‘I will. I promise.’
I cleared away the empty glasses and mugs while Sam packed away his paperwork. When I heard Mum’s bedroom door close upstairs, I turned to him.
‘She definitely doesn’t have dementia?’
He stopped what he was doing and smiled. ‘Definitely. I wasn’t just saying that stuff about stress to deflect her. I’m absolutely certain that’s what it is, possibly accompanied with depression. She’s likely been stressed for years but has just been one of those powerhouses who’s pushed through it. Your dad’s death was the catalyst for it becoming a bigger thing.’
‘But she didn’t even like him. She wasn’t upset when he died.’
‘She doesn’t have to have been. She might not personally have been affected by his death but she’d have been aware that you and your brother were going to be and that her role was now as mum and dad to you both. Consciously or not, she’ll have created that extra role for herself, adding even more stress. Hey, don’t cry.’
‘Sorry,’ I wiped at my tears. ‘It’s just such a relief to hear you say that it’s only stress.’
‘Don’t underestimate stress. It’s dangerous.’
‘I know. It’s just that I’d rather it’s stress which she can do something about by reducing her workload and having me here to help with Sean, as opposed to dementia which she can’t do anything about. I thought we were losing her, Sam.’
Next minute, I was in his arms again. He held me, stroked my back, whispered soothing words as the worry of the last few months poured out of me.
When I’d stopped crying, he loosened his hold slightly and looked down into my eyes.
‘I think someone else is suffering from stress too and I don’t think I’ve helped, have I?’
‘You couldn’t have predicted what happened.’
‘I know, but… You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now.’
My already racing heart skipped a beat. ‘I wouldn’t push you off.’
‘I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. I’m going to this thing on Friday. Nikki’s parents own one of the beach huts on North Beach. They’re having a few drinks as a memorial thing for Nikki, but also for the baby now. I need to focus on that. Maybe we could meet up on Saturday night and talk?’
I held my breath as he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. ‘I’d like that.’
‘So would I.’ He shook his head. ‘I have to go before I do something I know I shouldn’t.’
I nodded, although I wanted to scream: ‘Just do it! Use me! I want you.’
As we stood by the door a few minutes later, Sam said, ‘I know I’m probably confusing the hell out of you at the moment, but I’ve never been anything but honest with you. Bear with me while I get past Friday. I don’t know whether I need days or weeks or months at the moment, but I’ll continue to be honest with you. I promise.’ He leaned forward and gave me another gentle kiss on the lips, then ran down the drive to his campervan, leaving me touching my lips yet again, longing for more.
Chapter 37
Jemma
* To Sam
Thinking of you today as you remember Nikki and the baby. Hope the memorial is everything you hope for xx
I couldn’t believe it was Friday already. Wednesday and Thursday had whizzed by. Mum had woken up on Wednesday morning with a new lease of life, making an emergency appointment to see her GP that afternoon, and another appointment with her counsellor to explore the new information. I organised test drives for three cars on the Thursday afternoon and made a speedy decision as to which I liked best, placing an order on the same day. My very first car. Tempting as it was to buy a new one, I went for a lease contract instead as that seemed more financially viable. It didn’t make me any less excited, though.
Mum spent Friday morning in Bear With Me but agreed to have the afternoon off to de-stress. Rachel had booked them both in for a pampering afternoon at a local spa and they were planning to end their day with a film and a takeaway at Rachel’s. Billy Thomas had invited Sean for tea, the cinema, and a sleepover, which meant I’d be on my own for the first time since I’d moved home. Rachel invited me to join them for the evening, but I decided that the me-time would be welcome. As I caught up with the finances at the little desk in the staff room, I started to doubt my decision, though. How would I spend my me-time? Thinking about Sam and convincing myself that, if he was ever in a position to move on from Nikki and the baby, he wouldn’t still be interested in me. And dwelling on the revelation that Eddie Holmes nearly killed someone else when he should still have been behind bars, paying for what he’d done to Dad.
There was a knock on the door and Annie pushed it open. ‘Sorry to disturb you, but there’s a woman downstairs asking for you.’
‘For me? Not Mum?’
‘No. You.’
‘Did she give her name?’
Annie grimaced. ‘I never even thought to ask. Sorry.’
‘That’s okay. Let me save this, then I’ll be down.’ I’d been in touch with The Bay News about running some adverts and a promotional piece so I assumed it was a journalist or sales rep from there.
Annie pointed towards a woman with dark bobbed hair peering into a glass cabinet containing some vintage bears, lovingly restored by Mum.
‘Hi, I’m Jemma,’ I said, approaching the woman. ‘You wanted to see me?’
She turned around, straight-faced, and looked me up and down, which unnerved me somewhat. ‘Is there somewhere private we can talk?’ she said.
‘We’ve got a staffroom. Can I ask your name?’ She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her.
‘Fiona,’ she said. ‘Fiona Hannigan.’
