Chapter 21
Alexandra
She was exhausted but her brain was racing and she knew there was no way she’d sleep, so she lay on the bed, her mind travelling
back to the beginning.
There was a delicious irony to the fact that she was staying in a room she’d once cleaned, although it was barely recognisable
from those days so long ago.
As she’d scrubbed bathrooms, changed bed linen, filled bowls with fruit and vases with flowers, it had seemed to her that
some people had everything while others had nothing and it made no sense. She’d started looking at the guests with fevered
curiosity, wondering what they did to earn the money that allowed them to spend a week in a sea view suite ordering room service
and expensive bottles of wine. Mostly she’d envied the families who spent whole weeks together and enjoyed each other’s company.
It had seemed to her that life was a lottery and when Bryan came into her life she’d felt, for a moment at least, as if maybe it was her turn and she was holding a winning ticket.
She’d been in love for the first time, and that feeling of connection after years of loneliness had been more precious than anything.
When he’d let her down as badly as her father had she’d decided that although there were plenty of things in life over which
you had no control, there were things you could control. For the sake of her daughter she was determined to focus on what
she could control. And part of that was relying only on herself. No more hoping that a man might live up to her expectations.
She was going to live up to her own expectations.
It was a long time ago and yet some of the memories were uncomfortably clear.
She stood up and opened the doors that led onto a balcony. Flowers spilled and tumbled from pots and a small table with two
chairs was strategically positioned to take advantage of the spectacular sea view.
When Bryan’s wife had left her the hotel she’d been given a chance, and she’d taken it.
She might have been content with this one hotel, but her hard work and creativity had caught the eye of an investor. He’d
seen her potential, and from there the business had taken off.
She’d made choices, difficult choices, and she hadn’t allowed herself to question them until recently when her past had slipped
into her present, forcing her to confront things she’d avoided.
Given that her entire life had been ripped open in the past few hours, there was one more thing she had to do.
Turning away from the balcony, she took a shower and dressed in a cool linen shift dress. She took time over her hair and
make-up before heading back down to the village as late afternoon turned to evening.
The narrow streets were busy. Families were returning from a day at the beach, parents loaded down with damp towels and picnic rugs. Tired children with sandy feet clutched fishing nets and buckets.
The smell of the sea hovered in the air, that tangy salt scent that she’d breathed daily and only now realised she missed.
It was crowded, but she knew where she was going. Even after all these years her sense of direction didn’t falter.
She turned off the crowded main street and onto a narrow lane which was home to a row of whitewashed fisherman’s cottages.
They were well tended, the doors painted in soft pastel shades. Colourful plants spilled out of pots and tubs that lined the
cobbled street.
A few tourists were sneaking photos, apparently indifferent to the privacy of the people who lived there.
Alexandra turned away from them, wondering at people’s obsession with seeing the world through a camera lens. She preferred
to store images in her head, where she could access them anytime she wanted to.
Like now, for example. She had clear memories of standing outside this same door.
She hadn’t planned to do this, but now it felt like the right thing to do. And if it turned out to be a mistake, then she’d
live with it.
That’s what she told herself as she knocked on the door and waited, her heart hammering against her chest. She felt nervous,
and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt nervous about anything.
The door opened and he stood there, familiar and yet unfamiliar.
She hadn’t had time to focus on him properly when she’d seen him earlier, but she focused on him now.
His hair was still dark, although now there were faint hints of silver.
His eyes were the same washed green that had always made her think of the ocean.
Outwardly he didn’t seem to have changed much, but she knew he had. They both had.
“Ms Strong.”
“Really?” She tilted her head, raised an eyebrow and saw him smile.
“Alex.” He opened the door wider. “Come in.”
She hesitated. She was always sure of herself, but not right at this moment. Not with this man. “I probably should have called.
I wasn’t sure you’d want me here.” And that was why she hadn’t called, of course. She’d wanted to see him, and she’d been
afraid he might refuse to see her if she’d given him the option.
“I was hoping you’d come.”
Her heart lifted and she followed him inside. The house was exactly as she remembered it, only back then it had been crammed
with baby paraphernalia. Her place had been the same and she’d been relieved to be able to pass some of Abby’s things on to
him for Evie.
