by Melissa Hill
Just then, Toby let out an anguished cry, evidently unused to his mum and dad speaking to one another like this.
Liz wasn’t used to it either and, despite her sense of grievance, she hated that she was sounding like a nagging wife. But Emma’s comments earlier had really unnerved her, and she was determined to demand some kind of explanation.
But it seemed Eric was in no mood to oblige. “Look, it’s obvious you’re in some kind of a mood, but whatever is wrong with you, don’t go taking it out on me.” With that, he got up from the table and walked out of the kitchen, Toby still wailing in his wake.
Her mind racing, Liz got up to tend to her son and tried desperately to get a grip on her whirling thoughts and emotions. Why had Eric got so angry when she was the one who should be feeling hard done by? When she was the one who sat here alone on weeknights while he lived it up in the capital?
It had been mostly his idea to move to Castlegate in the first place after all. “It would be better for the baby and all the space around the cottage would be perfect for setting up your kennels,” he’d told her enthusiastically.
And yes, village life had indeed been better for Toby, and setting up the kennels had been a dream come true for Liz, but if living in Castlegate was so wonderful, why did it seem that Eric was lately coming up with more and more reasons to stay away from the village, to stay away from her and Toby?
Her son’s cries eventually abating, Liz slumped back down at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands. What was wrong with her? Why did she feel so insecure all of a sudden? Granted this underlying emotion had always been a problem where she was concerned, and she wasn’t sure why. She’d lost a few boyfriends over the years as a result, but since then had pretty much managed to keep it in check. And for the most part, she’d never really felt anything other than completely secure and happy when it came to Eric. For the most part.
Except when it came to Emma Harrington.
The idea of Eric and Emma together wouldn’t go away – however hard she tried.
It didn’t help that she had never been able to communicate her fears to anyone. Tara was her best friend but, of course, she couldn’t exactly voice her feelings about Emma to Tara, could she? Irrespective of their relationship, and in all fairness their relationship was pretty good, no girl in their right mind would bitch to her best friend about her sister, would they?
So, Liz stayed silent and never outwardly expressed her doubts and niggling feelings of jealousy. She’d never even properly investigated the reasons for Emma and Eric’s break-up. Instead she’d resolved to try and forget about the girl and get on with her own life.
But now something had been sparked off in her that for years she had tried to bury and which, since the news of Emma’s surprise pregnancy, had grown and flourished.
She had to get a hold of herself.
Liz took a deep breath and made an effort to think rationally.
There was nothing between Emma and Eric – nothing. So what if Emma had met him on a night out in Dublin? It wasn’t that big a city after all, and there was always a chance they could bump into one another, wasn’t there? And just because they’d bumped into one another didn’t mean they’d gone off and had a raging affair, did it? Liz felt her heart would shatter at the thought of Eric with somebody else. God, she’d drive herself crazy if she kept thinking like this! How had a simple smart comment from a girl who was known for her deviousness, and whom she didn’t like, almost sent her into convulsions of distrust and suspicion?
And why on earth had the news of Emma’s mystery pregnancy had such an effect on her? Emma could have a serious boyfriend in Dublin for all she knew. But deep down, Liz knew this wasn’t the case. Tara had been puzzled by her sister’s pregnancy primarily because she hadn’t been seeing anyone. And they had both considered the possibility that it might have been the result of a clandestine affair, perhaps with a married man.
But there was no reason, no reason at all, for her to think that this affair could have been with her own husband, was there?
Getting up from the table, Liz reached for a tissue and quickly wiped her eyes and nose. She had to snap out of this. She was being hysterical, over-emotional – completely unreasonable. Emma would be thrilled to see the damage she’d done, and all with a simple little throwaway remark. But it wasn’t a throwaway remark either, was it? No, Emma had known full well what she was doing, had known well that she was planting a seed of suspicion in Liz’s brain. And of course, any normal, well-adjusted, secure woman wouldn’t give it a second thought, would she? But when the woman in question was someone as basically insecure as she was, then . . .
“Honey, what’s the matter?” Eric reappeared in the doorway, concern written all over his face. “Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know,” Liz answered truthfully, her thoughts scattered all over the place as she tried to come to terms with her own feelings. “I don’t know why I went off on you like that and I’m sorry. I just . . . I suppose I just find it hard sometimes when you’re away from us, and I don’t like to think of you off enjoying yourself while you’re supposed to be working.”
“But I am working, love – and working very hard.” Eric moved across the room and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I thought we’d agreed that I’d put in the extra hours for a little while, so we can afford to get this extension built.”
She sniffed. “I know – and I’m sorry, but for some reason I keep having images of you out and about and living it up in the pubs and . . .” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m just being silly.”
“Yes, you are,” Eric said firmly. “So, are we friends again?”
“Of course we are,” she replied, resting her head against his chest and hugging him tightly.
Eric was her husband, the love of her life, the father of her son and the man she really should know better than to doubt. This mistrust, suspicion – there was no basis to any of it – it was all in her own stupid head!
