Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
When Marilise was in bed, I went downstairs, not yet ready to turn in, although I was tired after my busy day.
I went into the sitting room to watch some TV in the hope that it would stop my thoughts from racing out of control.
I had found a mindless but enjoyable programme about American estate agents, and was marvelling at how they managed to spend the whole day in their vertiginous shoes, when Nick came in.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
‘It’s okay,’ I replied, switching the programme off. ‘I couldn’t sleep, but I’m not invested in this. The girls did well tonight, didn’t they?’
He nodded and sat down next to me.
‘They were great. Look, I’m sorry about Eugenia. She shouldn’t have said any of that.’
I shrugged.
‘I’d already upset her over hairgate, so it doesn’t matter.’ I paused. ‘But she had a point, didn’t she? You are still planning to leave the country?’
‘And you’re going to do what your sister wants?’
His voice was strained, and while part of me longed to reassure him, make promises, I was also scared that there was too much risk involved in throwing away my entire life to follow this man halfway around the world. I nodded and the words came out of my mouth, although they were untrue.
‘It’s not just what she wants. I do, too.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. I know Steph seems overpowering, but she needs me, and family comes first. How can I deny her that?’
He looked at me for a moment.
‘I get it. I do. But if your life doesn’t really belong to you, then I can’t see where I fit in.’
‘I wasn’t trying to make a choice,’ I said. ‘I didn’t think it had to be a case of one or the other, but…’
‘But it clearly is,’ he filled in. ‘And your decision is made.’
I shook my head. This wasn’t how I felt, how I wanted the conversation to go, but maybe he was right.
‘I can’t just leave,’ I said.
‘Why not?’ he suddenly implored, his face full of longing. ‘You’ve had such a bad time of it – don’t you deserve to do what you want now?’
I shook my head again.
‘It’s too much,’ I said. ‘And I want the same for you, for you to do what you want. Go to LA, travel the world, be free.’
He stood up and stormed over to the window, yanking the curtains aside and gazing out into the dark garden.
Part of me wished I could see his face, read his feelings, but at the same time I needed not to so that I could be firm in my decision and not swept away on a frightening and uncertain wave of emotion.
‘What about the wedding?’ he asked. ‘Do you still want me to come?’
The truth was that I did, desperately, but I couldn’t see what good would come of it. It would prolong the pain.
‘No,’ I whispered. ‘I think I’d better go alone.’
‘You see,’ he said in a low voice, still not turning from the window. ‘I was right. I knew you’d leave; everybody does. Anyway…’ He finally turned to face me, his face tempestuous. ‘I’ve decided not to sell the house – I couldn’t do that to Astrid. But it doesn’t mean I have to live in the dump.’
And, with this, he strode quickly from the room, shutting the door behind him.
I sat for a moment, icy fingers wrapping themselves around my body and my heart.
So that was it. I didn’t cry, but I wasn’t sure what I felt.
There was something akin to relief, or comfort, in having straightened things out, kept myself safe, but these emotions were quickly swallowed by misery and dread.
Now, I had committed to a change in my career and a future that held little joy.
I would love my new niece or nephew, if and when they showed up, of that I was sure, but working for Steph might turn out to be a hair shirt too far.
Need help she might, but did it have to be me?
I sighed and switched the programme back on, but the golden sunshine of the Pacific coast where the estate agents strutted their stuff only served to remind me of what I could have had.
When I went upstairs an hour or so later, Astrid’s door opened.
‘Oh, Laura, it’s you. Are you all right? It’s very late.’
I nodded but couldn’t stop the tears springing to my eyes.
‘Come in,’ she said, and pulled me into her bedroom, where she moved a pile of colourful clothes so that I could sit down on a chair next to the embers of a dying fire. She took a poker and prodded it, then put on some more wood.
‘Silly, really, having a fire when there’s central heating, but I do find it comforting. Would you like a nip of something?’ she added, producing a small bottle of brandy. I nodded. ‘There you go. Now, tell me what’s up. Is it Nick?’
‘Yes. We’ve broken up.’
‘Oh, what a shame.’ She looked truly distressed. ‘It looked like it was going so well, we were all so pleased. What happened?’
‘He’s definitely not going to sell Lyonscroft,’ I said, hoping that this would allay her fears in that respect. ‘But he wants to leave the country and for me to go with him, and I don’t feel ready for that.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re going to do what your sister wants?’ said Astrid, looking horrified.
I nodded.
‘It seems like a good idea, for now,’ I said, then repeated the line that was no more convincing than it had been the first time I said it. ‘She needs me, and family comes first.’
‘Are you sure Nick wants to leave?’ she asked. ‘Quite sure?’
‘Yes,’ I said firmly. ‘And I don’t want to stop him living his life.’
‘Even though you’ll allow your sister to stop you living yours?’
‘That’s different,’ I muttered.
‘I wonder,’ she said. ‘It’s not for me to tell you how to live your life any more than it is for anyone else, but you’ve been so kind to us all, Laura. I want to see you happy.’
I returned to my own room and mused on this as I went to bed. Maybe I wasn’t able to find the happiness she hoped for, but at least I could protect myself from any more pain. There had already been more than enough of that for one lifetime.