by Toria Lyons
Sarah’s stomach was in knots so she let the other two finish the contents of the hip flask. She’d never really thought how she would feel witnessing Tom getting injured; he could so easily be the confused, muddied player the paramedics were coaxing into the ambulance – or even unluckier. A part of her wanted to sprint to the pitch, and to the bench on which he dejectedly sat. She wanted to hug him, feel the vital warmth of him, check for herself that he was OK. Potential embarrassment kept her in place; she was only his girlfriend and wouldn’t even be that for much longer.
By the time the three had hurried through the rain to the other side of the pitch, the try had been converted and the whistle blown for full time. Lindsay tried to escape straight away but Sarah and Clare wouldn’t let her.
‘Alex knows you’re here now; so does Tom and you can’t run away from both of them.’ Clare blocked her from leaving.
‘Clare’s right,’ said Sarah. ‘If you’re going to be a regular here, you have to stick around. And I’ll need a woman to keep me company while she’s off gallivanting in Italy.’
‘OK, OK. I’ll stay here for another hour. I need to apologise –’
‘No, you don’t,’ cut in Sarah. ‘There’s nothing to apologise for. Apart from it’s your round and you haven’t got it in yet.’
Lindsay laughed, breaking the tension. ‘I’m off to the bar, then. But I will try to clear the air.’
‘Only if you feel you need to. Mine’s a soda, though, please – I can’t face any more whisky.’
Alex was one of the first to appear from the changing rooms. It was obvious he’d dressed in a hurry: his collar was askew and his hair still dripping wet from the shower. He searched the room, spotting Lindsay’s bright hair in seconds, and made his way over.
‘Lindsay, I’m so glad you’re still here. Hi, Sarah, Clare.’ He nodded at them both, his gaze lingering for slightly longer on Clare. ‘Would you two mind if I borrowed Lindsay for a while?’
Sarah and Clare shook their heads and Alex escorted Lindsay outside, where the rain had now stopped. They watched through the windows as the scrum half and his nearly sister-in-law sat alone on a sheltered bench. Alex put his arm around Lindsay’s shoulders and touched her cheek as the couple spoke in earnest.
‘We shouldn’t really spy on them, you know,’ said Clare. She and Sarah promptly turned their backs although Clare continued glancing over and remarked in surprise, ‘Wow, though. I’ve never seen him like that. It’s as if he’s a different person. Must. Not. Watch.’
Sarah stared glumly at the long glass she was sipping from. ‘I’m worried about Tom. His knee injury looked bad; I hope he hasn’t blown his ligaments.’
‘He’ll be fine.’ Clare gave her arm a reassuring rub. ‘So, what are we going to get up to in Italy?’
They talked about their plans for New Year while Sarah waited impatiently to see Tom come out. It was a further 40 minutes before he limped out of the changing room on crutches. Lines of pain were drawn across his whitened face but he managed to grimace a smile at Sarah, who rushed over to take his bag from his shoulder.
‘You should’ve got someone to help you,’ she admonished him. ‘Do you need to go to hospital?’ She pulled out a chair from a nearby table and forced him down into it. Tom wrapped his arms around her and gently pulled her down onto his good knee.
‘Not when I’ve got my own Nurse Sarah. Who hopefully is sober enough either to drive me home or kidnap me and take me to her boudoir?’
Sarah thought for several moments before she answered. ‘I can drive in a couple of hours – I only had a few of sips of whisky earlier, during the match.’ Her eyes glinted. ‘It must be bad if you’re saying you can’t drive.’
He pulled a key fob out of his pocket and handed it over. ‘You’ll be disappointed it’s the Audi I brought today, not the Aston Martin.’
‘Dreadfully – I’ll have to pinch your keys another time to drive the monster.’ Enjoying his warmth around her, something inside her eased slightly; he was OK. She brushed his hair lightly. ‘Seriously, how is it?’
‘It’s just a bad sprain. I’ll probably be out over Christmas and New Year. It means we can have a proper Hogmanay up at my father’s place in Scotland instead of them coming down here. If you don’t mind going up there, of course.’