‘And what’s it about?’
‘My husband, Adam. Although I think you know him as Scott.’
Shhhiiiiiittttttt!!!!!!!!! I bashed into a display table, knocking over a couple of bears.
‘Are you okay, Jemma?’ Annie called from behind the counter.
‘Erm… Yes. Fine. Lost my footing.’ I cleared my throat and hoped I sounded in control. ‘We’re going upstairs. Are you and Liv okay on your own?’
She gave me a strange look, but stopped short of reminding me that there were usually only two staff serving and I’d been upstairs all afternoon anyway. ‘We’ll be fine. You take your time.’
I tried to sort out the bears, but knocked another one over. Liv appeared by my side. ‘I’ll sort these out. You see to your visitor.’
My stomach churned as Fiona followed me up the stairs. She didn’t look like she was about to hit me, but you never knew.
‘Tea or coffee?’ I asked.
‘Tea please. Milk, no sugar.’
I pointed to t
he table. ‘Have a seat. I won’t be long.’
For the first time ever, I was thankful for the world’s noisiest kettle as it meant we couldn’t talk. Which meant I could calm down a bit first. Except that I felt anything but calm.
Drinks made, I approached the table, my stomach in knots, and handed Fiona her tea. I sat down and waited for her to speak as I had no idea what to say as an opener.
‘You’re probably wondering why I’m here.’
I could guess. ‘Presumably Scott… Adam told you about me.’
She twisted a lock of hair around in her left hand. I noticed the bare ring finger. They’d split up?
‘Not exactly,’ she said. ‘I found out about you.’
‘I’m sorry. That must have been hard.’ Didn’t I know it?
She nodded. ‘It was…’ She paused as though searching for the right word, ‘…well, it was one of those things you hope you’ll never discover.’ She gave a weak smile and I did the same in return. Awk-ward.
‘I have some questions,’ she said. ‘Some of them may seem strange, so please bear with me. Do you mind?’
‘Go ahead.’
She took a deep breath. ‘When did you meet him?’
‘January last year.’
‘So it was going on for…?’
‘About 18 months.’
‘When you met him, did you know that he was married?’
I shook my head. ‘God, no! I know you don’t know me, but believe me when I say that I’m not the sort of person who’d do that. If I’d thought for a second that he was married when we met, or even that he had a girlfriend, nothing would have happened. I promise you.’
Holding Fiona’s gaze, I noticed how exhausted she looked. Her grey eyes glistened with unshed tears and she had dark shadows beneath them which she’d attempted, but failed, to cover with concealer.
‘How and when did you find out about me?’ she asked. ‘Did he come clean?’
‘I wish. No. He ghosted me in June. I didn’t understand why he’d dropped out of my life like that. I thought we were h…’ I stopped. She didn’t need to know that we were happy. I didn’t want to rub it in. ‘My flatmate and I did some investigating, found out where he worked, and discovered he’d given me a false name. I emailed him to let him know he’d been sprung. Unfortunately, I found out that he’d been living a double life when I got an out of office message saying he was on paternity leave.’
She winced. ‘Oh my God! That’s really how you found out?’
I nodded. ‘As I said, if I’d had even the slightest inkling before then… I’m not the sort of person who’d do that to another woman.’
Fiona held my gaze as though deciding whether she believed me or not. ‘Did he tell you why he gave you a false name?’
‘It was some sort of game that the two of you played. Scott Hastings is a character out of a film. Strictly Ballroom, I think.’
She gasped and shook her head. ‘Of course he is! How stupid am I? It’s one of my favourite films and I never even registered the name.’
I wrapped my hands around my mug, for comfort as much as anything. ‘Why are you here? I don’t mean that in a rude way. I just don’t understand why you’re asking me about Scott… Adam… when you could have confronted him about it. He’d have more answers than I do because, to be honest, I don’t fully understand what happened or why.’
Fiona looked down into her tea and shook her head. ‘I can’t confront Adam.’
‘Why not? Refusing to talk about it, is he?’
‘More like unable to talk about it.’ She looked up and straight into my eyes. ‘There’s no easy way to say this. I’m sorry, Jemma, but Adam’s dead.’
Chapter 38
Sam
7.10am. North Beach. Friday 11th November. One year on. I sat cross-legged on the cold sand next to my board, eyes fixed on the horizon. Sunrise was due any minute. To my left, way down at the other end of the beach, were the rock pools and the spot where it happened. I could just about make out the shape of the Sea Rescue Sanctuary, but the beach itself was in darkness. I turned my gaze back to the horizon. The sun peeped over the edge, becoming an ever-increasing arch of orange. It was time. Standing up, I grabbed my board, then ran towards the sea. ‘This is for you, Nikki,’ I whispered. ‘And our baby.’
