Fourteen days went by, and she heard nothing from him. He wasn’t updating his blog. He wasn’t posting to social media. It was like he’d disappeared.
Fourteen days in Canada had gone by in the blink of an eye, and yet fourteen days back in Oxford felt like an eternity. And Beth couldn’t understand why her feelings for Blake had grown so quickly and yet refused to fade.
Two weeks after leaving Toronto, she felt just as raw and devastated as she had then.
And now the day was approaching when she’d discover who had won the competition. Emily had emailed to say that any day now the judges should be making their decision, but Beth almost emailed her back saying not to bother; she knew Blake would be the winner. She’d known it from the start.
She was standing in front of her bedroom mirror, wondering whether she could get away with another day of not washing her hair, when she heard the doorbell ring downstairs. Peeking out of her bedroom window, she stepped quickly back behind the curtain when she saw who it was; it was Harry. Dressed in his customary work suit, despite the fact it was Monday and he didn’t work Mondays, he stood stiffly on the doorstep as if he was waiting for an interview.
Without letting herself be seen, Beth opened the window a little and shouted, “I’ll be right down.” Then she hurriedly swapped her pyjamas for jeans and a white sweater, scraped her hair back into a ponytail, and went to let him in.
Sitting at the kitchen table, Harry somehow looked different. His face wasn’t as familiar as it had been, and there was something strange in his expression that she hadn’t seen before.
Beth handed him a coffee and sat down opposite him.
“Welcome home,” he said, with a thin but sincere smile.
“Thanks.”
“I followed your trip on the Nomad blog. I read your articles. They were great, Beth. Really great.”
Beth shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Thank you. I didn’t expect you to read them.”
Harry blinked at her. “Of course I read them.” Then he sighed. “Beth, I’m so sorry.”
For a moment, Beth’s stomach tightened and she found herself praying that Harry wasn’t about to try and get back together. But then he said, “I think for a while now we’ve both known things weren’t right. But we shouldn’t have talked about it on the phone.”
Beth exhaled slowly and nodded. “I know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out the way it did, or when it did.”
Harry lifted his hand to stop her talking. “Please don’t apologise.”
She didn’t. And then for a couple of too-long seconds neither of them spoke. “I still care about you, Harry.” She said the words quietly, without looking at him. “We just want–”
“Different things,” he finished.
Beth looked up and Harry smiled at her.
“It doesn’t make us bad people, Beth. I want stability and you want excitement. I want to settle down in Oxford, you want to see the world. And for too long we’ve been trying to change one another. That’s not what love is about. Love is...” he stopped, chewing his lip as he tried to think of how to finish his sentence.
“Love is about finding your missing piece. The one person whose dreams fit with yours. Who makes you feel like anything is possible.” Beth tried not to let her voice waver as she remembered the way Blake had looked when he said those words.
“Yes,” said Harry. “I suppose it is.”
Harry didn’t stay at the house long. He drank his coffee, agreed that when the dust had settled they could try to be friends, and then left to go and scope out potential new premises for Cooper’s new branch.
After he’d gone, Beth went to her father’s writing shed. And this time, for the first time since she was a little girl, she sat in his green armchair.
Curling her feet up beneath her, she looked up at his postcards and maps and cut-out newspaper clippings of book reviews. “Oh Dad,” she whispered. “If you were here, you’d know how to fix this. I know you would.”
Instinctively, she reached for her necklace and when her fingers met with nothing but the cool skin below her throat, she winced.
“I’m so sorry I lost it.”
She sighed and leaned back into the softness of the chair.
“Dad, if I’m meant to be with Blake... give me a sign? Just a little sign?”
She sat for a moment, watching for a ray of sunlight, or a butterfly, or a white feather that she could label a message from her father. But nothing came.
She might have started crying again, but the crunch of footsteps on the gravel driveway made her stand and stick her upper body out into the garden.
Bobbing above the garden fence, she could just make out the head of their postman.
“Paul?” She walked over to the fence and climbed up on a garden chair.
“Oh Beth, I was about to leave this with a neighbour. Just an envelope, but it’s a special delivery so needs to be signed for.”
Beth reached up and squiggled her name on Paul’s electronic pad. Then he handed her a small brown envelope and continued on his round.
Turning it over in her hands, Beth took the envelope back into the shed and sat down on the edge of her dad’s armchair.
She didn’t recognise the handwriting. But the stamp said: TORONTO.
Her fingers trembled as she peeled back the sealed flap on the back of the envelope. She reached inside and drew out a bundle of what looked like postcards, tied together with an elastic band.
Slowly, she removed it. The first postcard was from Jasper, the picture on the front showing the infamous aerial tramway as it glided up into the mountains. On the other side, handwritten, was the message:
Dear Beth.
Maybe I won’t ever give you this. Maybe it will stay hidden and secret for the rest of our days because it’s just a little bit crazy. But maybe not. Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to tell you that today is the day I fell in love with you.
I’m not the world’s greatest romantic. In fact, as you know, my main tactic when I like a girl is to be mean and sarcastic and make an idiot of myself.
