by Jessica Hart
Still, she had been lucky to find a job at all. She had left art college with such high hopes, but had soon discovered that it was tough to make a living as a potter in London. It hadn’t been long before she had settled for an office job to pay the rent while she worked on her pottery in the evenings and at weekends. Finding a gallery to show her work earlier that year had been her first step towards her longed-for career, but even that had folded now.
Sophie sighed. London was so expensive, too. It would be easier if she could go home to the moors—but even there jobs weren’t that easy to come by. And, she would never be able to earn enough for her own house, which meant that she would have to live at home, and she and her mother could barely manage a weekend without clashing.
No, living with her parents was not an option—and anyway, it wouldn’t change the real reason she hesitated about going home.
Nick.
She would be bound to bump into him all the time. At her parents’. In the supermarket. In the pub. The anguish of seeing him but not being able to touch him would be too much to bear.
So London it had to be. Except that she hated it here. All week it had been grey and miserable. The traffic seemed to be permanently jammed, exhaust fumes mingling in the grimy air with the sound of engines and blaring horns and distant sirens. There always seemed to be an alarm going off somewhere, ringing frantically while everyone else ignored it completely.
And all week Sophie had been gripped by a terrible homesickness. It was always there, like a low, persistent ache, but this week it had sharpened to a longing so acute she sometimes felt physically sick.
That was Bram’s fault. He had dangled the possibility of going home before her eyes, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She tidied up the remains of a takeaway in the flat’s cramped kitchen and thought about Haw Gill. The kitchen window in the flat had a view across grim yards to the back of an identical terrace; at Haw Gill you looked out onto a sweep of moor and a big Yorkshire sky.
She could be there. The thought niggled at Sophie. The kitchen at Haw Gill could be hers.
If she married Bram.
It had been the right decision to say no, Sophie told herself endlessly. To marry him without love would be using him, and she couldn’t do that to Bram.
But what if he was right? What if he never met that special woman she had wished for him? What if he decided to settle for second best after all, since he couldn’t have Melissa? What if he looked at someone like Vicky Manning and decided that she would do?
That was the thought that really rankled with Sophie. She kept remembering what her mother had said about Vicky making a good farmer’s wife. Vicky wouldn’t complain about life on the moors, but Bram would be bored to death in a year, Sophie was sure. He would be too loyal to do anything about it, though, and then he’d be stuck with Vicky for life.
At least she could save him from that fate. She might not be his perfect woman, but she would be a better wife for him than Vicky.
And she could go home.
And she would be able to face Nick and Melissa.
It all made sense…didn’t it?
Her flatmate, Ella, was all for it. ‘Why on earth did you say no?’ she had demanded when Sophie had told her about Bram’s proposition. ‘It seems to me that marrying this Bram would solve all your problems. You could go back to your moors, you wouldn’t have to find another job, it would get your mother off your back, and, most importantly, it would be one in the eye for that slimeball who dumped you for your sister!’
‘He’s not a slimeball,’ Sophie had protested, as she always did, but Ella refused to listen to a good word about Nick.
‘He didn’t do right by you,’ she would insist to Sophie. ‘If he’d fallen in love with Melissa he shouldn’t have made it obvious until he’d had a chance to talk to you. Instead, he let you do all his dirty work. Nick goes on and on about what a great guy he is, but if you ask me, he’s not a gentleman!’
Which always sounded odd coming from someone with a nose stud and pierced eyebrows.
‘I couldn’t marry Bram,’ Sophie tried to explain later that Friday night, as they sat over a bottle of wine, both of them unable to afford to go out. ‘He’s my oldest friend.’
‘So? There’s nothing in the rule book that says you can’t marry an old friend. Friendship ought to be a plus. Is there something wrong with him?’
‘Of course not!’
‘No spitty lips? No hairy nostrils?’
Sophie couldn’t help laughing. ‘No!’
‘So what does he look like?’ asked Ella, leaning precariously from the armchair where she was sprawled to fill up Sophie’s glass on the floor.
