She threw her head back. The coolness of the spray bouncing off the water and soaking her face and hair was delightful. Legend had it that King Arthur and his band of knights had stood on the very spot she was now occupying before going into battle, kneeling in supplication. Tara had the feeling a lot of people came here to do that, to pray before fighting battles of their own, personal usually. That was one of the reasons why she had come today, to tune in to something that couldn’t be seen, only felt. Something good, something that was rooting for her to be the victor also.
All the while she stood there, Joseph remained beside her, not saying a word, just letting her be. She was grateful to him for that.
After St. Nectan’s Glen, Tara felt famished—the first time she had in an age. Arm in arm, they made their way back through the valley to where the car was parked and headed for Boscastle, a popular village five miles from Trecastle. Harbour Lights, the café they chose, was located opposite the world-famous Witch Museum, a place full of macabre exhibits from the occult world, including pickled frogs in bottles and genuine handwritten spell books.
“Do you remember the first time I took you in there?” laughed Tara, nibbling at her cheese-filled baguette. “You thought us Cornish were a weird lot.”
“And you think my opinion’s changed?” He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Hey.” She tapped playfully at his hand. “We’re no weirder than you Londoners.”
“Maybe,” Joseph conceded.
After Boscastle, they returned to Port Levine.
“Joseph,” Tara said tentatively while still in the car. “Can you spare another hour? It’s just, I have a real hankering to go down to World’s End, to see if the tide’s out.”
“Sure,” he replied without even the slightest hesitation.
Not stopping in the village after all but driving right past it, they pulled off the main road about a mile or two outside of Port Levine and traveled down a much narrower road instead. At the beach, Joseph parked the car on a strip of grass verge so that other drivers, although they were few and far between, could pass unobstructed.
The tide was indeed out. Immediately, Tara slipped her shoes off and ran to the water’s edge, licking at the salt on her lips as she did so, inhaling the briny smell that filled the air around her. After a while, she braved the surf, the coldness of the water causing a sharp intake of breath, the foam decorating her ankles prettily. Joseph caught up with her. He too had removed his shoes and rolled up his jeans.
“I hope you’re not thinking of going in any farther,” he commented, shivering.
“You mean skinny dipping like we used to? Do you remember?”
“Skinny dipping with you? I’m not likely to forget!”
She laughed out loud at the grin on his face. “Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “I won’t go any farther.”
It was hard to tell whether he was relieved or saddened by that.
Kicking the surf at one another, she knew that he, as much as she, was enjoying being in the moment, not worrying whether they were getting too wet or they might be cold later, just living for the moment, seizing the day and all that was good in it.
After a while, they retreated to an outcrop. The rocks, a mixture of granite and slate, were warm and dry. Only in one or two more worn-down areas had water collected, surrounded by barnacles that glistened like strings of pearls.
“I’ve missed this part of the world,” Tara sighed, reveling in the view before her. “There’s nowhere like it, nowhere at all.”
“So, coming home, it was the right thing to do?”
Tara thought for a moment. “It was,” she replied at last. “It’s been brilliant seeing my parents again.” Shyly she added, “And you.”
He looked away, and she wondered why.
Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I’m telling them—my parents, I mean—this afternoon, when you take me back.”
“If you think the time is right,” he said, turning back to look at her again.
“It is. You know as well as I do, I can’t keep putting it off. Besides which, you’re going home soon, and I know you. You won’t be happy doing that until I’ve told them.”
“Florence can wait if it has to.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
Each fell into silence, seabirds calling to one another above them. Tara listened intently. The sound was beautiful, more beautiful than she had ever realized.
“And Aiden, will you tell him?”
Tara started at the mention of his name. “No,” she breathed.
“You know I think that’s unfair, don’t you?”
Tara cogitated for a few moments before trying to appease him. “I’ll write him a letter,” she said.
Joseph turned to face her fully now. She didn’t want to listen to his next words; she wanted to listen only to the seabirds.
