Chapter 10
I really couldn’t fault The Quicken Tree Inn. Believe me, I tried. I was hoping there’d be mould on the walls or stray hairs in the bathroom – anything to justify me saying that we should check out immediately, go home and forget all about this place.
Unfortunately for me, the room was perfect.
It was spacious and light, with an enormous bed that was clean and comfortable.
We had a rolltop bath, a lovely squashy sofa, a large TV, a mini fridge and tea and coffee making facilities.
There were also stunning views over the grounds at the back, which the manageress, who’d introduced herself as Penny, told us extended to four acres.
The pub was clearly popular, as we could see through the door that the bar was already busy when we made our way to the reception.
The oak beams and slate floor told the tale of how old it really was, and I’d expected to find quite poky bedrooms as a result.
Clearly, the renovation of this place had been exceptional, with the comfort of guests at the forefront.
‘Well,’ Rory said, bouncing onto the bed, ‘what do you think?’
‘It’s very nice,’ I said cautiously.
‘Very nice?’ He sounded disappointed. ‘I think it’s amazing. Even better than it looked online.’
‘You’re right,’ I said hastily, ‘it is amazing. I’m sorry. It’s just been a heck of a day.’
I hovered uncertainly by the bed, not sure how this was all going to play out.
I really wanted to make things right with Rory, but I just couldn’t see a way of making it happen.
I was terrified that I was going to disappoint him again, and that we’d leave this place in four days’ time with no more clarity on our future.
Or worse, total clarity. If this really was make or break for us, then it was quite possible that we’d check out of The Quicken Tree Inn on Sunday morning as an estranged couple.
Rory seemed to sense my worries as he reached for my hand and held it tightly.
‘Come and sit down,’ he urged.
‘We need to unpack—’
‘It can wait.’
I nodded and sat beside him on the bed, not sure what to say.
‘I’m sorry. I know this must seem like I’ve pulled a really dirty trick on you,’ he said quietly.
‘I just didn’t know what else I could do.
When the idea popped into my head it seemed like the only solution, and I booked it straight away – partly because I could see there weren’t many vacancies left and partly because I didn’t want to chicken out, the way I have so many times before. ’
I pulled away from him, staring at him in alarm. ‘How long have you been feeling this way about us?’ I asked.
He shrugged. ‘Honestly? I can’t even remember. It just crept up on me. This feeling that something’s really wrong between us. That you’re holding out on me. I never really feel as if you’re fully with me, you know?’
‘I have a busy job,’ I muttered. ‘Lots to think about. You must understand that.’
‘But it’s more than that, isn’t it?’ he persisted. ‘It’s Danny. We both know it so you might as well admit it.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I said. ‘What do you want me to say?’
‘The truth. Are you over Danny? Properly over him?’
‘He was my husband for six years,’ I pointed out. ‘My first love. You can’t expect me to just forget about him.’
‘I would never expect you to forget about him!’ he said, aghast. ‘Never! How can you even think that? But Kirsty, I’ve been your husband for ten years, and I still feel as if I’m living in his shadow.
I don’t know how to explain it, but when we first got together you were different.
I honestly thought you’d done your grieving and were ready for a fresh start, but here we are, and sometimes it feels like you’re going backwards.
It’s like – I don’t know – like you’re keeping something from me. ’
‘This isn’t all my fault,’ I snapped, stung by his words. ‘What about you?’
He frowned. ‘What about me?’
‘Well, if we’re talking about keeping things from each other, what about you arranging this little break in Rowan Vale of all places?
And what about you making plans for us to move away from London?
Don’t deny it. I know what all the hints were about.
I fully expected to find you had a load of house viewings lined up for us while we were away. ’
‘I’m not denying it,’ Rory said. ‘No, I haven’t got any house viewings lined up because I wouldn’t do that without your full knowledge and consent. But I will admit that I want to move away from London.’
I stared up at him in dismay. ‘But why? We have a lovely life there!’
‘We have your life! Yours and Danny’s! The friends you two had are now our friends. We live in the house you bought after…’ His voice trailed off and he sighed. ‘You know what I mean. It’s your house, not mine.’
‘That’s not really true,’ I said. ‘We’ve made loads of alterations to it since you moved in. You’ve added so much value to it. It’s as much yours as mine!’
‘But it’s your rebound house,’ he pointed out. ‘The house you escaped to when you were still grieving. It’s not a happy house. It’s not a house we chose together to be our forever home. I mean, honestly, does it feel like a forever home to you?’
‘It’s a nice house.’
‘That’s not what I asked though, is it?’
‘I like that house. I like living in Borehamwood. I like working in London.’
‘Do you? Really?’ He sounded doubtful and I couldn’t honestly blame him.
How often had I moaned about the commute in recent years?