‘Bram? He’s nothing special.’ Just for a moment Sophie thought of Bram’s blue eyes, of the warmth of his slow smile, of his air of solid strength. ‘But he’s not ugly either. He’s just…Bram.’
‘Hmm.’ Ella wriggled back into a comfortable position and eyed Sophie over her glass. ‘And have the two of you ever…you know?’
‘No!’ Sophie squirmed uncomfortably at the thought.
‘Not even a kiss?’
‘No.’
‘I can’t believe you never even thought about it,’ said Ella sceptically. ‘I mean, the two of you up there on the moors…he’s a man, you’re a woman…you’re both single…neither of you are grotesque…you must have imagined what it would be like!’
‘No, we haven’t,’ said Sophie firmly. ‘Bram and I really are just good friends. There’s never been any question of…you know, anything physical. Anyway, he’s in love with Melissa.’
‘Not that much in love with her if he’s offered to marry you,’ Ella pointed out.
‘He’s only done that because he knows I’m not in love with him and I understand how he feels about Melissa.’
‘Well, if you don’t want him, and he needs consoling, maybe he’d like to marry me,’ sighed Ella. ‘I wouldn’t mind a hunky farmer.’
Sophie knew her friend was joking, but a little part of her bristled at the very idea of Ella and Bram together. That really would be all wrong.
‘I don’t think you’d like being a farmer’s wife,’ she said, as lightly as she could. ‘You have to get up very early. Anyway, what about Steve? I thought you wanted to marry him?’
Ella’s face darkened. ‘Don’t mention his name to me! He thinks he can come and go as he pleases. And if that’s Mr Lack-of-Commitment now,’ she added as the phone began to ring, ‘tell him I’m out!’
‘Are you sure?’ Sophie looked doubtful. Ella had been keen on Steve for a very long time.
‘Yes. I’m not going to come running whenever he whistles any more. Let him learn what it feels like for a change!’
‘OK.’ Obediently, Sophie leant down from the sofa and reached for the cordless phone—which had been left on the floor as usual. It was just too far away to get at easily, and she had to practically roll off the sofa to scrabble at it with her fingers, but at last it was within her grasp.
‘Hello?’
‘Sophie, it’s Melissa.’
‘Mel!’ Sophie’s heart sank. She loved her sister dearly, but conversations with her now were often difficult. Melissa had a tendency to get tearful, and was so bound up in guilt about what she called ‘stealing’ Nick from Sophie that Sophie was usually exhausted from the effort of making her feel better by the time she put down the phone. She simply didn’t have the energy to be bouncy and positive tonight, but if she wasn’t Melissa would accuse her of being depressed because of Nick and feel even worse.
‘How are you?’ she asked, fixing on a bright smile to make her voice sound better.
‘I’m fine.’
‘And Nick?’ she made herself ask.
‘He’s great,’ said Melissa, although Sophie thought she sounded faintly on edge. ‘He’s away this weekend, climbing in Scotland. He’s leading a group,’ she explained. ‘Well, he’s not the official leader, but they like him to go along because he’s so exper
ienced.’
OK, thought Sophie. She could practically hear Nick saying that, but it didn’t explain the tension in her sister’s voice. Surely she didn’t suspect Nick of using the climbing trip as a cover for meeting another woman? How could Nick even think of looking at anyone else when he had Melissa?
‘He sends his love,’ said Melissa dutifully.
Did he, now? Sophie couldn’t prevent the clench of her heart at the thought of Nick’s love. She could quite imagine him gaily telling Melissa to send his love to her sister, without even thinking how she would feel to hear his love passed on at second hand.
‘So,’ she said brightly, ‘what’s new?’
‘Oh, nothing, really,’ said Melissa with a faint sigh. ‘I was just ringing about Dad’s birthday. Mum’s so thrilled that you’re coming after all. She was afraid you’d make another excuse, and I didn’t want to have to tell them why you feel uncomfortable about being at Glebe Farm when Nick and I are there.
‘I think it’s wonderful of you to come,’ Melissa went on. ‘It’ll mean so much to Dad, too. I just…just hope it’s not going to be too difficult for you.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Sophie, trying to ward off the inevitable guilty spiel.
