Chapter 5
Lucy
Itried to brace myself for the conversation that should have happened way before now.
Jamie was looking at me intensely. I felt like he could see right into me where meeting him again was stirring up too many memories.
I blurted out, ‘I was going to do something about it too. I’ve just been busy, running my business and.
.. It was just easier to ignore it.’ Because by ignoring it I could pretend that maybe divorce wasn’t the inevitable destination, and maybe knowing I’d harboured that shameful little desire for three years had galvanised me to rush up here with the divorce papers as soon as my assistant had scanned that letter from his solicitor and sent it to me.
‘I’ve been guilty of that too.’ He admitted.
I dived in and ripped the band-aid off. ‘So, I presume the something is the divorce we need to discuss?’
‘Yes, and no. My father died six months ago.’
That wasn’t what I’d been expecting. ‘Oh. I’m sorry, Jamie, I had no idea.’
‘How would you? It wasn’t as if we’d kept the channels of communication open.’ He sounded a little bleak.
I kept quiet.
He ran a hand through his hair making it messier. He said, ‘He died suddenly and I’ve been caught up since then with that and then this place...it has to be managed. My sister and I haven’t fully decided what to do yet. It was left solely to us, our mother never liked the place.’
He’d told me before that he had a twin sister which had fascinated me because I was an only child and had always felt the lack of a sibling. Especially after my parents’ divorce.
He went on, ‘My father and I weren’t all that close in the end. Not that it wasn’t sad but...’
‘It’s OK, I get it.’ And I did. I wasn’t exactly massively close to my folks. They weren’t a part of my day-to-day life in a way some people experienced.
He looked at me. ‘The thing is that as my wife, you’re now entitled to my share of this estate if anything happens to me.’
I blinked at him. The words literally didn’t make sense, and then they did. And it hit me so hard I was breathless. So this was why he’d got in touch –through his legal people – because now there was an asset at stake. An asset I might lay claim to?
The thought made me sick. It drove me to my feet. I looked around, ‘Where’s my handbag?’
Jamie looked at me a little warily and went to the boot-room. He came back with my bag. I rooted around until I found the large manila envelope. I opened it and pulled out the sheaf of papers that had colourful little tags sticking out on the pages that had to be signed.
I put the papers down on the table and pointed at them. ‘All we need to do is sign these papers and divorce proceedings can be initiated. That’s all I want. Nothing else. I have no right to this estate. That’s not why I’m here.’
‘I’m not suggesting you would want any part of it but you do need to know about it.’
I was feeling panicky because this little non-reunion was already showing me that there was a veritable ocean of unresolved emotions and yearnings and desires and questions where this man was concerned and a serious amount of hurt I shouldn’t even be feeling.
The longer I was here the more afraid I was that it would all come spewing out.
‘Look, if you just sign your bits then I can get out of here and we’ll be divorced within a few months and you can forget all about me and this...joke of a situation completely.’
But he just said, ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
My first reaction was a rush of giddiness. He didn’t want me to go? But then I realised his expression wasn’t don’t go because now you’re here I don’t want to let you go again it was more I’m not happy about this either. I asked, ‘What do you mean?’
He said, ‘Come with me.’
I put down the pen and followed him through the kitchen, out a door, up some stone steps and into a majestic entrance hall.
Stone floors. I stopped in my tracks when I saw a huge luxuriously decorated Christmas tree sporting tartan ribbons and gorgeous sparkly ornaments.
The lights weren’t lit but I could imagine how impressive it would be when they were.
I was momentarily thrown back in time to when I’d been smaller and my father had hired someone to decorate the tree. And underneath would be heaving with beautifully packaged presents.
He’d never understood that I would have taken a five-foot plastic tree any day and no presents if it had meant him spending time with me decorating it.
Instead, he’d tried to buy his way out of the guilt of having an affair with his secretary, who he’d subsequently married and now had a second family with.
My mother and I had been jettisoned as if we’d been the unfortunate starter family that hadn’t made the cut, leaving me with an acute sense of betrayal and rejection.
I could see into a reception room. It too was lavishly decorated for Christmas with another tree and a gorgeous gorse and heather garland that was strung across a massive fireplace, big enough to stand in.
Massive oil paintings covered the walls, of serious-looking people with vague resemblances to Jamie. Strong bones. Dark blond hair. Maybe Jamie’s family had some Viking origins?
He spoke, breaking me out of my trance. ‘Rhona had the place decorated in case we had a last-minute booking.’
He sounded like he didn’t approve. I turned around and he went to the imposing front door, opening it up and letting in a blast of cold air. I shivered.
‘Come and look.’
I dutifully went to the door and all I could see was white. Snow was already up to the second step.
‘You can’t leave now, Lucy.’
Not because he didn’t want me to, but because I literally couldn’t leave.