“A letter’s too impersonal.”
“Well, I can’t exactly hop over on a plane, can I?” she protested.
“No, but you can phone him, let him hear your voice at least. Tara, Aiden loved you. Sorry, that’s incorrect. He loves you. You were getting married.”
A picture of the Coke ring Aiden had given her flashed up in Tara’s mind—a vision that nearly undid her. She held firm, though, and made herself listen further.
“Not knowing why you suddenly upped and left will destroy him, or at least a part of him. You have to tell him, Tara. Maybe then he can get on with his own life, start again. I don’t think he’ll be able to do that until you’ve explained. He’ll always wonder what he did that was so wrong. Not knowing will eat away at him.”
Joseph was right. What she had done to Aiden, it was cruel. Perhaps it was even crueler than the truth. Aiden had really loved her; she had no doubt about that. It wasn’t possible to feel the way she did about him and not have that feeling reciprocated. She hated to think how he had reacted to the letter she had left; she hadn’t thought about it, in truth. Now she could imagine all too vividly his pain.
“Okay,” she eventually conceded. “But my parents first.”
“And then?” Joseph prompted.
“Then I’ll call him, talk to him.” After a moment, she added, “Say good-bye properly.”
“No more secrets,” he replied.
“No more secrets,” she promised. Then she looked at her watch.
“We’ll go back when you’re ready,” he said, noticing. “There’s no rush.”
“Thanks.” She swallowed hard as she said it.
“One thing I must do, though, is text Layla. I should have done it earlier, really.”
He stood and reached round to his back pocket. His eyebrows furrowed, he patted the other pocket instead.
“I must have left my phone in the car,” he said, more to himself than Tara.
Immediately, she fished hers out of her jacket pocket. “Here, use mine.”
Thanking her, Joseph took the phone and sent his text.
“Go ahead and tell Layla tonight, Joseph. That’s long overdue too.”
There was no mistaking the expression on his face; it was one of relief.
“Thanks,” he replied.
“She’s been incredible,” Tara continued. “She really is one of a kind.”
A smile crept across his face. He looked so proud. “I told you.”
“Come on. I need to get back now, and so do you.”
Joseph pulled her to her feet. “Good luck, Tara,” he said. “With everything.”
“Thanks. It’d be nice to think Lady Luck hasn’t forgotten about me entirely.”
No sooner had she said it than she was in his arms. He was holding her close, as close as he used to, close enough so she could feel how much he was trembling. He was sniffing slightly too. Realizing he was upset, she tried to comfort him.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”
But her voice cracked on the last word.
Chapter Twenty-One
“IS JOSEPH
BACK YET?”
Despite how late it was in the day, Penny was still relishing being under the covers when Layla came flying into the room. After the suspicion that Tara was pregnant had hit like a thunderbolt, she had lain awake for ages, sleep finally claiming her, but not until a new dawn had broken. Even then, it had been a fitful sleep, one she had woken from many times. Only in the last hour or two had she managed a decent stretch, her mind exhausted with adding two and two together.
Bleary eyed, she forced herself into a sitting position. “Umm, I don’t know. Has he gone out somewhere?”
Without answering, Layla ran out into the hallway, making her way to the kitchen, Penny guessed. While she did that, Penny supposed she’d better get up and check her phone to see if Richard had been trying to ring her. Grabbing it off the coffee table, she was surprised to see he hadn’t. Getting the hang of childcare, are you? Still, even if he was, he would have phoned, surely, to gloat if nothing else. She had managed to speak to him late yesterday, but the conversation had been decidedly clipped, Richard still clearly fuming from her thoughtless words earlier on in the week. He was a sulker, was Richard. It was a trait of his that really got to her. She was more of a blow up, have a good scream, then forget all about it kind of girl. It irked her too that he hadn’t checked in yet—it was noon, for heaven’s sake. With the baby in the house, he’d have been up for hours. She dashed off a quick text to him instead, a curt Is everything okay? before heading to the kitchen too.
