CHAPTER 33
Harriet
Dorset
‘Martin didn’t stay very long,’ Harriet commented to Joanna when she got back.
‘No, he didn’t.’ Joanna gave her a look.
‘So, he’s not staying for supper then?’ She needed to know how many there would be. And she wondered, if Martin and her sister had split up, then why had he come here at all?
‘No, he’s not staying for supper.’
Harriet’s heart went out to her. It can’t have been an easy conversation. ‘Are you all right, Jo?’ Tentatively, she put out a hand.
‘Yes, I am.’ To Harriet’s relief, her sister smiled and some of the anxiety disappeared from her dark eyes. ‘You never liked him, did you?’ she said.
Had it been that obvious? ‘He never liked me.’ It was nothing Martin had ever said exactly. More the way he treated her. As if when he came to stay in the country, Harriet was the live-in maid and housekeeper.
Joanna acknowledged this with a small nod. ‘I haven’t changed my mind,’ she said. ‘About us splitting up.’
‘Right.’ Harriet was relieved – her sister deserved far better.
‘And you?’ Joanna turned, one hand on the banister, about to go upstairs.
‘Me?’ Harriet hadn’t told her about the latest sighting of her prowler. Joanna would only fuss. And besides, she’d had too many other things on her mind.
‘How’s it going with . . .’ Joanna hesitated. ‘Jolyon?’
‘Ah.’ Harriet had half hoped she’d forgotten about Jolyon. ‘It never came to anything, actually.’ She glanced round to check their mother wasn’t listening.
Yesterday, she had told him that it was over almost before it had begun. It had been a difficult conversation.
‘But why, Harriet?’ he had asked, and for an awful moment she’d thought he was going to cry. Perhaps all country and western people were emotional; it seemed to go with the territory somehow.
‘It’s not you,’ she lied. ‘It’s just that I’m far too busy to have a relationship at the moment.’ She couldn’t believe how guilty she felt. She had never meant to hurt him, never meant to lead him on, she supposed. But in a way, she had.
She had gone out with him – to a Cajun dance, which involved a lot of foot stomping and bouncing, but which was surprisingly good fun.
And afterwards . . . well, she’d let him kiss her.
She hadn’t been able to stop him really.
She’d had three lager and limes – Harriet wasn’t used to drinking – and he’d taken her by surprise.
He had brought her home after the dance and gallantly leapt out to open the passenger door for her.
She had held out her hand and her cheek at the same time, and he’d lunged.
And that’s when Harriet knew for certain: she really wasn’t attracted to him in the least.
‘There’s Mother to think of,’ she had told Jolyon.
‘She takes up so much of my time . . .’ Mentally, she’d crossed her fingers.
‘And so, I’ve decided that I simply have to say goodbye.
’ It wouldn’t be so bad if she could stop thinking and speaking in country and western clichés.
It had been such a brief relationship – hardly a relationship at all. What on earth had he done to her?
‘I’m sorry,’ she added, when he said nothing. ‘But I don’t have time to have a boyfriend.’ Which was almost true.
She decided not to tell her sister the details. She wasn’t exactly proud of any of it.
‘That’s a shame, Het,’ Joanna said now. ‘But you know what they say: plenty more fish in the sea.’
‘Yes.’ Which was, in fact, the name of another dating website. Not that Harriet needed another dating website. Someone Somewhere had failed her twice, but she was going to give it one last chance. Tomorrow night. And this one sounded much more promising.
Was she being unrealistic to start dating at the age of thirty-nine? Were all the nice ones taken and just the more peculiar ones left on the shelf? ‘Same for you, Jo,’ she said. ‘You’ll meet someone else.’
‘Maybe.’ Joanna grinned. ‘But I won’t be going out looking – I could do with having a break for a while.’
‘What happened with Martin?’ Harriet asked her.
‘Why did you leave?’ It wasn’t just that she was curious, though she was.
She was so inexperienced. She wanted to know more about what made a relationship tick.
And she wanted Joanna to confide in her, she supposed.
Over the past weeks she’d liked having someone around to talk to – sometimes, at least.
Joanna’s expression changed. ‘A woman called Hilary happened,’ she muttered.
‘Oh.’ Harriet was surprised. Of course people strayed. But why would any man stray from Joanna?
‘But I don’t feel bitter about it, Het.’ And she managed a smile. ‘I should thank her – she opened my eyes to what our marriage had become.’
‘Oh,’ Harriet said again. She wanted to ask what their marriage had become, but perhaps she should leave that till another day. Perhaps she was learning the art of tact and diplomacy – at last. Instead, she reached out to her sister once more. ‘I’m so sorry, Jo.’
It suddenly struck her that she’d been doing that a lot lately.
Reaching out to Joanna. No wonder her sister had seemed so vulnerable when she first arrived.
No wonder she had wanted to come home to a place where she would feel safe.
And what had Harriet done to make her feel better?
Not very much actually. Certainly not enough.
Joanna gave a little shrug. ‘It’s OK. It wasn’t, but now it’s a lot better. Let’s just say it’s been one heck of a learning curve.’
She turned to give Harriet a quick hug. Harriet tensed automatically, then felt herself relax into it. She hugged her sister back, surprising Joanna almost as much as herself. ‘You know, if you ever want to talk . . .’ She let her voice trail.
‘Thanks. I know that. You too.’
Harriet watched her sister as she went up the stairs.
It hadn’t worked out for her and Martin, but some marriages lasted forever, she reminded herself.
Because whatever her thoughts about the foolhardiness of looking for a mate, she couldn’t help herself.
She wanted to experience what Joanna had experienced, at least when her marriage had been good.
She wanted someone she could call a companion, hopefully even a friend; if not someone who loved her, then Harriet wanted to meet someone who would look out for her, who would care.
She even wanted – God help her – passion.
Joanna would be off again soon – next up she was going to Prague. ‘It’s nice to have you here, Jo,’ Harriet called up the stairs after her. ‘Really.’
Joanna turned around at the top of the stairs and gave her a lovely smile. ‘It’s nice to be here, Het,’ she said. ‘For the first time in ages . . .’ She paused.
‘Yes?’
‘I feel free.’