But today something changed. And I want to remember it. Forever.
Yours,
Blake
Beth was gripping the postcard so tightly that her fingernails were leaving little moon-shaped impressions on its surface. But this wasn’t the only one. There were more.
She leafed through them. One for every place they’d visited after they left Jasper.
The Canadian Train
Dear Beth,
I can’t think of anything better than being on a train with you for four days. Maybe by the end of this trip I’ll have changed your mind about me. Here’s hoping.
So much more than your friend,
Blake
Edmonton
Dear Beth,
You looked beautiful today. You are impulsive, disorganised, and insanely talented with your words and your camera. I think you’re starting to like me. Maybe one day we’ll do a Doris and Mike and plan a ridiculously impromptu wedding?
Blake
Winnipeg
Dear Beth,
Of all the things I thought I’d do on this trip, walking an eighty-five year old down the aisle for her shotgun wedding was not one of them. But it was probably the most wonderful thing I’ve ever witnessed. Seeing Doris and Mike loving each other so much, and taking such a huge risk, made me feel like maybe there’s hope for you and me? Maybe it’s not crazy to love someone you’ve only known for a handful of days?
Blake
The Sky Dome
Dear Beth,
If I was a romantic guy, I’d have planned the sky dome and the stars and our first proper kiss. But I’m hopeless at romance, so I winged it. And, hey, it seems it turned out pretty good.
Kissing you under the stars will stay with me forever, even if you never love me back and leave me alone and heartbroken and unfit for loving another woman as long as I live.
No pressure.
&n
bsp; Blake
Toronto
Dear Beth,
We are almost done. I haven’t told you how I feel about you. I haven’t asked you the question I’m dying to ask you. I’m a coward. Perhaps I’ll just give you these postcards and let them do the talking for me. Or perhaps I’ll chicken out and regret it forever.
Blake
Niagara-on-the-Lake
Dear Beth,
You’ve been gone for over a week. And I’m sitting here in my parents’ living room, still missing you, still head-over-heels in love with you.
I know you think I was going to use what I wrote about you for my article. I would never do that. If I’d been honest with you about my feelings, maybe you’d have trusted me. But maybe you wouldn’t. I was kind of a jerk for sixty percent of our trip.
I hope the gesture enclosed in this envelope will show you that deep down I’m a good guy. The kind of guy who would go to the ends of the earth for you (it did take three trips on The Maiden of the Mist and an almost-illegal climb to an out-of-bounds, potentially fatal, cluster of rocks to find but, you know, no pressure to be impressed.)
Yours, if you’ll have me,
Blake
With shaking hands, Beth set down the postcards and peered inside the envelope.
At the bottom, there was a small blue velvet pouch. She lifted it out and prised it open.
And there it was - her necklace. The one she thought she’d never see again. Holding it in the palm of her hand, her heart began to swell. A small fragment was broken. A little piece was missing. A piece that was still at Niagara.
Slowly, a grin spread over Beth’s face. She stood up, spread out her arms, looked up towards the heavens and shouted, “Thank you, Dad! Thank you!” Then she whispered, “That’s one heck of a sign, old man. One heck of a sign.”
23
Beth’s phone was buzzing. Wearily, she opened her eyes and fumbled for it on her bedside table.
It wasn’t there, but it was still buzzing. Feeling a little frantic, she started to search under her pillows and beneath the quilt. But she still couldn’t find it.
She’d stayed up until midnight so she could try and call Blake, but again and again she’d gone straight to his voicemail and, eventually, at two a.m. she’d given up.
She couldn’t miss his call. She just couldn’t.
The phone stopped and Beth angrily got out of bed and started pulling off the bed sheets, looking underneath it and all around it.
But then Mum was at her door, knocking. “Beth! Beth!” She ran in, waving the home-phone.
“Is it Blake?” Beth dashed forwards, but then realised there was no way Blake would know her landline number.
Mum was holding the phone in her right hand and gesticulating wildly with her left. She was mouthing something but Beth couldn’t work out what it was and, eventually, her mother simply shoved the phone at her and forced her to press it to her ear.
“Hello? Beth?”
“Yes.” Beth recognised the voice. “Emily?”
“I’m so glad I got hold of you. I tried your cell but there was no answer.”
Beth started pacing up and down, unable to keep still. “Sorry, I heard it ring but I couldn’t find it.”
“Oh, don’t say sorry. It’s no matter. But I do have some very important news.”
Beth looked up at her mother, who was practically jigging from foot to foot, wide-eyed, trying to read Beth’s expression. “News?” Beth’s throat tightened.
“We have the results of the competition. I’m sorry it took us so long to get in touch. As you know, we analysed engagement on both yours and Blake’s posts. And, well, it was amazing really, there was barely a percentage difference between you.”
“Really?” Beth had been certain that Blake’s numbers would blow hers out of the water.
“Really. It was incredibly close. So close that the judges had quite a tough time choosing a winner.”