The unmistakable aroma of bacon hit me as soon as I opened the door to Mum and Dad’s, making my stomach growl appreciatively. I found Mum in the kitchen filling the teapot. She tried to dab her eyes with a tea towel but she wasn’t quick enough. ‘Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t want to cry but I can’t help it. I miss her.’
I hugged her. It was easy to focus on the pain I’d felt during the past year and forget that Mum and Dad had lost their surrogate daughter too. ‘I miss her too.’
‘How was the surf?’ she asked, pulling away and reaching into the cupboard for some mugs.
‘Perfect. I think Nikki would have approved. She wouldn’t have wanted me to spend the day moping about.’
‘I think that Nikki would approve of anything that makes you happy.’ She looked at me pointedly, and raised her eyebrows.
‘Why do I get the impression that you’re not talking about surfing?’
She shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea what you mean.’
‘Yeah, right. Have I got time for a shower before the bacon’s ready?’
‘I can keep it warming. Off you go. You’ve got sand in your hair as usual.’
An image of Nikki on the first day I saw her, sand in hair, flashed into my mind, making me smile.
A text was waiting from Jemma when I’d finished in the shower:
* From Jemma
Thinking of you today as you remember Nikki and the baby. Hope the memorial is everything you hope for xx
I sat on the edge of my bed, wrapped in my towel, as I read her text again. How was it that she was so thoughtful? Things hadn’t been awkward on Tuesday when they so easily could have been. She’d been so understanding. When I’d said that I needed time, she hadn’t whined and she hadn’t pushed. But she hadn’t pulled away either. She’d have let me kiss her. She said so. I wished I had. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. I’d picked up my phone to call or text her on countless occasions since Tuesday, but kept reminding myself that I had to keep my focus and get through the anniversary and memorial drinks before I could even think about picking things back up with Jemma. I should have done that in the first place; waited until the anniversary had passed before I’d opened my big mouth, then we wouldn’t be in this situation. We’d still have been friends and I could have let it grow naturally instead of jumping straight in and wiping out. I hoped I hadn’t destroyed her trust in me.
My thoughts turned to the evening plans at Hailey and Zack’s beach hut. I was dreading it because, from a conversation I’d had with Hailey yesterday, it was obvious it was no longer the small, select gathering they’d originally suggested. I didn’t like huge parties and neither had Nikki. She’d have hated knowing her parents had invited so many people. It would be easier to face if Jemma was with me but I knew it was inappropriate. Even if I introduced her as a friend, there’d be whisperings and assumptions.
I read Jemma’s text again. I wanted to see her. I wanted to talk to her. But it wasn’t fair. So I typed in something friendly but completely non-committal and shook my head in disgust as I sent it:
* To Jemma
Thank you. It was meant to be a small gathering but I think their definition of small may be my definition of huge so not looking forward to it xx
‘What are you doing today?’ Mum asked over bacon and fried egg butties.
I shrugged. ‘Stevie and Rob offered to meet me at lunchtime or this afternoon for a pint but I haven’t confirmed anything.’
‘That sounds nice. Will you do it?’
Would I? Sod it! I had nothing else pl
anned and it was good of them to offer.
‘I’m so pleased that you’re back in touch with them,’ Mum continued. ‘They were such lovely boys when you were at school together. And you did say you had a good evening with them on Monday.’
I had. I’d expected it to be awkward and, when I’d walked into The White Horse and spotted them laughing together, I’d almost lost my nerve. Then I’d noticed the 3rd pint on the table. Stevie had clocked me at that point and waved me over. ‘We remembered you used to love real ale. We’re hoping you still do. If you do, it was my idea. If you don’t, it was Rob’s!’ After that, it had been easy banter all the way. I decided to wipe the slate clean immediately and apologise for my stupid comments about Maddy. Stevie laughed and said that he could have saved himself a lot of pain if he’d actually listened to me instead of being so stubborn. He said that, if I could forgive him for not inviting me to the wedding, we were evens. After that, we chatted about their lives since college. Rob had gone away to Bristol University and stayed there, only returning home a couple of years ago when he’d split up with his girlfriend. He said he was bi-sexual and was now living with a bloke called Gary who happened to be the ex-husband of Stevie’s partner, Elise. I certainly hadn’t expected a revelation like that.
The subject then moved onto Nikki. I didn’t tell them about the baby or about Jemma. I’m not sure why. It turned out that Rob had known Nikki, although he hadn’t seen her for years. His mum and Hailey had been pregnant at the same time and had met at antenatal classes, remaining good friends over the years. That was the thing about Whitsborough Bay; everyone seemed to know everyone.
‘Tough day?’ Stevie asked, joining me in a booth in The Lobster Pot, a pub on the seafront overlooking South Beach.
‘Not too bad so far. This thing at the beach hut tonight could tip it the other way, though.’
Rob took a seat next to him. ‘My parents are going. The invitation included me too.’
Bear With Me Page 26
