Twin Flames (Twin Flames #1)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Y ork, present day

Daniel Wetmore, Cara’s fiancé, booked a table for two at The Royal Oak on Goodramgate. Like much of York, The Royal Oak could have been transported back to the fifteenth century and wouldn’t look out of place. They ate in one of the quaint dining rooms towards the back of the pub.

Daniel’s law firm had opened an office in York ten years earlier, and he’d relocated from Manchester. He liked York but didn’t share Cara’s devotion to the city. For Daniel, Cara was the main attraction, and although he hadn’t mentioned his plan to her yet, he intended to persuade her to move to Manchester. He knew he would face an uphill struggle to prise her away from her beloved York but was counting on her understanding his desire to be near his children.

Oh lord!

Cara thought she glimpsed George through the alcove. Hold on; was it really him, or was she imagining it? She couldn’t be sure. But yes, there he was, near the bar. He was animated, and his hands cut through the air in bold strokes as he talked. She couldn’t see who was with him. Here he was, twice in three days. How odd.

Cara’s first thought was to pretend she hadn’t seen him. He may not spot her through the alcove; their table was tucked away from the main dining area. After all, it would be less awkward. Nothing had happened between them, but she felt irrationally guilty as if they were somehow intimate. But then again, they were intimate in her visions. Five hundred years ago, they were married, with two children. This was no schoolgirl crush. He was her husband! It was too much to take in. Cara avoided looking in his direction, trying to give Daniel her full attention but she struggled to register his words. She sank lower into the chair, praying George wouldn’t spot her.

A few minutes later, unable to resist, she shot a glance at the alcove. He was staring intently at her, a bemused look on his face. As he caught her eye, he smiled and waved before disappearing from view. She waited, like a mouse snagged in a trap, mouth dry, senses reeling.

George bounded into the small dining area, and their eyes met. An instant rush of happiness flooded through her, and she hoped it didn’t show on her face.

‘Hello, Cara, what a coincidence to see you again.’ He stood over their table, smiling, looking down at her.

Daniel, who was still explaining the intricacies of his somewhat dull day in court, toyed with his large glass of brandy. He looked up in surprise, unable to hide his irritation at the unexpected intrusion.

‘Daniel, this is George. George was kind enough to assist me the other day when I fell off the stepladder at the bookshop.’

Cara attempted a casual tone, but her chest beat faster than a tap dancer’s shoes. George stared at her quizzically as a light blush stung her cheeks. She turned her attention back to Daniel, tearing her eyes away from George.

‘George, this is Daniel.’ Then she added, ‘My fiancé,’ almost as an afterthought.

George raised his eyebrow, smiled and offered his hand to Daniel.

Daniel arranged his thin lips into a lukewarm response and shook George’s hand. The introduction lacked enthusiasm on both sides.

‘Great to see you, George. How strange we should run into each other again so soon,’ said Cara.

They exchanged a few more words before George made his excuses and left.

Cara’s favourite cheesecake tasted bland, and Daniel’s conversation flew over her head. Her eyes kept returning to the alcove in search of George, but she knew he had gone.

It was as if he’d never been there. She was hollow. What was usually a pleasant evening with her fiancé, was suddenly pointless. Would she ever see George again? The thought slipped into her mind as she tried to act normal.

Nothing would ever be the same. At that moment, she knew it was over for her and Daniel. It was only a question of when—the sudden realisation terrified her.

Daniel paid the bill and pulled out Cara’s chair as they prepared to leave.

‘He seemed like an interesting chap. You didn’t mention anything about meeting him.’

A slight frown furrowed his brow as he spoke.

‘We only met for a couple of minutes.’

They wandered outside into the cool night air.

‘How about you stay at mine tonight? It’s been ages,’ said Daniel.

Cara couldn’t muster the enthusiasm; she craved being alone and quashed Daniel’s suggestion.

‘I’m exhausted. I slept badly last night; the fall must have unsettled me. I have a morning meeting so I’d prefer to sleep at home and get an early one. You know I sleep best at my place.’

‘How about some company?’

‘That’s very sweet of you, but I wouldn’t be any fun tonight with this thumping headache. My eyes feel as though they’re about to shut any minute. I can’t wait to go to sleep.’

Cara laughed in an attempt to lighten the rejection. It was unkind, but she couldn’t face a night with Daniel amongst the jumbled chaos circulating in her mind.

She needed to be alone.

Cara had met Daniel when she’d attended a court hearing five years earlier, and he had pursued her. The initial friendship had grown into a steady relationship, championed by Daniel. Cara had been hesitant to get involved after a bad break-up, but Daniel was determined. He sent flowers every day. He wooed her with gifts and took her on a romantic trip to Paris. Cara was flattered by the attention, and she began to spend more time with him.

He was determined to marry her, but she was resistant and tried to keep things casual for as long as possible.

She was deeply fond of Daniel in a quiet, steady fashion, but she had no passionate urge to become his wife, and so was in no rush to reach the altar. They hadn’t yet set a date for the wedding. She’d agreed to marry him only because she didn’t want to lose what they had, and she had run out of acceptable reasons to delay. He was a difficult man to say no to. It was a good match on paper; they got on well and had similar values.