We’d both said a few times that we were getting too old for the city, but I’d thought we were joking.
It was just something we said. It didn’t mean anything. Not really.
‘You’re still working at the same place you worked when Danny was alive.’
‘In a different role!’
‘I know, but even so…’ He massaged the bridge of his nose, clearly stressed.
‘Why is it bothering you now?’ I asked. ‘We’ve been married for ten years. What’s changed?’
‘Nothing’s changed. That’s the problem. After all this time there’s still something there between us, and I can only assume it’s regret that you married me, or grief. I don’t know which would be worse.’
‘I don’t regret marrying you,’ I promised him. ‘I never have.’
‘Well…’ He nodded. ‘In that case, it’s grief. You haven’t let him go, have you? Be honest with me. He’s still there in your mind and heart, isn’t he?’
I wanted to deny it, but how could I? He was right, and if we’d reached the point where my own husband had arranged a make-or-break holiday for us, how could I continue to lie to him? Not about that anyway.
‘I suppose he is,’ I admitted heavily. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay.’ He squeezed my hand.
‘Is it?’
‘Well… No, not really.’ He managed a smile. ‘It hurts like hell, but at least you’ve told me the truth now so maybe we can start to deal with it. That’s if – if you want to?’
He sounded so uncertain that my heart ached for him.
‘Of course I want to,’ I said. ‘I love you, Rory. You have to believe that. I don’t want to lose you. It’s just…’
‘It’s just that you loved Danny, too, and you’re still struggling to come to terms with losing him.
I get it. I completely understand that. I just don’t know how we move on.
It’s been eighteen years, Kirsty, and if you’re still in this state I can only suggest that you need some help.
Would you consider bereavement counselling? ’
‘I don’t need counselling!’ I said at once.
My parents had tried to get me to join a group just after Danny died, and I’d felt the same way about it then as I did now.
‘There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s – it’s natural to still grieve for a dead spouse.
Normal. You can’t expect me to just get over it and pretend that he never existed. ’
‘And as I said, I would never expect that. But there’s grief and there’s… This. Eighteen years is a heck of a long time to be stuck in the grieving process. Kirsty, why did you marry me?’
I gave a half laugh. ‘What a stupid question! Because I loved you!’
‘Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure that it was because you loved me? For who I am. Not as some poor substitute – the next best thing?’
He sounded so sad and so unsure that my heart broke for him.
‘You’re not a substitute,’ I said, wiping tears from my eyes. ‘You’re not! Don’t ever say that. You don’t understand.’
‘Then please, help me to understand,’ he said. ‘What is it? What’s going on in that head of yours? How can we make things better between us?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted.
‘Maybe if we did move away from London it would be a start? If we bought somewhere that was just ours. Began again. I can work from home, you know that. And there are options for you. We could—’
I shook my head. ‘Don’t start all that about living in the country again. Please.’
‘Okay,’ he said flatly. ‘Not the country then. But we could move to somewhere a bit more rural in Hertfordshire, or to Berkshire or Surrey or somewhere. Find a nice town so you wouldn’t feel isolated. Somewhere with good connections to London so you could stay at Rochester’s.’
‘I can’t.’
Rory threw up his hands in despair. ‘Can’t or won’t?
Work with me, Kirsty. You don’t want to move to the countryside and that’s fine.
I accept that. But what’s wrong with moving a bit further away from London if you can commute to it easily enough?
You’re happy to commute at the moment. We could at least look at some properties, couldn’t we? ’
I shook my head. ‘We’re fine where we are, aren’t we?’
‘No, actually we’re not,’ he said grimly. ‘At least, I’m not. You and I clearly differ on what fine means.’ He got to his feet.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Going out.’ He reached for the bundle of leaflets that someone had thoughtfully placed on our bedside cabinet, showing local attractions and giving more information about this living history village we were staying in.
‘Don’t,’ I begged. ‘Let’s stay and talk.’
‘What would be the point?’ He gave me an anguished look.
‘Honestly, I’m not trying to be difficult, and I don’t want to upset you, and I promise we’ll talk again.
That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? But right now, it feels as if we’re getting nowhere fast. Let’s just take some time apart to think through what’s been said so far.
It’s been a big shock for you coming here.
I’ve just dropped it all on you and it’s not fair to expect you to absorb everything at once.
I’m going to get some fresh air, have a look around.
I’ll be back in an hour or so and we’ll have dinner downstairs, okay? ’
He gently cuffed my chin and I nodded. ‘Okay.’
I watched sadly as he grabbed his jacket and headed out of the room, leaving me sitting alone on the bed, thinking over what he’d said.
He looked so defeated. I hated what I was doing to him.
I just wished I could put everything right and make him understand how much I loved him, because I really did.
But he was right. There was something between us. And I didn’t have the first idea how to make it go away.