Chapter Fifteen
Matt hurried along to Robyn’s bedroom the next morning, a sleepless night spent tossing and turning having made him realise that he should apologise and try to rectify their relationship as quickly as possible. How things had escalated so quickly, so badly, he wasn’t sure, but he knew it was mostly his own fault. An apology was owed, and that was just for starters.
Time was not on his side, however, as the room that his best friend had occupied for the past eighteen months was already cold and empty. A large proportion of her belongings remained, of course, but her open wardrobe door showed a mostly empty rail inside, and her make-up and perfumes were gone from the dressing table.
Matt felt desperate, the queasy feeling in his stomach rising up as acid in his throat. Knowing he only had himself to blame made it even worse – he didn’t think he’d ever hated himself more than in that moment. He could only hope that she would come back after the holidays and that they would both be in a frame of mind to talk it through sensibly.
What he’d do without her till then, though, he had no idea.
Maybe a phone call to check she’d got a taxi to the train station and not braved the weather… no, she’d only think he was mollycoddling her still.
Matt sat down heavily on the bed where only days ago they had been finding pleasure in each other’s arms, suddenly completely out of answers.
“Did you see the weather report lad? Seems we’re in for a bad few days of it. Can you pop down to the village and get us some meat from the butchers, sausages and the like, then to the chemist’s in Upper Oakley to fill my prescription?”
“Course, Dad, course I can,” Matt responded on autopilot as he chugged the last of his coffee. Black and sugarless, to match his mood.
“How’s our Robyn today? Feeling any better?”
“Er, not sure,” it was honest, at least, though it omitted a lot.
Matt wasn’t sure whether to take the car or put on his hiking boots. In the end he opted for the latter, the blizzard being almost too thick to see through and certainly not safe for driving.
Slipping and sliding his way down the hill, his thoughts were consumed by the woman he loved and through his own thickheadedness had now lost.
It’s only temporary, he told himself as the freezing air bit at his skin and he fought to keep his footing.
Oak Tree Lane was as deserted as he’d ever seen it. The Christmas trees and lights in the shop fronts twinkled in welcome, though there was no one but him to see them. Hurrying into Mighty Meats he waited whilst Derek the butcher finished his conversation with the man in front, who turned out to be Oakley’s one and only taxi and delivery driver, Colin’s CounTree Cabs. There was no Uber this far out, and no competition for the role, with even Colin being forced to supplement his income by working on the local library bus.
“Col, did Robyn get to the train station alright this morning?” The benefit of living in a small place for your whole life was knowing everybody.
“I’ve not had any runs to the station today, lad, weather not safe for it and besides all the trains going south into Newcastle have been cancelled, something blocking the line.”
“What?” Matt’s head whirled faster than the snowstorm he ran back into, ignoring the questioning looks of the two men in the butcher’s shop.
Maybe she’s gone to the castle?
He fumbled in his soaking coat pocket for his phone and ducked into the tearoom to take shelter while he called.
“Mind, you’re dripping all over my clean floor,” Janet chided before she saw the look on Matt’s face and added, “you sit there, lad, I’ll get a pot of tea.”
Robyn’s phone went straight to voicemail, Sorcha had neither seen nor heard from her, and Jenna was teaching the Little Acorns preschool so wouldn’t be able to answer anyway. The fourth Oakette, Nathalie, worked full time in engineering and so was hardly ever at home.
“Sit down, lad, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Janet urged.
“Sorry, sorry, no time,” Matt rushed back out and back up Oak Tree Lane, moving as fast as the conditions would allow and landing several times on either his backside or his knees. He barely noticed the falls, however, determined to find Robyn as quickly as possible.
If she didn’t get a train and she’s not with friends or in the tearoom with Janet then where can she be? The question ricocheted around in his head with him no closer to figuring out the answer, so Matt hurried back up the hill, past the inn, past the castle, then all the way down Castle View to the river at the bottom. Now it was a straight walk across the old stone bridge and down to the station, five minutes on a good day, which this certainly was not.
Robyn hunkered down further into her wet coat and tried unsuccessfully to stop the chattering of her teeth. She must’ve fallen asleep for a while as the old platform clock now said it was a quarter to eleven. It had been half past seven when she’d arrived here. Not that you could trust it, since the hanging metal timepiece often stopped ticking altogether when the temperature got cold enough.
With no station master any longer, and no departures board, this tiny station on the main line to Newcastle-Upon-Tyne relied on its passengers using the internet timetable service for departures information and to get any news relating to a disruption in service. Which was fine, when you could get online. Unfortunately, down here there was barely any signal and what little there usually was had been killed by the winter storm.
Too stubborn for her own good, unwilling to back down and not having the energy to trek all the way back to Upper Oakley, Robyn had simply curled up on the single bench on the platform, exposed to the elements.
It was fine though, a train would no doubt be along at any minute.
She had wondered if perhaps the raging fever and headache had meant she wasn’t thinking clearly, but the thought soon disappeared to be replaced by more tears that seemed to flow freely with a will of their own nowadays. Even her earlier regret that she’d neither had breakfast nor brought any snacks or hot drinks had been replaced by a blissful numbness as if her body simply didn’t care anymore.
“Robyn? Oh my God, what are you doing sitting there in the snow?” The familiar voice of her best friend drifted into her consciousness like a line of much loved music at a summer’s picnic. Her mind tried to hold onto it, but she couldn’t quite get a good grasp as the tiredness overtook her once more.
It felt like her body was floating, lifted into the air and moving of its own accord. She wondered briefly if she was flying, then reminded herself it was a train station and not an airport.
Why was she here again? Surely her shift at the pub would be starting soon…