Sarah’s heart dropped. ‘I – I’ve already made plans for New Year.’ She felt Tom stiffen beneath her. ‘I’m going to see Clare in Italy. She’ll be on her own for both Christmas and New Year otherwise. I’m going to fly out after Boxing Day and stay with her, keep her company. There’s a sofa bed in the flat. I’ll make a week of it; I can do some work out there too.’ Sarah cut off her prattle on seeing Tom’s stormy scowl.
‘So, let me get this straight, I won’t see you for the entire holiday period? You’ll be going to Wales for Christmas and Italy straight after?’
‘Umm, I’m afraid so. I’m sorry.’ Sarah went to kiss him but he pulled away. Her heart dropped even further. She took a breath, about to tell him she’d spend more time with him when she remembered her resolution. No New Year, no meeting his family, she chanted silently to herself. Her eyes started prickling; her decision had started to hurt already.
Some more of the players filed through and gathered near Tom, a few looking anxious to speak with him. His attention was soon diverted and a downbeat Sarah made her excuses and went off to find Clare and Lindsay.
‘How is he?’ Clare welcomed Sarah back into the fold of supporters.
‘Out for a few weeks. Wanted to take me to Scotland for Hogmanay but I told him I was busy already. I don’t think he’s happy.’
‘If you want to go with him, go. I don’t mind. I’ll hopefully be out there again in the summer and you can visit me then.’ Clare watched with concern as the tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes.
‘No,’ whispered Sarah hoarsely, battling the tears. ‘He’s going to break up with me in the new year anyway. At least this is under my control.’ She smiled and gathered herself. ‘Besides, we’ll have more fun.’
Clare was shocked. ‘How do you know that he’s going to break up with you?’
‘Something I heard in his office, and I suspect his interest in me will have run its course. I heard he asked another girl out.’
‘Are you sure about that? You’ve only officially been going out for a couple of weeks and I have the impression he’s pretty into you. The whole time he’s been talking to the other players, he’s hardly taken his eyes off you. And he looks as if he’d charge over here now if it wasn’t for his knee.’
‘He’s just naturally possessive. Probably comes from being the older child,’ said Sarah dismissively.
‘I really think it must be a misunderstanding, but if you’re sure …’ Clare patted Sarah’s arm. ‘Come on, let’s find Lindsay. If she’s finished with Alex. What a mess that is; makes me quite glad I’m single.’ Clare’s laugh was hollow.
‘Makes me wish I was single. Things were so much simpler then.’
They found Lindsay happily chatting to Mike, with Alex nowhere in sight. Sarah refused an offer of a pint as she was now driving, and stuck to juice and soda water instead. As the evening wore on, she kept an eye on Tom; he tried to stand unaided a few times but the agony on his face was plain to see.
‘Sarah?’ Her attention returned to the conversation going on in front of her. ‘Lindsay’s off now. But we’ve persuaded her to come again.’ Clare grinned.
‘Great. Lindsay, next thing you know you’ll be travelling on away trips all over the UK. Do you need a lift?’
Lindsay shook her head. ‘No, Mike’s going in my direction. Thanks, though. I’m so glad I got to speak with Alex again. And I’m so sorry about Tom’s knee.’ She started to pull her coat on.
‘It was going to happen sooner or later – don’t worry,’ Sarah reassured her. ‘It won’t slow him down for long. Although tonight, I think he’s had enough. Take care.’
As they left, Sarah wandered back to Tom wh
o was still attempting to place his weight on both legs.
‘Stop doing that: it looks painful, even from the other side of the club.’
Tom lifted his head and glared at Sarah.
‘And don’t take your frustrations out on me. Otherwise I’ll be leaving you here to make your own way home,’ she scolded him.
Tom finally sat and leant over to get his crutches. ‘Yes, miss.’ He rubbed the swollen knee. ‘Would you mind awfully if you took me home now, please? I was fancying a night out with the boys to celebrate that win, but I don’t think my knee will hold up.’