Daniel had three grown children from his previous marriage which suited Cara perfectly, although she wasn’t sure why. All she knew was that she lacked the motivation to have children which featured so prevalently in many of her female friends’ lives.

Daniel was successful, solid and set in his ways. He knew what he wanted, and he wanted Cara. Sometimes she suspected he viewed her as another sensible purchase, much like his investment portfolio. It didn’t trouble her. She appreciated him and was settled into their predictable life together. Until now.

The following morning her phone rang.

‘Hello?’ Cara knew intuitively it was George.

‘This is Cara.’

She pretended she had no idea who was calling. Her pulse raced, but you’d never have guessed from her tone. She was determined to be smoother in her exchange with him this time.

‘Hi. It’s George. It was quite the surprise to see you last night.’

‘Yes, it was.’

‘It seems we’re destined to keep bumping into each other. I was meaning to give you another quick call to see how you’re doing, after, what shall we call it: the bookshop blackout?’

He was delightful. She loved the rich, deep timbre of his voice. She found him incredibly sexy.

‘I’m embarrassed just at the thought. I still can’t believe I actually blacked out.’

George cleared his throat, ‘I was wondering whether you might fancy joining me for a spot of lunch today. I’m intrigued to hear more about your work. I thought that perhaps we might collaborate as there’s a definite synergy with what we do.’

A smile spread across Cara’s wide mouth. Then Daniel’s stern expression popped into her mind as she contemplated this dangerous but compelling invitation. She should decline; going out to lunch with a man to whom she was deeply attracted didn’t seem like a sensible move. Daniel had already been frosty about their previous meeting. There was no need to poke the bear and complicate matters.

‘I’d love to. What time and where shall we meet?’ The words rushed out before she could moderate them. The pull was irresistible. She was drawn to him. She couldn’t shake the mysterious visions of them together in another time and place. She must find out more about him, then and now.

‘How about The Star Inn on the river, as it’s such a beautiful day?’ said George.

‘Sounds perfect. I’ve not been there for years, but I remember it well.’

He said he would make reservations for a table overlooking the river and they agreed to meet outside.

Oh lord, I’m in trouble.

At the office, Cara oscillated between apprehension and excitement at the prospect of having lunch with him in a few hours. Anticipation bubbled within her, and she couldn’t concentrate.

The traffic was heavy, and her car hummed slowly through the narrow streets towards the river. She tapped her fingers on the leather steering wheel and looked at the crowds of tourists, chatting and taking photos. Her stomach had knitted itself into tight knots.

Cara pulled into the car park, a couple of minutes after one o’clock. She approached the restaurant. There he was, standing to one side of the entrance looking at his phone. He wore smart beige trousers and a crisp white shirt which set off his dark eyes perfectly. He looked up, smiling.

‘Sorry I’m a bit late,’ she said. ‘The traffic was awful. The tourist season has officially begun.’

‘No problem,’ he leaned towards her and planted a quick kiss on her warm cheek. He was freshly shaved and smelled divine. She wondered which aftershave he used.

‘They don’t make reservations for the terrace so we’ll have to take our chances,’ he beckoned her to go ahead as they entered the air-conditioned restaurant and joined the queue to be seated.

The warm afternoon sun bathed them in a comforting glow as they settled on the pretty, flowered terrace, near the historic Lendal Bridge. A canal boat was moored below, rocking gently to the rhythm of the river.

Cara scanned the menu. She was far too nervous to eat. She ordered a salad and a bottle of sparkling water.

‘Is that all you’re having? I’m absolutely ravenous.’

He ordered cod and chips.

‘I’m a vegetarian,’ she said.

‘Goodness, how thoughtless of me. I didn’t think to ask.’

‘No problem. I only want something light, anyway.’

‘Do you fancy a glass of wine?’ he said.

I fancy you.

She said, ‘Um… are you having one?’

‘Yes. I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay. Will you join me?’

‘Thank you, that sounds perfect. I’m driving, so only a small one please.’

A few minutes later they sipped the chilled wine and Cara experienced a shot of adrenalin. She assessed George, her smoky grey eyes discreetly appraising his face as he selected a piece of wholegrain bread from the basket.

The dishes arrived, and Cara noticed George’s beautiful hands. She was beginning to suspect everything about him was beautiful.

Lunch passed in a blur. They laughed at the slightest little remark, and there was no awkwardness between them as was so often the case with new acquaintances. Cara glanced at the clock and was shocked to see it was already half-past two. It was as though they’d only just sat down. She felt at ease in his company; almost as if they ate lunch together like this every day. She could tell instinctively it was the same for him. There was a warmth between them which needed no words.

Her mind flashed back to the prison scene. This wasn’t the first time they had eaten together.

‘How did you come to be in the manuscript business?’ she asked, between mouthfuls of salad.

‘The business has been in the family in one form or another, dating all the way back to Tudor times when it was established by order of King Henry VIII.’

‘It must be wonderful to have such a fascinating lineage,’ she said.

‘My ancestor, also called George Oliver Cavendish, was special advisor to the king. He and his team would track down and restore important manuscripts for the government’s political and religious initiatives. We still have a particularly impressive manuscript from that period on display here in our York workshop. The Queen honoured us with a visit not long ago.’