‘You always say that,’ said Melissa desperately, ‘but I know you’re just being brave. Nick knows too. He really understands how hard it’ll be for you to meet him again. He knows how much you loved him, and I do too, of course…
‘Oh, Sophie,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘I so wish things could have been different! You’re such a wonderful person, and you deserve to be happy. I can’t bear the thought of you on your own.’
‘Melissa, I’m fine,’ said Sophie wearily. ‘Really I am. I’ve moved on. Honestly, I hardly think about Nick any more.’
A lie, of course, but Melissa wasn’t to know that.
‘But you’re still on your own. We’ll be sitting on one side of the table at Christmas lunch and you’ll be on the other, and it’s just going to be awful for you, I know it,’ said Melissa, on the verge of tears.
Sophie set her jaw. ‘I won’t be on my own, Mel. Bram will be there.’
‘It’s not the same,’ she said stubbornly. ‘I don’t mean it won’t be lovely to have him there,’ Melissa added, as if afraid that she had been rude. ‘He’s so nice, and such a good friend, and he must be missing Molly a lot. Is it true that he’s seeing Vicky Manning now? Did he tell you?’
‘What?’ Sophie sat up straight.
‘Nick said that he saw them in the pub together the other night. I suppose you heard about her wedding being called off?’
‘Yes, Mum told me,’ said Sophie slowly. She was usually the only person who went to the pub with Bram. What was he doing there with Vicky?
‘It must be awful for her, poor thing,’ Melissa said. ‘And so humiliating. I think she’s being really brave about it. Apparently she’s telling everyone that she just has to accept what’s happened and get on with her life. I’m not sure I’d have been able to do that if my fiancé had dumped me just before—’
She broke off, realising too late what she had said. ‘Oh, Sophie, I’m sorry,’ she wailed. ‘I didn’t think…’
‘It’s all right, Melissa, honestly.’ Sophie would say anything to stop her sister dissolving into tears again. ‘Tell Vicky to look at me.’
And tell her to leave Bram alone, she added mentally.
‘At you?’
‘I’m living proof that life goes on and that you can be happy again,’ said Sophie, injecting as much happiness as she could into her voice. ‘And so is Bram. Remember how upset he was when you broke off your engagement? But look at him now. He’s fine.’
Even if he hadn’t ever got over Melissa properly. That was something else she wouldn’t tell Melissa.
‘I suppose so.’ Melissa didn’t sound convinced, so perhaps she knew Bram better than Sophie thought she did. Well, she had been engaged to him, hadn’t she?
‘I wish he could find someone else,’ she went on with a sigh. Bram was another person Melissa spent a lot of time feeling guilty about. ‘I hope it works out with Vicky. Nick said he certainly looked as if he was keen.’
Oh, did he? Sophie thought furiously. Bram had no business looking keen on Vicky barely a few days after he’d been suggesting marriage to her!
‘Of course it’s probably still a bit soon for Vicky,’ Melissa was rambling on, unaware of Sophie’s mental interjection. ‘But I think they’d be good together, don’t you?’
‘Bram and Vicky?’ said Sophie incredulously. ‘No, I don’t!’
She could practically see Melissa’s perfect brow wrinkling in a puzzled expression. ‘But why not? They’re both so sweet-natured. Vicky would be perfect for Bram. She really knows what life is like on a hill farm, and she loves the moors. And Bram does need a wife,’ she reminded Sophie.
‘He may do,’ said Sophie, goaded, ‘but he’s not marrying Vicky. He’s marrying me!’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘YOU’VE done it now,’ said Ella, when Sophie finally managed to get Melissa off the phone.
‘I don’t care,’ said Sophie stoutly, although actually she was beginning to feel a bit sick about what she had done. She told Ella what Melissa had said. ‘I couldn’t let her foist Vicky Manning on Bram like that!’
‘Aha, I thought that Vicky might be at the root of all this! You’re jealous of her.’
