Chapter 5
CLARK
The five of us finish our run with a race, which Spencer wins, more because he’s reckless on his board through skill alone. I come second, spraying snow in the direction of the lodge bar. Then Matty. Dayna. Tim.
We line our helmets along the middle of a picnic bench and take a pew. The sun is fierce. The bar is packed inside and out, and the crowd is in good spirits. Verbier après-ski is second to none.
‘So, Spencer, last time we saw each other, you had almost finished uni,’ Dayna says to my brother. ‘What are you up to now?’
‘Well, I haven’t been blessed with the dizzy heights of CEO of my own oil company or anything?—’
‘It’s really more of a curse, trust me.’
‘I’ll second that,’ I say, taking a pint of lager from the tray Matty has brought back from the bar.
Dayna takes a bottle of Bud and dips it towards me in agreement. This afternoon, maybe she only hates me 99 per cent.
‘I’m shooting short films and documentaries,’ Spencer continues. ‘Freelance, but I’m starting to get quite a lot of return business.’
‘That’s so cool. I can imagine you being good at that. What kind of films and documentaries?’
Spencer takes his phone from his inside pocket and types in his passcode.
‘A whole mixed bag, really. Dry stuff, about the NHS and other public bodies. Then some pretty awesome stuff like the drug scene in South America. But actually the big payers are sports teams and brands. This is an extended ad I shot a few weeks back.’ He holds out his phone, and Dayna leans in to watch the clip.
I can’t take my eyes off the pair of them. Their easy manner together. If I allowed myself, despite all the shit going on and the pain I’ve caused Connie, I could be happy.
Tim holds up a hand and hollers at Amy, who’s coming into the bar with the others. I stand to let Yvette take my seat. ‘Good skiing?’ I ask her and Teddy.
‘Wet arse. Enough said,’ Yvette retorts.
‘Need a drink?’
‘Hell yes!’ Rachel chips in, urging Teddy to hit the bar.
‘I’ll give you a hand,’ I offer.
‘You two getting along any better?’ Teddy asks as we wait at the bar for our drinks. He’s obviously referring to Dayna and me.
I shake my head. ‘You should have told me, Ted. After breaking things off with Connie, I know I’m battling against not only my past with Dayna but also everyone thinking my next move will be a rebound – but it wouldn’t be, not with Dayna.
My first step was to stop her from hating me, and that’s a fucking marathon in itself.
Now you’ve put us in the mountains with no escape, and me just being alive pisses her off. ’
Teddy takes one of the pints the bartender has placed on our tray and slurps the frothy head.
‘Clark, you needed a break, and you two have a lot of history you need to settle, one way or the other. Maybe it’ll sort both your heads out.
You hurt her. Bad. If she can’t get past that, at least this way, you’ll know.
If she can, maybe you have a shot at what you want.
But I swear to God, if she gives you a chance and you break her like that again, you and me, we’ll be done.
Jay let you off lightly with Constance. Dayna is like my little sister, you know that.
If the two of you are happier together, I’m all for it. But if not, walk away.’
It’s Teddy. My best man. And he just brought home to me how much I really did fuck up.
He pays the bartender and carries the tray out to the others. I stay behind with my pint and lean back against the bar. I hate to even think it, but maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m pushing something just because I want it, and I’m not thinking about what’s best for her.
Jay did let me off lightly. In his shoes, I’d have ripped my fucking head off for what I did to his sister.
Dayna had no one to fight her battles. Instead, the day after I ran for the hills, Little Princess exploded in the Persian Gulf and she had a heap more shit to deal with.
My chest tightens. Has it really taken me four years to realise?
She had the worst day of her life, and I should have been there for her.
Instead, I was too concerned about what my bastard father thought.
And too afraid that I could get tied to a woman I wasn’t ready for.
I put distance between us, when what she really needed was support.
I am such a dick. She deserves so much better than me.
I slide my unfinished pint onto the bar and head outside. She’s laughing with Spencer, a sight that constricts my chest further. I make a beeline for the table, and she looks up.