‘How fabulous. I’d like to see it one day.’

‘Yes, of course, come over to the workshop anytime. I’m proud of my family’s heritage as you can probably tell.’

George beamed, and Cara saw he had a dimple. How had she not noticed it before? She tried not to stare.

‘That’s lovely. It’s rare to find someone who is truly passionate about their work. I love my work too. I can’t imagine being in a world without history and books. How dull life would be.’

Their eyes locked for what seemed minutes but was no more than a couple of seconds. A tangible current passed between them. Cara’s phone rang from the depths of her handbag, and the trance was severed.

Daniel’s name flashed up on her phone screen.

‘I don’t know where the time’s gone. Do you need to get that?’ he said, his eyes probing hers.

‘No, it’s okay. It’s not urgent.’

Cara shoved her phone back into her handbag. She wouldn’t tell Daniel she was having lunch with George; partly because she didn’t understand what was going on, and partly because she was certain he would disapprove. And she wouldn’t blame him. No, best keep it to herself.

She didn’t want to miss a minute with George. This marvellous serendipity would be over soon enough, and she’d return to her busy yet rather mundane social life.

‘I’m off to Seville next week. I’m speaking at a conference,’ she said.

‘Really? What a coincidence! We have an office there, and I have a house in the city. It’s an amazing place.’

‘I’ve travelled to Spain a lot but have only been to Seville a couple of times. I’d love to see more of the city if I get a chance. You know how it is with these events; you end up travelling all over the world and only see the inside of hotel conference rooms.’

He knew exactly how it was. They discovered they had much in common through their work and had travelled to many of the same important cultural centres on the trail of historical research.

‘Isn’t it odd that we’ve never run into each other before?’ said Cara.

‘Yes, it’s strange, especially since we seem to know many of the same people.’

The conversation took a more personal turn, and Cara told him how her father had rescued her from a children’s home, and later adopted her.

‘What an incredible twist of fate. To think, you would have had an entirely different life but for the events of that one day. I sometimes wonder where I’d be now if I’d made different choices. I have a daughter. She can be a bit of a handful, like most teenagers, I suppose. But she’s quite wonderful. My wife assures me she’ll calm down soon enough.’

George’s innocent account of an everyday exchange with his wife twisted her gut. She felt as though she’d been knifed. His fingers were bare: he wore no wedding ring. She’d just assumed he was single.

Why did I think that? Because in my visions he’s married to me!

It was all wrong that he was married to someone else.

Cara took a slice of bread from the basket and poured too much olive oil on it. The excess dripped off the surface and splashed onto the table.

George grabbed a napkin and mopped up the mess.

She hoped he wouldn’t notice her gutted expression. She knew she wore her feelings on her face.

‘We were married in our early twenties,’ he continued, seemingly unaware of the effect his revelations were having on her.

‘Our parents were, in fact, still are close friends. They planned our marriage really. We were just kids. Joanna was my first proper girlfriend. It happened so fast. We thought we knew it all back then.’

Cara tried to look nonchalant.

What the hell!

Why hadn’t she considered the possibility he was married?

Well, you’re engaged, she berated herself.

It didn’t stop her having intense feelings for George. She didn’t want to volunteer any information about Daniel, but George asked how long they’d been engaged and she felt obliged to reply. She thought she saw a shadow cross his face but couldn’t be sure. Perhaps he was only interested in her in a professional capacity; he was married after all. It was immediately obvious they could collaborate to enhance their careers. They enjoyed each other’s company, and it seemed as though they would work harmoniously together. But Cara couldn’t shake the visions of them in another life. She briefly considered mentioning it to him but dismissed the notion. He’d think her insane. She glanced at the clock again. It was almost three. George noticed and signalled for the bill.

He touched her arm as they exited the restaurant. Her mouth was dry and she struggled to swallow.

‘Thanks so much for a lovely lunch,’ she said, trying to sound casual.

George escorted her to the door of her black BMW.

They stood together for a moment in the car park, neither knowing what to say but enjoying their proximity.

Cara forced herself to move away, and she slid into her car.

George closed the door after her and then poked his tousled head through the window. She was joyful in his presence. There was something about him that made her feel alive. The discovery that he was married hadn’t dimmed her feelings for him. He was her husband in another time.

Don’t be a fool, Cara.

‘May I call you?’ He sounded vulnerable.

Cara’s breath caught in her throat and before she could stop herself, her tongue betrayed reason, ‘Yes, absolutely. I’d love that.’

George leaned in to kiss her on the cheek for the second time in a few hours. The closeness of him and the touch of his lips on her skin sparked a primal yearning in her, which she hadn’t experienced in years. She didn’t want to say goodbye and suspected he didn’t either, but maybe she was imagining it. He would need to get back to work. He would need to get back to his wife and daughter.

He slipped his business card into her hand, and she saw the Seville office address in thick gold lettering. She pulled out of the car park after a final wave and smile in his direction.

Cara felt as though she’d boarded a runaway train and was hanging on to the sides in a desperate attempt to stay standing.