‘I am not,’ insisted Sophie. She tossed her head. ‘If you must know, I feel very sorry for her. It’s bad enough being dumped by your fiancé without everyone in the village rushing to set you up with the only available man. I mean, they were only having a drink in the pub. Bram’s the kind of guy who does buy you a drink if you’re lonely. He’s kind that way. It doesn’t mean he’s interested in her or that he’s going to marry her!’
‘But you wouldn’t like it if he did,’ said Ella shrewdly.
‘Only because she’s all wrong for him.’
Ella looked innocently at the ceiling. ‘The words dog and manger spring to mind,’ she said.
‘Look, Bram’s my best friend. I know what he needs, and it isn’t Vicky Manning!’
‘It isn’t you, either,’ Ella pointed out.
Sophie shifted uncomfortably. ‘I shouldn’t have said that we were getting married, should I?’ she admitted. ‘I wasn’t really thinking. It was just that Melissa was going on and on about how Bram was still on his own, and it was as if the whole village has already decided that he and Vicky might as well get together and tie up a couple of awkward loose ends.
‘Bram deserves better than that,’ she said, on the defensive now. ‘I suppose I got cross, and the words were out before I knew what I was going to say.’ She bit her lip. ‘I didn’t mean it.’
‘You’d better ring Melissa back, then, and tell her that.’
‘I can’t. She was so thrilled when I told her. She said that now we could all be happy, that Bram and I were perfect for each other, and on and on…I thought she was never going to stop telling me what wonderful news it was!’
Sophie grimaced, remembering her sister’s ecstasies. ‘If I tell her that I lied, she’ll want to know why, and what could I tell her? Whatever I say, she’ll just think it means that I was trying to compensate for losing Nick, and then she’ll get upset because that’ll convince her that I’m still not over him and it’s all her fault, and, really, I can’t go through all that again tonight!
‘She’s probably already on the phone to Mum, and Mum will tell Maggie Jackson, and once Maggie knows we might as well take out a full-page advertisement in the Askerby and District Gazette!’
Sophie put her head in her hands. ‘Oh, God, what have I done?’
‘Just got yourself engaged to your best friend without telling him,’ said Ella, who seemed to be enjoying Sophie’s predicament far more than a real friend ought to.
‘What shall I do?’ Sophie asked her, too appalled now at what she had done even to resent Ella’s good humo
ur.
‘Well, if you can’t face Melissa again, it sounds as if you’d better let Bram know what’s going on before the Askerby Gazette gets hold of it.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Sophie jerked up, propelling herself into action. ‘I’ll call him right now.’
She checked her watch. Just after ten. Farmers were notorious for going to bed early, and Bram was no exception, but she might still get him.
Reaching for the phone, she began stabbing at the numbers, but was in such a state that she got the code all wrong and had to start again.
‘What are you going to say to him?’ asked Ella. ‘You can’t just tell him that he’s marrying you!’
‘We don’t actually have to go through with it, do we?’ Sophie fortified herself with a gulp of wine and forced herself to dial more slowly. She was beginning to think more clearly. ‘We can just pretend we are until all the fuss dies down and then say that we’ve changed our minds. All Bram has to do is play along for a while. He’ll do that for me,’ she said, wishing that she felt as confident as she sounded.
She could imagine the phone ringing in the kitchen at Haw Gill. It usually sat on the dresser. If Bram was up, he should be able to get to it within two or three rings. But the phone rang on and on.
‘Please don’t have gone to bed, Bram,’ Sophie muttered. What was she going to do if she got the answer machine? It wasn’t the kind of thing you could leave as a message. Oh, by the way, I’ve told Melissa we’re getting married. Hope that’s OK. See you soon. Bye!
‘Haw Gill Farm.’
The sound of that deep, slow, steady voice left Sophie light-headed with relief.
‘Oh, thank God you’re there!’ she rushed in without preliminaries. ‘I’ve got to talk to you!’
‘Sophie?’
He sounded a little odd. ‘I didn’t wake you up, did I?’ she asked.
‘No…no.’ There was a distinct note of hesitation in his voice, though. ‘This isn’t a very good time,’ he added carefully.
‘What do you mean?’
Another slightly awkward pause. ‘Well…Vicky’s here.’