‘Home to your flat? Sounds like a sensible plan from you.’ She gathered his bag up and helped him back to his feet, then watched as he started walking with proficient swings. ‘You look like you’re used to them.’
‘Had enough practice after the last knee op. Lindsay off home?’
‘Getting a lift with Mike. He lives close to her.’ Sarah opened the doors for him and waved goodbye to the crowd left by the bar.
‘She looks so much like her bitch of a sister. I wish I’d warned Alex she would be here. Perhaps I would have saved myself all this. Or perhaps not: it’s been playing up for a few weeks. It’s such a shame …’ Tom’s voice petered out as they got into his Audi.
Sarah started the car and drove out onto the main road heading towards Central London. ‘What’s a shame? Alex’s failed engagement? The accident today? Your dodgy knee?’
‘All of the above. And that you can’t be with me for Christmas. Or Hogmanay. Never mind, we’ll have our Christmas Day later this week.’ Tom paused as if he was about to say more, but turned his head away to gaze at the night-lit scenery flashing past. ‘Are we going to my place, then?’
Sarah realised she hadn’t even thought to drive straight to her own flat. ‘I – you’ll probably be more comfortable there; there are steps up to my place and you’ve got a lift.’
‘Of course.’ He continued looking out of the window.
They finished the trip in awkward silence. Sarah helped him out of the vehicle again and got him up to the flat, to the bathroom and into bed. She stripped him: an exercise that would usually end with her beneath him, and him moving within her. This time something was missing; he didn’t catch hold of her. Instead, he lay back with one arm covering his eyes.
She went into the kitchen and grabbed an icepack and tea towel to wrap around his knee. He winced when it hit his puffy skin. ‘Too cold?’ she asked.
‘Needs to be done. I need an anti-inflammatory too; they’re in the bathroom cabinet.’
Without speaking, Sarah grabbed the pill he’d requested and handed it over with a glass of water and a strong painkiller she’d also found in the cupboard. He rose briefly and took them without comment. She sat on the corner of the bed as the uncomfortable silence grew.
Tom sighed wearily and ran his hands through his hair. ‘I’ll probably pass out soon from that pill you smuggled in. You can go home now. If you want,’ he said offhandedly. ‘Take the car – I’ll get someone to come and pick it up in a day or so, whenever’s convenient for you.’
A spear of pain pierced her heart. She nodded, unable to speak. This is what you expected, isn’t it? For him to lose interest. She got up to leave.
‘Sarah?’
She paused and turned to look at him. One arm was flung across his face again, covering his eyes. She was relieved he couldn’t see her brimming eyes or the tremor in her lips as, with difficulty, she choked back a soundless sob.
‘I – I didn’t mean that,’ he stammered. ‘I don’t want you to go. I think I must have also been thumped on the head today.’
Sarah was still too afraid to open her mouth. Silently, she undressed and pulled on a T-shirt of Tom’s, spent five minutes in the bathroom, then climbed into bed next to him, and turned the lights out. She lay on her side stiffly, facing away from him, listening to his breathing as it slowed and the painkiller knocked him out. He didn’t move towards her, make his usual effort to hold her or strip off the T-shirt. Hurt burned in her chest and the hot tears she’d been suppressing all day slowly escaped and dripped down onto the pillow.
Chapter Nine
Sarah clipped her seat belt in place; she was one of the first on the plane in first class. Upgrades were one of the bonuses of flying frequently and she appreciated the extra luxury, especially early on a Monday morning. As the rest of the passengers filed in, she settled back against the headrest and swiped a strand of hair out of her eyes.
A glint of light from her wrist made her focus on the bracelet she was wearing: a Christmas present from Tom that had come in a designer box. He’d said he’d thought of her when he’d seen it as the stones were shaped like rugby balls. He’d made love to her that night, making her cry out in ecstasy. He’d also been in constant touch over Christmas; he had given her a phone for Italy so he could pay for their long calls, and they’d spent so many hours talking that both her family and Clare had threatened to confiscate it.