Blast Emma Harrington! As far as Liz was concerned, if she never saw the girl again for as long as she lived, she’d be happy.
But that wasn’t very likely, was it? she thought worriedly. Not when Emma was back living in Castlegate and, according to Tara, was very likely back for good.
Chapter 9
Back home in London, Natalie unpacked her luggage and flung various items of clothing into the laundry basket. Despite the fact that she’d arrived at Heathrow a good two hours ago, she hadn’t yet heard from Steve. It was strange because she’d had visions of him waiting for her in the arrivals area, all handsome and smiling and ready to whisk her into his arms and off her feet, like something from An Officer and a Gentleman. But she’d scanned the crowds a few times upon arrival and there’d been no sign of him.
Despite herself, Natalie was beginning to worry. All throughout the holiday she hadn’t heard from Steve once, despite sending him a few texts asking him how he was and if he was missing her, but he hadn’t replied to any of them.
And of course she’d checked her answering machine on the way in and there was nothing on that from him either, just a series of messages from the office and a couple from her mum, who’d obviously forgotten she was away. Or had she told her? She couldn’t remember. These days she was so caught up in work (or indeed with Steve) that she’d barely had the time to talk to her mother. Oh well, she’d call Imogen later.
She smiled as she held up her favourite Roberto Cavalli dress, the one she’d been wearing the first night she’d met Tara and Glenn. She was so lucky to have met them; the holiday could very well have been a disaster otherwise. Well, lucky to have met Tara anyway – after the first day or two she hadn’t really seen that much of Glenn. He seemed just as nice, though, and didn’t seem to mind Tara gadding off to Cairo with some English stranger!
They were a good pair who obviously adored one another, though oddly they didn’t seem to have that much in common as far as their interests were concerned – she
with her pyramids, he with his scuba diving!
But Natalie envied the fact that the other woman would never be lonely with Glenn around – the two of them seemed blissfully happy together, and while Tara had admitted that people were constantly on at her to get married, she wasn’t at all bothered. It was a refreshing perspective, but also a little frustrating for someone like Natalie who would give anything to settle down with someone nice.
But, unlike Natalie, Tara had someone to come home to every evening. She didn’t know what it was like to return to an empty flat after a hard day’s work and have nothing but the four walls to complain to. So, she supposed it was easier for Tara to be flippant about her unmarried state.
Having unpacked her suitcase and sorted her clothes, Natalie padded barefoot out to the kitchen and rummaged around in the drawers for a takeaway menu. Although, she thought, there was something nice at the same time about being able to slob around in comfortable jog-suits, something she’d never be able to do if she were living with Steve. As far as she knew, he’d never seen her without make-up. Even when he stayed the night, she always made sure she removed her face only after sex, and as he usually snoozed till noon the following day, she usually had the war paint applied hours before he surfaced.
She picked up her mobile phone to order dinner from the local Chinese but, before she dialled the number, she once again checked her messages. Nothing from Steve.
Not a single reply to the messages she’d sent him while away. Granted, she’d only sent – what – one or two brief texts on arrival in Sharm and . . . oh God, Natalie realised, horrified, as she scrolled through her “Sent” folder, make that eleven or twelve! No, thirteen! How on earth had she managed that? All those late-night drinks with Tara had obviously loosened her fingers, because most of these were very definitely tipsy-texts. Yikes! Steve would think she’d gone mad. She’d better text him now and apologise and –
As if on cue, her phone beeped, and to her delight Steve’s name appeared on the screen. Yes! He must have been waiting for her to return home before contacting her. Actually, now that she thought about it, maybe it wasn’t possible to contact her through the mobile network in Egypt and that was why she hadn’t heard from him.
Excitedly she opened the message. Goody! With any luck she might see him tonight. OK, so she was dog-tired and if he called round the frumpy jog-suit would definitely have to go but . . .
Please stop stalking me.
Puzzled, Natalie stared at the message. Stalking? What was he on about? Then she smiled and rolled her eyes. This was obviously one of Steve’s little jokes. Still grinning, she hit the “Call” button and waited for his phone to ring. Her boyfriend could be a howl sometimes. But at least now she knew he was in a good mood and –
“Yes?”
Hearing him pick up on the other end, Natalie beamed. “Hi, darling, it’s me – I’m just back from –”
“Look, I’m sorry, but I really don’t have time for this now,” the object of her affection interjected shortly. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
Natalie blinked. “Steve, it’s me, Natalie.”
“I know bloody well who it is – unfortunately.” Steve groaned. “Look, Nat, I thought I made this clear last time.”
“Made what clear?”
He sighed. “Look, we had a few dates, and it was great but –”
Her heart began to thump. “But what?”
“But that’s it. We’re not really suited, you and me. I thought you understood that last week.”
“Understood what?”
Steve took a deep breath. “Look, you’re great and it’s been fun but –”
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she sensed what was coming, “But what?” she repeated timidly.
“Look, I just don’t think this is going anywhere.”
On his side, Natalie heard another phone ring in the background and guessed he must be at the office.