‘Clark Layton!’ Camilla Normen comes out of nowhere and practically pounces on me. A tall, slim blonde with bright-pink lips, she looks every bit the model she is in her fur headband and oversized shades – fashion, not sports.
I grab her waist, more to keep her at a safe distance than in an embrace, and kiss her cheeks. ‘Camilla, how are you?’
‘All the better for seeing you. The girls are here. Come on over for a chat?’
I raise a hand to a group of six girls. Half of whom I’ve gotten dirty with during previous trips to Verbier.
‘Oh come on, they won’t bite, hard.’
Camilla pulls my hand, and as much as I really can’t be arsed, I follow out of politeness. I’m prodded and squeezed and squealed at for five torturous minutes. When I glance back at our table, Teddy gives me a look of wrath. Dayna no longer looks at me at all.
Finally, I manage to extricate myself from the group and make my way back to what I intended to do. This time, when Dayna looks at me, the warmth that was there just minutes ago is gone.
‘Got a second?’ I ask her.
She’s still for a moment, then she unhooks her legs from under the bench and follows me to the edge of the bar area, where we both stand in the snow.
‘I’m going to go,’ I tell her.
‘Go where?’ Her voice is quiet and she looks to her hands.
‘Home. London. I swear I didn’t know you were going to be here, and I should have turned straight around when I realised.
I’m going to go and let you enjoy your birthday with your friends.
But before I do—’ She raises her gaze to me.
Shame and guilt make me look away. I take a breath, then meet her eyes.
‘I’m sorry. About us. Not just us.’ I hear her breath hitch.
I wonder whether I’ve done the right thing, reopening old wounds.
‘I should have been there, when Little Princess… After, with your father… I should have been there to support you. To hold you.’
‘Clark—’
‘It’s taken me so long to realise how selfish I’ve been.’ I drag a hand through my hair. ‘I could never make that up to you. I finally see that. But I want you to know how sorry I am.’
Her whole body seems to deflate, and I’m desperate to see behind her shades.
Her tough wall is down and it’s just us.
Just Clark and Dayna, how it used to be.
Without thinking, I tuck her hair behind her ear.
She doesn’t pull away. I hold her face in my palms, such a tiny move I didn’t realise I’ve missed so much, until now.
The feel of her smooth skin, and as I trace her lips with my thumb, it’s too familiar, a bad idea, and yet she doesn’t pull back.
I inch closer to her until her breath hitches and I press my lips to hers, tentatively, afraid to move, and I close my eyes.
She doesn’t move her mouth beneath mine even though the contact ignites something much bigger than memories or lust inside me.
I force myself to remember this is a goodbye kiss.
I pull away and turn my back on her for the last time. When I look back, she’s still standing in the same position, chin raised, shoulders sagged, lips parted. Shocked, I think.
‘That’s right, Clark. That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it? Messing with my head then walking away.’
I stop and face her. ‘I’m trying to put things right, Dayna. I just don’t know how.’
‘Showing me your back is what got us here. I never wanted you to walk away.’
The way her eyes widen and she fixes me with her gaze, I want to get lost in it. In her. In every way.
‘I don’t know what to do.’
‘You were in love with a woman enough to marry her, Clark. You’re probably not supposed to have all the answers a few days later.
’ She moves closer to me, her familiar scent surrounding me and taking me back to a time when I could take her in my arms, drown in her hold, her scent, bury myself inside her.
‘I know what it’s like trying to get over someone you’re in love with.
I’m not saying I’m going to be nice to you, and you can’t ask that of me.
But you were happy out there today.’ I follow the direction of her hand to the snowy peaks, thinking the only person I’ve ever loved, truly, is her.
‘Stay. Clear your head. It’s your chalet, after all. ’
‘I don’t want to ruin your birthday.’ My voice breaks because I don’t want to go either. I want to be wherever she is, even if she says she hates me because the way she looks at me, the way she’s looking at me, tells me the opposite.
‘I won’t give you the privilege. It’s your decision. But let me tell you this: if you try to kiss me again, I will slap your face. God knows I should’ve done that a long time ago.’