Chapter 8
EIGHT
JANE
No. No. No. NO!!!!
This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. This isn’t a gift from the universe, this is the universe kicking me in the teeth. This is the bloody universe mocking me for being stupid enough to relax for one single solitary day.
Seconds ago, I was dancing. We were dancing.
My daughter and I, united by the power of music – ironically the soundtrack from the Romeo + Juliet movie from the nineties, the one we watched at school all those years ago.
Why was I listening to that? Did I just want to show off how cool I could be to Beth, or was I…
was I winding the universe up, inviting it to give me a kick?
I’m going mad. I need to stop seeing the universe as a sentient being that is solely concerned with the life of Jane Clarke.
I’m sure if she is a sentient being, she has better things to do than plot my downfall.
Still. How else could this be happening? I stare at him, at this man who has become legend in my mind. And he is very much a man now, not the boy who broke my heart at eighteen years old. Taller, broader, face showing its years, but unmistakably Rory.
I feel weak and stunned and like my knees might give way at any second.
He is staring at me with the same disbelief, the same utter shock, like somebody just punched him in the gut. His hand goes out to the doorframe, like he’s holding himself upright. Neither of us speaks, and I realise I have to make a choice here.
It feels like an eternity in my churned-up gut, but it has only been a matter of seconds.
Beth is grabbing her backpack from the kitchen table, and hasn’t witnessed the look we shared.
She will have assumed he knew my name from Moira, not because he is my Romeo.
Do I want her to know? Do I want to drag her into this toxic brew?
Does it even need to be that toxic? It all happened a lifetime ago. Can we just pretend nothing happened, that it didn’t matter? Or, for the time being, that we have never met at all?
If I was here alone, I would slam that door in his face. I would run screaming from Bonnie Bay, and never look back. I’d book into the nearest hotel, and drink myself into oblivion, quite frankly.
But I am not here alone. I am here with my darling girl, who is currently more open, happy and pleasant to be around than I remember her being since she was twelve.
She hasn’t mentioned her dad at all since we set foot in that bookshop, and hasn’t once called me a mean name under her breath.
She is enjoying our adventure in Bonnie Bay, and so am I.
So was I, anyway. I can’t ruin it for her, I decide.
‘Hi, Rory,’ I say as soon as I manage a deep enough breath to speak, listening to Beth mooch around behind me. She’s checking the taps again despite mocking me for it – poor girl, she won’t be able to escape her fate. ‘Yes, I’m Jane. It’s nice to meet you.’
I don’t want to look directly at him, but I have to. I have to try and communicate without words, just like we always used to do.
My eyes meet his, and my pulse is racing so fast it’s like my heart might explode in my chest. Blood rushes in my ears and little zig-zaggy lines blur at the edges of my vision.
I try to calm myself, to stop the fingers gripping the handle of my suitcase from trembling, to will some strength into my legs.
His eyes – the same damn eyes, the same perfect colour, the same deep forest green I used to lose myself in – notice it all.
I beg him, silently, keeping my gaze on his and mouthing one solitary word: please.
Please go along with this pretence. Please disappear in a puff of smoke. Please let the earth open up and swallow me, right this very second.
He blinks, a flurry of eyelids, and then nods firmly.
Like he’s telling himself yes, he can do this.
Just as Beth bustles up behind me, he smiles.
It looks real, it looks like he means it.
How can he pretend like that? Even though I wanted him to, it still kills me that he can so effortlessly fake his emotions.
I suppose, I think bitterly, I should have learned that lesson about him a long time ago.
‘Pleasure to meet you, Jane,’ he says smoothly, and that hint of Ireland in his voice almost derails me.
It made him seem impossibly glamorous back in the day, and even now I’d be lying if I said it didn’t send a curl of pleasure through my belly.
Rory Callaghan could always make my plain old name sound like the most exotic thing in the world.
He seduced me with his voice long before we ever even kissed.
I blush at the memories that are flooding back, and bite my lip so hard it bleeds.
Beth is having a last-minute panic thinking she’s left her charger upstairs, but finds it hidden down the side of the sofa.
All the way through her commentary on this, Rory and I remain speechless, both of us obviously too flummoxed to speak.
‘Right! Sorry, all ready now!’ she says brightly, skipping past me and out into the street.