“Don’t be so silly,” she said, trying to keep her voice light, “of course it’s going somewhere. You have no idea how much I missed you while I was away and –”
“Yes, I do actually – I have all the sodding texts to prove it.”
“Right, well, I can explain those.” Natalie gave a little laugh. “That night, I’d had one drink too many so –”
“Natalie, I really don’t have time to discuss this,” he said, his tone now decidedly impatient. “As I said, I just don’t think we’re suited.”
Of course they were suited! She and Steve were great together – perfect together! How could he say that they weren’t? Natalie couldn’t believe this was happening. Again.
“But – but what about our holiday?” she spluttered. “If we ‘weren’t suited’, as you say, why did you agree to come on holiday with me?”
“What? I didn’t agree to anything! It was all your idea and you had it all arranged before you even asked me!” Steve sounded mightily put out. “Talk about railroading somebody!”
“Well, you could have let me know that you didn’t want to go instead of letting me down at the last minute like that!” she said, irked that he saw things in such a way. “I paid out a fortune for that holiday!”
Steve seemed to be struggling to hold his temper. “Natalie, I told you at the time that I would let you know if and when I had time to take a holiday and that we would then discuss it! But you didn’t listen. You just went right ahead and booked it anyway. Jesus, we barely know one another! In all my life I don’t think I’ve ever met a bird so pushy.”
Natalie’s heart sank. “We barely know one another? Steve, we’ve had sex at least a hundred times!”
“Yeah, well . . .” Steve paused for a minute, as if trying to think of the right words. “Look, Nat, as far as I’m concerned it was just that – sex. Maybe you thought it meant something more but . . .”
Natalie couldn’t remember ever feeling so low in her entire life. Just sex? What about love and companionship and all the things she thought they’d shared? How could it have been “just sex”?
“We weren’t a couple, Nat. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I thought you knew that – especially when I told you I wasn’t keen on that holiday, and I’d blown you . . . I mean, hadn’t seen you that much beforehand.”
“But I thought that was because you were busy with work! You told me you were busy with work! And I was busy too, so I thought the holiday would be a good opportunity for us both and . . .” Natalie couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence. She’d thought he’d be thrilled at the idea of the trip, delighted that she’d gone to such effort just for him. But obviously she’d been wrong. “Look, I’m really sorry that I sent you all those text messages when I was away,” she babbled quickly. “I was a bit tipsy at the time and I didn’t really mean it when I said you were the best thing that’s ever happened to me and –”
“Nat, look – it’s not going to work, OK?” Steve interjected, his voice softening somewhat. “You’re a great girl, but I’m just not ready for a relationship with – with anyone at the moment. There’s too much going on in my life right now.”
“Like what? Maybe I can help,” she replied eagerly, heartened by his change in tone. She could help him through whatever was going wrong in his life at the moment. That was what supportive girlfriends did, didn’t they? Yes, it would be perfect. They could put their passionate romance aside and she’d just concentrate on being Steve’s confidante, his shoulder to cry on, his rock of strength –
“I don’t need any help!” he said, becoming irritated once more. “Look, can’t you take a bloody hint? I don’t know where you got the idea that this was something serious. Yes, we had some good times together but –”
“Some good times together! Steve, we were –”
“Ah, Natalie, please just leave me alone, will you?” the object of her affection interjected once again. “Look, if I’d known you’d turn out to be some psycho bunny-boiler, I’d have run a mile! No man in their right minds would want all t
his crowding and neediness!”
She a bunny-boiler? Psycho bunny-boiler? What was he on about?
“But, Steve, how could I possibly crowd you when I hardly ever see you?” she snivelled, sounding even more desperate than she felt.
Steve sighed once more. “I’m sorry, but there’s no point in making this any harder for either of us. You’re a nice girl, Nat, but it’s just not meant to be. See you round.”
With that, he rang off, leaving her staring dumbly at the handset for what seemed like an age. What had happened to the grand homecoming she’d anticipated? The big love affair she’d described to Tara in Egypt? Had this really happened? Had Steve – the love of her life, the man she was supposed to marry – had he just dumped her?
She was eventually snapped out of her reverie by the ringing of the intercom. For a brief second, she wondered if it was Steve at the front door, if he had been playing an elaborate (and admittedly cruel) joke on her. But no, it was merely the deliveryman with her take-away.
Wishing that she’d ordered a fattening and much more comforting dish like fried rice and crispy duck in plum sauce instead of a boring and anaemic lowfat chow mein, Natalie went downstairs and dazedly paid the delivery man. Then, her appetite by then having completely deserted her, she went back upstairs and threw the whole lot in the bin, before finally throwing herself on the bed and crying her heart out.
The following morning, as she struggled to gather together enough make-up to cover her tearstained face and the dark circles under her eyes (despite her fabulous tan from the holiday), Natalie thought again about what Steve had said to her on the telephone the night before. His words had kept repeating themselves over and over in her head all night, but she’d been so upset that their relationship was over that she hadn’t been able to think clearly about any of it. Now, in the cold light of day, and having let all the hurt and anguish out, she was better able to consider everything somewhat more rationally.