Sounds of the sea wafted through the open windows, along with a welcome cool breeze.
“Have you eaten?”
“No, but I’m not hungry. It has been a long day.”
“You always went off food when you were stressed, and after today you must be stressed. You need to eat. You always get shaky
if you don’t eat.” He walked to the kitchen and she followed him.
“You remember that about me?”
“I remember all of it.” He took eggs from the fridge and picked herbs from pots that flourished on the windowsill. “There’s
wine in the fridge. Why don’t you pour us both a glass.”
“The glasses—”
“They’re in the same place.”
She found them, and the wine. It was like travelling back in time.
“You were always a good cook.”
“I had a child and I didn’t want her raised on chicken nuggets.” He whisked the eggs to a froth and tipped them into a hot
pan. Then he grated cheese and chopped baby spinach leaves. “If I’d known you were coming, I could have made something special.”
“I’m not here for the food, although you’re probably right that I should eat. And I didn’t know I was coming.”
“When did you make the decision?” He added the cheese and wilted the spinach. “Just as a matter of interest?”
“A few hours ago. I tried to rest, but I couldn’t.”
“Not surprising, after what happened with your father. I assume you didn’t know?”
“I had no idea he was going to turn up today, but he has been emailing me.” She took a sip of wine. “The first email came
a couple of months ago.” She watched as he slid a perfect omelette onto a plate.
“That must have given you a shock, and not a pleasant one.”
“To begin with I assumed it was a hoax. Forty years, Eddie. I hadn’t heard from him in forty years, and then suddenly he lands
in my email.” Embarrassed, she gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I haven’t seen you in a long time and here I am dropping
all my problems onto you. Believe it or not, I didn’t come here for sympathy.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. I know you, remember? You never did look for sympathy. Empathy? That’s different. Personally,
I’m feeling inclined to punch something. I’m proud I managed not to do him physical damage when I escorted him from the property.”
She felt something soften inside her. “What did you say to him?”
“You don’t need the detail. But I don’t think you’ll be hearing from him again.”
“Edward.” She said his name softly. “Still my hero.”
His gaze lingered on hers for a moment and then he grabbed forks and handed them to her. “Let’s take this outside.” His voice
was roughened. “Evie is out, so no chance of her overhearing us if we’re talking in the garden. She lives next door.”
“In your mother’s house?”
“Yes, although you wouldn’t recognise the place. It looks like the inside of a beach hut. Turns out Evie has an eye for colour
and design. I try and remember to wear sunglasses whenever I visit.”
She laughed. “And presumably you visit often as you’re next door. And you can keep an eye on her.”
“I’m discreet about that part. Mostly I just enjoy her company. There’s no rule that says you can’t enjoy the company of your
own children.”
“True.” She thought about Abby and how much she’d missed her over the month she’d been away. “Evie is an impressive young
woman. You must be proud.”
“I am proud, although I’m not sure how many of her qualities are down to me. I see more of her mother in her.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, but you never did. You were always a wonderful father. A wonderful man. You restored
my faith in human nature.” She settled herself at the little table and listened to the sounds of the sea. “It has barely changed.
We used to sit here and let the girls play. You had a sandpit and a paddling pool back then.”
“I remember. The sandpit went to a good home a long time ago, and the paddling pool developed a leak. I seem to recall Evie pierced it with a toy dinosaur.” He put the plate in the middle of the table, divided the omelette and handed her a fork.
“I should have picked up an extra plate while I was in the kitchen.”
“Don’t bother. It won’t be the first time we’ve shared food from the same plate.” She took the fork and ate some of the omelette
and he did the same.
She couldn’t quite believe they were sitting here sharing food and chatting comfortably when so much time had passed. It seemed
impossibly intimate for two people who hadn’t seen each other for almost three decades. But it didn’t feel that long. The
connection was still there, as powerful as ever.
“I told Abby everything.”
He sat back, his eyes narrowed. “Everything?”
Understanding the question he wasn’t asking, she gave a tiny shrug. “All right, not quite everything. I told her about my