Chapter Six
Imogen didn’t want to walk anymore. She wanted to go back to talking about huge swathes of mistletoe, be given a tour of the parkland by Felix, buy a desk’s worth of beautiful notebooks. She faltered, and Dexter slowed with her.
‘OK?’ he asked.
‘Not really.’ She looked out over the sea. It was still made up of a hundred different colours, even more now the sun was determined to make an appearance.
‘Obviously I don’t know any of the details,’ Dexter said, ‘but I do wonder if you’ll feel better if you get those first, tough conversations out of the way. If you talk to the people you need to.’
‘They’ll want explanations, and I don’t have the right ones.’
Dexter laughed. ‘The right ones? Surely you only have whatever your reasons are.’
‘They won’t be acceptable.’
She could feel Dexter’s gaze on the side of her face, but she stared determinedly down at her walking boots and the muddy path. ‘Is that part of the problem?’ he asked eventually.
Now she did look at him. His dark eyes had more depth than the deepest part of the sea, and his tangle of curls and stubble should have made him scruffier, but somehow they made him seem more put-together. He was exactly who he wanted to be.
‘It’s part of my problem,’ she said. ‘I don’t know whether I’m being unreasonable or they’re being too rigid, but my thoughts are still this …
’ she waved her hands in front of her face, ‘… candyfloss haze. I know why I left, but it still feels stupid and reckless and like I’ve messed up my whole life.
If I’m honest with Mum, she’ll tell me I’m being ridiculous, and Edmund will ignore that I had valid reasons for leaving, and get me to come back.
’ She sighed. ‘Whatever happens, they won’t be forgiving like Birdie is. ’
‘So this is a sanctuary for you?’
‘It was the only place I wanted to come when I got in that limo and told the chauffeur to drive away from the church.’
‘Mistingham is a great place to be. The pace of life, the community. The views.’
‘You and Lucy seem happy,’ Imogen said. ‘She loves that puppy.’
Dexter laughed. ‘Artichoke is Lucy’s particular brand of chaos, so cute that you struggle to stay angry with her. And Artichoke loves Felix, so that’s going to turn into a terrible trio sooner or later.’
‘The puppy loves the goat?’ They had reached the end of the cliff path, and Imogen turned to face Dexter, her eyes snagging on a hole in his jacket, no doubt caused by the barbed wire.
‘Felix is a force of nature. If you’re here for any length of time, you’ll find out.
’ His gaze roamed over her face, his smile dimming slightly.
‘And Lucy and I are happy, but it hasn’t always been easy.
Lucy lost her mum when she was six, so that’s been …
it’s been a struggle, but for the last couple of years, things have felt better. ’
The wind whipped hair into Imogen’s face and she angrily tugged it out again. ‘She lost her mum? So you lost your person, too? I’m so sorry, Dexter. She must have been wonderful. What was her name?’
‘Rae. And she was wonderful. A great mum to Lucy: kind, generous and funny. As a wife, too. She was all we could have asked for.’ Imogen watched him swallow, and felt a wave of sadness.
‘It’s awful that you lost her.’ She wanted to reach for his hand, to comfort him in some way, but she didn’t know what was appropriate.
‘She got knocked off her bike on a roundabout in Norwich. She was wearing a helmet, but the force of the impact …’ He exhaled.
‘Lucy’s new bike, the shiny red one she was on when she met you?
’ Imogen nodded. ‘I had to work up to getting her that, had arguments with myself about it for months, but I’m glad I did it. ’
‘Oh, Dexter.’ She moved closer. ‘That is the absolute worst. So horrible and pointless and shit. I know shit isn’t a strong enough word, but—’
‘It’s OK.’ He squeezed her arm. ‘I mean, in lots of ways it’s not OK and it never will be, but if I focus on the past, on what-ifs that won’t change anything, I’ll go mad.
And right now things are good. Lucy and I are a solid unit, we’ve been through a lot together, and we take each day as it comes.
Now we have Artichoke, too. I did have a point, somewhere in all of this.
’ He worried a hand through his hair, gazing at his feet for a moment before looking up.
His tender expression made Imogen’s breath catch, and she wondered if he’d been offered enough compassion after his wife died: whether it had come close to the amount he held for other people.
She thought, from what she knew of Mistingham, what she was rediscovering, that he would have been in good hands.
‘You don’t need a point,’ she said. ‘Thank you for telling me about Rae.’
‘I did have a point, though.’ He started walking, and Imogen fell into step alongside him.
‘After Rae died, I felt as if there were a lot of things I should be doing. Grieving in a certain way, looking after Lucy in a particular way. I was dealing with this maelstrom of unmanageable emotions, and I still thought there were expectations I needed to meet, rules to follow.’
‘Maelstrom is a great word,’ Imogen said quietly. ‘I should use it more.’
‘Everyone should. But my point is, you’ve just been through a huge thing—’
‘Of my own making.’
‘It doesn’t matter, it’s still huge.’
‘It’s nothing like losing the person you love in sudden, traumatic circumstances.’
‘No?’ he asked lightly. He stopped again, so Imogen did too.
‘I chose to walk away from our wedding, and Edmund is still there, leaving me voicemails and messages, buffing his work shoes every morning, letting himself have just one tiny espresso a day because he loves coffee but caffeine is bad for you. I could go back to all that if I wanted.’
Dexter shook his head. ‘You’ve lost something, even if it’s the idea you had of how your future would turn out. It’s a big life event, and I don’t think you can behave the way people expect you to. You’ve got to work through it in your own way, whatever that means for you.’
‘That’s a very generous assessment, but you haven’t met my parents. Or Edmund.’ They started walking again, their arms brushing lightly against each other’s.
‘I think you should speak to them,’ he said. ‘Get that initial conversation out of the way. However badly it goes, you’ll feel relieved that you’ve done it, and you’ll have given yourself some breathing space.’
‘OK,’ Imogen said. ‘I’ll do that. Except first I need to go and see what Mum has said to Birdie, whether she knows I’m here.’
‘You can always talk to me if you want to,’ Dexter said. ‘About anything.’
‘You’ve already listened a whole lot, given me such good advice.’
‘Great, so you know I’m good for it. Anytime, Imogen.’
‘Thank you.’ Dexter had been through so much, horror and grief that she couldn’t even imagine, and he still wanted to make sure she was all right. She swallowed down a lump of emotion, glad she had him beside her for the walk back to Birdie’s house.