Layla was drumming her fingers on the Formica work-top. “Where is he?” she was mumbling. “Where the hell is he?”
“Have you tried his mobile?” Penny asked, shaking the kettle to check if there was water in it.
“I just did. He’s not picking up. Story of my life, huh? I need to speak to him, and I need to speak to him now.”
Trying to stifle a yawn, Penny pulled up a chair. “Can’t you tell me instead?”
Layla stopped drumming. She looked at Penny intently instead. Too intently. Penny’s breath caught in her throat. Had she guessed Tara was pregnant too?
Almost flinging herself in the chair beside Penny, Layla pushed the salt and pepper mills out of the way with a sweep of her hand. Once the coast was clear, she reached across to take Penny’s hand in hers. Oh, crap. She did know.
“Tara’s been lying to us,” she announced, her eyes alight.
“I guessed as much,” Penny replied, cringing.
“You guessed?” Layla was taken aback.
“Erm, sort of.” This was going to hit hard. Who was she kidding? It had hit hard.
“How?”
“Well, I sort of…It’s obvious, really.”
“I know it is. Of course it is.”
As Layla shook her head from side to side, Penny reached out a tentative hand. “Layla, I’m so sorry. How did you find out?”
“Because I’ve just met him, just now in the village.”
Him? But she couldn’t find Joseph; she’d just said as much. That’s why she was trying to phone him. Poor girl, she really was in a state, unsurprisingly so.
Taking Layla’s hand in both of hers, Penny urged her to calm down, to take plenty of deep breaths, in through her nose, out through her nose, the way she’d been taught in baby yoga classes. For good measure, she did the same.
After a few moments, Penny repeated her question. “How did you find out?”
Layla looked almost drunk on oxygen. “Find out what?”
“That she’s pregnant.”
“Who’s pregnant?”
“Tara.”
“Tara?” Layla’s eyes widened so much, Penny feared they might pop out of their sockets altogether. “She’s pregnant? How do you know?”
“Well, she was sick yesterday. Pregnancy tends to have that effect.”
Layla shot to her feet and started pacing the floor. “Is that it? She’s pregnant, and she didn’t tell him.”
Penny rose quickly too. Walking over to Layla, she gripped her firmly by her shoulders and forced her to stand still. “Do you really think he doesn’t know?” she asked.
“Know what?” Layla’s eyes looked wild.
“That Tara’s pregnant.”
Shaking her hair, golden strands in amongst the brown falling forward to temporarily cover her face, Layla replied, “I have no idea if he knows or not. If he does, he didn’t let on. Is that the reason why she fled from him, do you think?”
“Fled from him? You mean to him, don’t you?” Penny corrected.
Exasperation marked Layla’s face. “No, I don’t. I mean from him. Poor Aiden.”
Penny was exasperated too. “Aiden? Who the hell is Aiden?”
“Her boyfriend.” Layla was shouting now. “Her significant other, the one she denied having. I asked her outright, not once but twice. She denied him both times.”
“Okay, okay, stop there. All this talk of denial, it’s getting too biblical for my liking. Sit back down. I’ll make us a nice cup of tea, and you can tell me exactly who Aiden is, and, more to the point, how you found out about him if not from Tara.”
Thankfully the chamomile tea did seem to have a calming effect on her friend. Penny made her take several sips before allowing her to speak again. As Layla revealed who Aiden was, Penny could feel her own eyes widen too. At one point, her mouth dropped open, and she had to make a concerted effort to shut it.
“Her boyfriend? From Australia. He’s come all the way over here to find her?” She said the words to herself as much as to Layla, trying to make sense of them.
“Yeah, and if she’s pregnant, he gave no indication that he knew.” After taking another sip of tea, she added, “And there’s another thing.”
“Another thing?” Penny was aghast. What else could there be?
“She was in Florence for an entire month before coming home to Cornwall.”
