Chapter 23
23
ROBYN
The day after the extremely stressful Sunday lunch with the Carringtons, I drove over to Mum’s place once school was over. I’d enough worries what with my lesson planning, which, Mason had informed me, was not up to scratch, as well as with Sorrel’s problems. The biggest elephant in the room – that which had come to light over lunch in Ilkley – I was refusing to even think about at the moment. Time for all that when I was back home with Fabian.
We’d left the restaurant as soon as we could, me driving the Porsche – very badly, convinced the one glass and a bit of champagne would have me over the limit – once I saw Fabian was pale and incapable of being at the wheel after developing one of his debilitating migraines. Concentrating on the early Sunday evening traffic, I’d allowed Fabian to drift off and, once home, he went straight to bed. For the first time ever, we slept turned away from each other, going to sleep without making love and without loving words.
I’d had a 7.30a.m. start at school that Monday morning – Mason demanding an early staff meeting, where I knew he was going to be on the rampage about both planning and marking – and I’d left Fabian to sleep.
Mum, Jess and I had all insisted that Sorrel stay in bed instead of going to school, despite her insistence that she needed to be up and going through her routine for the audition that week.
‘You’re looking much better,’ I now said, pleased to see that Sorrel was dressed and sitting on the sofa with Roger Rabbit, revising for her final mock exam the following day. ‘D’you feel all right? Should we still have a word with the GP?’
‘Since when can you actually get to see a GP these days?’ Jess had immediately come round to Mum’s. ‘Look, I had a word with the doctor who was up at Hudson House this morning to see one of the old ladies. He was happy to give me some general advice about Sorrel. Good nutrition, plenty of sleep and, when she feels like it, go out for a walk. An iron tablet, just in case, and if she has a fever or heavy bleeding, that’s when we get her to A Fabian and Alexandra on family holidays; Fabian and Alexandra planning their future together crowded and fought for space in my head, and I shook it to dispel the images. ‘And distraught when you were no longer a couple?’
‘Yes.’ Fabian drained his glass before reaching for the bottle to pour more wine.
‘Should you be drinking after such a bad migraine?’
‘What are you now? My doctor?’ Fabian scowled back in return, but replaced the bottle on the floor without refilling his glass.
‘So, were you childhood sweethearts or something?’ I was determined not to let it go.
‘Alex and I broke up last March.’
‘March?’ I stared. ‘But that was just two months before we met.’
‘It was.’
‘No wonder your mother was so upset when I turned up at her charity do on your arm: Alexandra gone and me in her place.’
‘Alex and I were on a break,’ Fabian said. ‘Trying to work out what we wanted. Where the relationship was going. If anywhere.’
‘A break? How much of a break? A total rupture or just a fracture that needed a bit of a sticking plaster to make it mend and whole again? Could you be a little more specific, Fabian, please? And you didn’t think to tell me this when you were intent on tracking me down at Graphite? When you were feeding me ice-cream kisses on the riverbank on our first date?’
‘I didn’t want to scare you off. Alex and I were on a break because I was unable to get my head around where Alex and I were going. What I wanted.’
‘What do you mean where you were going? What you wanted?’ The sick feeling I’d had all day didn’t appear to be shifting at Fabian’s explanation.
Fabian shrugged. ‘I was already beginning to realise that continuing to defend murderers and violent rapists wasn’t what I wanted. It was making me ill. Alex couldn’t understand what I was feeling. I wasn’t much fun to live with… She had a fling with one of her colleagues… I don’t blame her… I wasn’t in a good place…’
‘Well, I blame her.’ I was furious, hating the thought of Fabian being cheated on. Hated the beautiful blonde who’d done this to him. ‘Were you terribly hurt?’
Fabian nodded. ‘But I can only blame myself. I wasn’t giving her any attention. I guess I was very depressed at where my work was taking me.’ He smiled, reaching for my hand. ‘But then I met you. You were utterly different from anyone I’d known before.’
‘Well, yes, I’ve nail-varnished holes in my tights and a dysfunctional family.’
‘Robyn, I fell in love with you. You must know that. You do know that.’
‘But, Fabian, what the hell is she doing in Yorkshire? Joel’s brief, for heaven’s sake? Did she follow you up here?’
‘Alex was at university in Leeds. She says – although I’m not convinced – she always loved this part of the country and, as her twin sister now lives in Ilkley?—’
‘Jesus, there’s two of them?’ Despite my anguish, I felt a little nervous chortle start and quickly swallowed it down. This was no time for laughter. ‘Bloody hell, that’s all I need – another one just like her.’
Ignoring me, Fabian continued. ‘When we decided to call it a day, she took the opportunity to move up to be near her sister, taking a promotion with the large firm of solicitors that’s dealing with Joel’s case.’
‘Bit of a coincidence, isn’t it? And you didn’t know?’
‘I’d no idea who Joel’s solicitors were. Why would I? I’d never even met Joel. Until today.’
‘You’ve met Joel now? You’ve actually agreed to taking his case?’ I stared, taking in the dark suit and briefcase at Fabian’s feet.
‘Not if you don’t want me to.’
‘Does it mean working alongside your ex?’
‘Of course. That’s what happens when solicitors appoint a barrister.’
I was silent for a while, mulling over the information Fabian had laid out in front of me. Then I said, ‘When you came up to live with Jemima in Harrogate?’
‘Yes?’
‘And I didn’t know you were living in Yorkshire?’
‘Yes?’
‘Did you start seeing Alex again then?’
Fabian sighed. ‘Robyn, when you ran away back north, running back up here…’
‘I wasn’t exactly running – I’d badly injured my ACL, for heaven’s sake.’ I glared at him.
‘…ran away back up here…’ Fabian repeated calmly.
‘Stop speaking to me like I’m in the dock,’ I interrupted, knowing exactly where Fabian was heading.
‘…blocking my calls, refusing to have anything to do with me? How long, Robyn? How long before you were in your headteacher’s bed? Hmm? Hmm?’
When I didn’t answer, Fabian smiled sadly. ‘I rest my case, Robyn.’