I’m still rooted to the spot, still too shaky to mobilise.
He seems to pick up on my dilemma, and steps into the cottage.
He reaches out to take the suitcase, and our fingers brush against each other.
It shocks me like an electrical current, and I fly away, staggering a few steps backwards.
He holds his hands up, as though he’s placating a wild racehorse, and says quietly: ‘It’s okay. It’s all going to be grand. I’ll help you with your case, shall I? Take it to the car?’
I nod, feeling like even more of an idiot now. Why did I react like that? Did I think he was going to attack me or something? I’m losing the plot…
‘Come on, Mum,’ Beth shouts from outside. ‘I want to give Lily a call some time before midnight if that’s all right with you?’
She sounds only slightly irritated, more a touch of sarcasm than ‘I want to stab you in your sleep’.
It’s enough to ground me. To remind me of who I am and where I am and why I am here.
The answer to all of those questions is simple: I am Beth’s mum.
I am here because of Beth. I am no longer the little girl this man discarded when he was done with her.
No longer the young woman he broke. I am here with Beth and for Beth, and I will not break again – I cannot. For her sake, if not my own.
‘Coming!’ I shout, pushing past him, careful not to allow our bodies to touch. He swears as I head out of the door, and follows behind with my case. I am happy to let him deal with it, because now the shock is wearing off, I am also starting to feel some anger creeping in.
Rory abandoned me. No explanation, no warning – he just ended things. He left me in pieces and it took me a long time to make myself whole. I’m not sure I ever quite managed it.
I am angry, even though I can acknowledge that isn’t entirely logical or even fair.
We were both children, really, I know – would I judge anybody else so harshly for what they did when they were eighteen?
Besides, maybe he’s spent decades regretting it.
Or maybe he hasn’t given me a second thought.
I don’t know, and I wish I wasn’t now in a position to find out.
Frankly, Bonnie Bay sucks.
I stride off down to the waterfront, pausing to watch the sun sliding into the sea. It looks like a giant orange ball, casting a golden net over the waves. It is beautiful enough to stop me in my tracks, and I stare in wonder. Bonnie Bay is reminding me that in fact, it does not suck.
‘Um… this way,’ he says, walking past me and leading us towards a car.
It’s parked next to mine, and I’m tempted to ignore him, climb into my own, and head for the hills.
Except I said I’d stay. I told Moira I would, and I told Beth I would, and maybe I told the bloody stupid universe I would.
What was I thinking, really, agreeing to this? To embracing the adventure?
Well, I embraced it, and now it won’t let me go. Now I’m trapped with it on this insane rollercoaster, doing loop-the-loops and wondering if I’ll ever be allowed off.
Beth gets into the back of the car, and I am forced to sit beside him.
I could have driven myself. I could have asked to just follow him instead of getting a lift.
I’ve only had one glass of wine, so technically I’m fine.
But I have to acknowledge that even though I’m sober, I’m in no fit state to drive. I’m in no fit state for anything.
‘Thanks for letting us stay!’ Beth says from the back, all perky cheeriness. ‘We’ve been having such a good time, haven’t we, Mum?’
I nod, feeling strangled, and manage to croak out a choked-sounding ‘Yes.’ I cough, clear my throat. I need to up my game. ‘Yes,’ I repeat, with more gusto. ‘A very nice time. I’m not sure how much longer we can stay though.’
I glance at Beth’s face through the mirror, and see her confusion. We’d agreed we’d stay for the week at least. ‘Why not?’ she asks. ‘Please tell me you don’t need to go back to work – we’ve only just got here!’
There’s a slight whine in her voice, the telltale sign that she feels the world – more specifically her mother – is doing her an injustice. In this case, she may actually be right.
‘I might,’ I say weakly. ‘You know how it is.’
She throws her arms across her chest, and stares out of the window, going silent on me. ‘Look, we’ll see, okay?’ I add. She nods, and doesn’t pursue it any further – which frankly is the best I can hope for. I’m messing with her head, and I hate myself for it.
Rory takes all of this in as he drives us out through the village.
We pass the bookshop, its pretty display window all lit up, lilac-painted brickwork glowing in the fading rays of the sun.
I wish I could just go back in there, curl up on a bean bag in the children’s room, fall asleep surrounded by books and the comfort they bring. Lose myself in unreality for a while.