An entire month? “I thought it had only been for a few days. No one said otherwise.” Penny bit down on her lip—so it could be Joseph’s baby. The time frames fit. “And where’s he now?”
“Who?” Chamomile was clearly powerful stuff. Layla looked punch drunk.
“Aiden.”
“He’s at Gail’s. She has holiday lodgings above the coffee shop. He’s getting some rest. I insisted he did. He looks as if he hasn’t slept much since she left him. Actually, that’s what he said, pretty much.”
“That’s dramatic, isn’t it, turning up on her doorstep? I mean, perhaps not if you live in the next village or town, but if you live thousands and thousands of miles away, it is. Actually it’s bloody impressive when you think about it, traveling halfway across the globe.” Aware that she was babbling, she forced herself to stop. Composed again, she asked, “And he doesn’t know Tara’s here? You didn’t tell him?”
“No.” Layla was adamant. “I thought I’d discuss it with Joseph first before I decide what to do.”
“Good idea.” Or was it? Penny couldn’t tell. Again she calculated time frames, searching to give Joseph a way out, desperate to do so. The time frames were tight, admittedly, but not impossible, not impossible at all. And if the baby was Joseph’s, is that what he had meant when he had said to Tara he’d be there for her “every step of the way”?
“Penny, what is it?”
Penny started at the mention of her name. “Nothing,” she replied, her voice an octave or two higher than she’d have liked.
“Where’s Hannah?” Layla asked suddenly. “Is she up yet?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure.”
Layla got up, exited the kitchen, and knocked gently on Hannah’s bedroom door. There was no reply. She pushed the door open, calling out to announce her presence. Penny came up behind her as she did so.
“They must have gone out too,” Layla said, clearly disappointed.
Penny was too. Hannah was proving herself to be very level-headed in this whole Joseph-Tara and now Aiden situation. They could have done with her opinion.
“Where is he?” Layla muttered a
gain. “I need to find him.”
Penny wondered if she might start pacing the hallway this time, but she didn’t. Instead, Layla swung around to face her.
“Do you think he’s with her? With Tara?”
“Joseph or Aiden?”
“Joseph, of course. I’ve just told you, Aiden doesn’t know she’s even here.”
“I…I don’t know. Try his phone again.”
Layla did. The call went straight to answer phone as it had done previously. “Bugger,” she swore. “Where is he?”
Tea, thought Penny, panicking slightly. She’d make more tea, that panacea for all ills. Just as she did, Layla rushed out of the front door.
“Hey, where are you going?” Penny called after her.
“To check something. I won’t be long.”
Within minutes, Layla was back.
“As I thought. The Defender, it’s not there. He has gone to Tara’s. I know it.” Slumping back down at the kitchen table, Layla let her head fall into her hands. “What’s he doing there? And how early did he go? I was awake at eight forty-five.”
Penny could voice why, but what if she was wrong? Although, she had to admit, Joseph had reacted strangely when she had let slip that Tara had been sick the previous day, very strangely indeed. Could it be something had happened between them during the month she’d been in Florence? That it had had repercussions? Perhaps Joseph had only suspected she was pregnant, but at the mention of her sickness, he knew it to be likely, rushing over there as soon as he could to confirm it. Or could the baby be Aiden’s? Or possibly even someone else’s, hence her running from Aiden. Ugh. The scenarios running round in her head, there were just too many.
“Sorry, Penny.” Layla was rising again, tears in her eyes, her second cup of tea untouched. “Do you mind? I…I just need a bit of time on my own to try and work out what’s going on. I’m so confused. I’ll be in my bedroom if you need me.”
Penny watched her go, hating to see how dejected she looked. Bloody Joseph, bloody Tara. What the hell were they up to? How could a man change so much and so quickly? Besotted with one woman one minute, falling over another the next. Were they all like Alex underneath, even Richard? Suddenly she felt like crying too.
The Runaway Ex Page 18
