Chapter 56
56
TWO WEEKS AGO
She thought about Will again as she began to organise her clothes for the following day. Laying out her skirt and jacket, they seemed almost to belong to someone else. It would be odd going back to work – although it had only been a short absence, so much had happened within her.
Will’s proposal – the event that she was sure had triggered the hallucinations – had been so different from Tom’s. Unexpected. Welcome. Right on time. She hadn’t doubted herself for a moment when she’d slipped the ring on her finger that night in their kitchen when he’d got down on one knee.
The only time she’d had a doubt had been two weeks ago when Will had arrived home from work, excited.
‘OK, so close your eyes,’ he said, having asked her to sit down on the sofa.
She sat, arms outstretched as instructed, and he handed her what felt like a box.
‘Ta-da!’ he said as she opened her eyes.
‘It’s a present!’ she said unnecessarily.
‘Well, yes.’
She looked at him. ‘It’s wrapped.’
‘Yup!’
‘So why the eye-closing?’
He laughed. ‘Just for the drama. Now open it!’
She did, and was treated to a bottle of red wine, a teddy with a beret, a book about cheeses, a silk scarf in red, white and blue. ‘What’s…’
‘ Madame ,’ Will said in a thick French accent. ‘I would be delighted if you would accept a luxurious trip to La Belle France.’ He looked at her expectantly.
‘No,’ she found herself saying.
‘No?’ he said, slipping quickly out of his accent in surprise. ‘You don’t want to?’
She shook her head. ‘Oh, Will. I’m sorry. It’s just it was… well, it was my place with Tom.’
‘Oh, not to Paris!’ he said hastily. ‘The South. Nice, Cannes.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s not like I never want to go to France again. But… with you, for our honeymoon…’ She shook her head. ‘I just can’t.’
‘OK,’ he said, ‘I should have thought. Sorry.’
‘It’s OK.’
‘I guess I knew about the Paris thing,’ he continued, clearly a bit hurt. ‘Didn’t realise you’d feel that way about the rest of France.’
‘Sorry.’
‘But it’s OK. Now you say it… I do get it.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Only…’ He cleared his throat. ‘This is going to sound stupid and self-indulgent, but you do want this, don’t you? This life with me?’
‘I love you ,’ she said. ‘I want to spend my life with you. And I definitely want to go to France, even Paris, with you one day. But it’s too… there are so many memories. Some are good. Some bad. All with him. And it just… we can go there another time maybe. But I want this to be just about us.’
He nodded, his face looking slightly less downcast. ‘I get it. Stupid of me really.’
‘Don’t be silly!’ She grabbed his face, turning his head towards hers. ‘It was a lovely idea. So lovely. Thoughtful. Just… not quite right. Not yet.’ She kissed him firmly on the lips.
‘OK,’ he said.
‘We can think of somewhere else, together?’ she suggested.
‘OK. Ooh, maybe Italy? Greece?’
It was later, when she’d showered and washed and was lying in bed in the darkness, hearing Will’s gentle snores next to her, that she began to think of Paris again. She’d never considered that what had happened with Tom would taint her view of France. In fact, she’d thought it might enhance it – be somewhere she could remember him, the good times they’d had there.
But when she’d seen the teddy, the wine, had figured out what Will was getting at, she’d felt a stab of fear, had frozen at the thought of it. And hurt Will’s feelings in the process.
It had been five years since she’d made that last, awful, wonderful trip with Tom. What would it feel like to walk those streets, to see the sights she’d only ever experienced with him? Had Paris died for her when Tom had?
It was only when she woke again to the dull half-light of 4a.m. that she realised.
She pulled her covers more closely to her and tried to get back to sleep. But her body was buzzing suddenly with adrenaline. Because suddenly she knew what she needed to do. For Tom. For her. For Paris.
Giving up on the idea of getting any rest, she climbed out from under the covers and made her way down to the kitchen. She guiltily rummaged in the cupboard for the cheap metal urn and pulled it out, holding it to her for a second.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered quietly. ‘I should have done this a long time ago.’
‘Better late than never,’ came a voice. She turned, but nobody was there.