However, Tom had been very quiet since she’d told him she was off to Lisbon for the week to assess a small group of hotels in and around the Portuguese capital. She’d finished off her recommendations for his father’s project and forwarded them to him. Now she was bracing herself for the break-up. She hadn’t seen him since Sunday morning, after he’d spent the first Saturday night since her return with her. He hadn’t been his usual attentive self and had taken a couple of private calls, lowering his voice and turning his back to her on each occasion.
Sarah was surprised by how much it had hurt to see him distance himself from her. She was so used to him being around her in the flat, holding her, sleeping with his arms around her, that when he pulled back, she had to fight herself, prevent herself from going after him. She had to concentrate on clamping her feelings down and remember that this was his way of breaking things off slowly.
An expensive leather holdall and suit carrier landed on the seat beside her. ‘Anyone sitting here?’ asked a familiar male voice.
Sarah looked up to see Tom grinning down at her. He leant over and placed a smacking kiss on her astonished mouth. ‘Wha – what on earth are you doing here?’
‘I have some business to sort out in Lisbon so I thought I’d join you for a few days. Didn’t you get my messages about a forthcoming surprise?’
‘What messages? But … You’ll miss training.’ A nodule of joy began uncurling in her chest.
‘My knee’s still playing up so I won’t be missing much.’ After taking out a sheaf of papers and a small, sleek laptop, Tom slung the rest of his belongings in the overhead lockers and sat down beside her. ‘There’s also a friendly match I’m going to in Lisbon on Wednesday night. You can come too. There’s a couple of players the chairman wants me to look out for.’
‘Where are you staying?’ Sarah still couldn’t believe he had turned up. Her eyes wouldn’t leave him even though she’d seen him the previous day.
‘Wherever you are, I hope. Once you let me know your itinerary.’ He grinned happily at her again. ‘You said you weren’t going to be staying too far out so anywhere’s good for me. I’ll cover the upgrade; it’s on my business anyway. And I may have a day assistant who’ll need working space.’ He patted her on the thigh, his hand reluctant to leave her. ‘So, where’s our first hotel?’
Sarah tried to ignore the sensations aroused by the brief touch of his hand and retrieved a document from the folder she’d brought with her. ‘This one’s right in the centre for my – our first night. The second and third hotels are in Estoril and Cascais up the coast. The last, for Thursday night, is further out, in an area to the north called Sintra.’ She bit her lip. ‘It may be too far out for you.’
‘That’s OK. Most of my business is at the start of the week. I should be free by then.’
‘Great. There’s loads of castles and sights to see so I’ve planned to take Friday off until the flight back in the evening. I’ve hired a car for the whole period, although public transport is
good.’
‘It’s all sorted, then. I’ll just sit back and relax and let you guide me.’ He settled back in his seat with the sheaf of papers, every now and again making a note on a document on his laptop. Sarah couldn’t resist peeking over his shoulder; the papers seemed to be summarising an emerging Portuguese multinational. She returned to her own work: the briefings on the properties she was assessing.
The flight passed quickly; the crew had soon come around with drinks and meals, and then, in no time, they were landing. They grabbed their hand luggage from the lockers and made their way to the car hire desk. While Sarah was upgrading their vehicle at Tom’s insistence, his phone rang and he disappeared, having a brief conversation out of hearing.
As Sarah signed for the vehicle and took the keys, she looked over to see where he was. His face was set in annoyance. She grabbed their bags and signalled she was going out of the door. He trailed after her, finishing his call in moments.
‘Problems?’ she asked over her shoulder.
‘Just with the secretarial support; I’ve left it with the London office to sort out. Let me take those.’ He caught up and took the cases from her.
The city of Lisbon was basking in winter sunshine. Due to the time she’d spent living abroad, Sarah took just seconds to adapt to driving on the right-hand side of the road. They cut through to the centre of the city and checked into the hotel. Tom also insisted on upgrading the room, even though Sarah was meant to assess the one into which she had already been booked. They went through a pantomime of entering her original room, looking around it, and then returning to reception for the upgrade. Once the exasperated concierge had shown them around their new suite and then departed, Sarah and Tom collapsed, laughing, onto the sofa.