Beth sucked air past her teeth and puffed out her chest, bracing herself for the blow she knew was coming, the words she’d anticipated ever since she’d found out that Blake was the other finalist. Thank you for taking part, you came second.
“Beth?”
“Yes?”
“You’re our winner.”
For a long time, Beth and her mum squealed, jumped up and down, waved their arms in the air, and cried. In the midst of it all, Emily said she’d email more details and Beth flung the phone onto the bed triumphantly.
Finally, out of breath and trembling with adrenaline, Beth sank down on the floor beside her dressing table and shook her head. “I can’t believe it, Mum. I did it.”
Her mother sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “I knew you would.”
Then, slowly, the fizzing, popping, electric excitement she’d felt when Emily said the word ‘winner’ stared to fade. And Beth’s stomach tightened into a fierce knot. “This means...”
Mum looked at her and squeezed her knee. “It means you’re going to go travelling around the world.”
Beth swallowed hard, suddenly picturing her mother all alone, floating from room to room with no one to talk to, just memories of her father. “I can’t leave you,” she whispered.
“You absolutely can Beth Greenwood. In fact, you have to. This is not something you turn down.”
Standing up, Beth ran to her laptop, opened her emails and started searching for one from Emily. “It’s a ticket for two people. You could come with me,” she said, scanning the rules to see if there was some clause that said mothers weren’t allowed.
Behind her, Mum got up and placed her hands on Beth’s shoulders. “My darling girl, sit down. I’ve got something to tell you.”
Beth’s hands started to shake. The last time she’d heard those words, her parents had been telling her that Dad wouldn’t come home from the hospital. She turned around and grabbed hold of her mother’s hands.
Mum breathed in deeply and chewed the corner of her bottom lip. “Beth, I...”
“What is it?”
“I met someone.” Mum’s mouth curled into a soft, hesitant smile.
Beth frowned.
“He works at the hospital with me. He’s new. Well, not very new. He’s been there a year, but up to now we’ve just been friends.” Mum took out her phone and started swiping through her pictures. “Here, this is him - Greg. He’s very nice and, well, I like him. It’s early days and it might not go anywhere and I’m still full of so many mixed up feelings about your father, but he’s made me realise that I can still have a life.”
“So, you’re saying you can’t come with me because you want to stay with Greg?” Beth had thought about her mum meeting someone new, and how she’d feel about it. She’d always thought she would be angry, or upset, but now that it was happening she just felt confused.
“No, sweetheart. I’m saying I can’t come with you because this is your journey. I’m telling you about Greg because I want you to see that I’m doing okay. I’m not the same person I was – losing your father changed me. And it changed you too. So, maybe it’s time the two of us both learned a bit more about ourselves. Our new selves.”
“Can’t we learn together?” Beth swiped at her cheeks, which were already slick with tears.
Mum smiled. “Of course we can. We can Skype and email, we can write postcards, maybe I can even come visit you at one of your stops. Bali. Or the Maldives.” Mum laughed and kissed Beth’s forehead. “But I think you and I both know who you need to take with you on this trip. It’s just a question of whether you’re brave enough to ask him...”
24
THREE WEEKS LATER
Emily had arranged for them to meet at a trendy coffee shop in Central Toronto. Beth spotted her instantly - slick hair, bottle-green blazer, notepad in front of her and a cameraman beside her. She looked up and waved, beckoning Beth towards her.
Beth’s stomach tightened. Opposite Emily, in his characteristic checked shirt, Blake was n
ursing a large cappuccino and tapping his foot against the hard-wood floor. He turned his head. And as soon as he saw her, his eyes widened. He started to get up, then lingered awkwardly above his seat, looking from Beth to Emily and back to Beth as if he might be hallucinating.
Beth straightened her sweater, suddenly wishing she’d chosen something more glamourous. But finally, Blake stood up and walked towards her.
The cameraman shifted a little and Beth self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Beth? They didn’t say you were...” Blake straightened his shoulders and glanced at the camera, smiling. “They said it was the loser’s interview.”
“I’m afraid I asked them to say that. I wanted to surprise you.” They were standing no more than a foot apart but Beth could feel the warmth of his body vibrating towards her. She wanted to slip her hands into his, tuck herself under his chin, wrap her arms around him and breathe him in. Her voice was shaky. The freckles of green in his eyes were making her feel wobbly. And, all of a sudden, she felt horribly sure she was about to make a fool of herself.
Behind Blake, Emily nodded and mouthed, Go on...
Blake moved a little closer and lowered his voice. All around them, people were starting to shush one another, aware something significant was happening. “What are you doing here, Beth?”
“I won the competition.”
Blake laughed a little and his mouth spread into an ironic grin. “Well, yeah, I know. But there really was no need to come all the way to Canada and gloat... you could have sent an email.”
“I’m not here to gloat.”
Blake blinked at her, slowly. She could tell he was trying to keep up appearances - show everyone he was confident and unfazed. But his eyes softened as he looked at her in a way that told her he was shaking on the inside.
The True Love Travels Series Box Set Page 27
