Chapter 14
Seeing Clare did something to Tad that was hard to explain. Difficult to make sense of in words. Vocabulary became a poor medium for describing the waves of emotion she brought out in him.
Suffice to say her arrival had that heady mix of feelings tumbling over him like ocean waves and gathering her up into a hug had set the world straight, even if only for a few moments.
It hadn’t ever been romantic, their connection – they’d both been so broken when they first met that going down that route, tangling themselves together when neither of them could stand on their own two feet, would only have ended badly.
She was gorgeous – no question. Elfin and slight, with awesome, sun-kissed corn-blonde hair hugging the nape of her neck.
Her mischievous blue eyes watchful, and incredibly sad, back when they’d first met.
But always ready – these days – with a smile.
On paper she was everything he should find attractive.
He never had – he figured he saw too much of himself in the pain etched across her face to ever be able to think of her in those terms. Instead, she had become the sister Tad wished he’d always had.
They’d been emotional crutches for one another while they’d navigated the long, hard road of learning to walk alone again.
Clare had arrived with a couple – some friends from the UK Tad hadn’t met before – and they all intended to stay for the remainder of the week, the three of them having booked in for the lessons, too.
It would give him plenty of time to catch up on the news, starting with dinner at the best family-run restaurant in Riva.
Nestled on the edge of the lake, with a large outside table booked for eight o’clock for all the Casa del Cibo guests, Tad couldn’t wait to share the best of the local cuisine with everybody.
With everyone seated and studying the menu, Tad had a chance to look around the table.
Clare was next to him, her newly arrived friends to her right.
The way everyone had shuffled into their seats meant Amy ended up at the other end of the table, between Hugh and Ron Penhallon.
She looked distracted, and Tad hoped it wasn’t because of what had happened earlier.
Hoped she would accept his apology and put it behind her, forget all about it by the time she got home to the man she was already involved with.
He should speak to her; reassure her the kiss was a one-off.
He sighed. Wanted their kiss to be anything but a one-off.
For now, he needed to focus his attention on Clare, to catch up on all the news.
‘She’s a bit young for a cooking holiday, isn’t she?’ Clare said, leaning into Tad so their shoulders touched, chin tilted towards Amy. ‘Not your normal demographic.’
‘Ha ha. Rude. Not everyone who comes on these holidays is geriatric, Clare. After all, you’re here, aren’t you?’
Clare reached a hand around her back, miming an ache. ‘Getting older by the day…’
He grinned. ‘True enough.’
‘Surprised you haven’t noticed how gorgeous she is,’ Clare added, as she flapped at her menu and focused on the choice of starters.
‘Oh, I have,’ he said, almost under his breath, but loudly enough for Clare to lay down her menu, her attention returning to him.
‘Have you now…’ Her entire face lit up as she smiled at him. ‘And…?’
‘And nothing. Apparently, she’s involved with some bloke back home.’
‘She told you that, did she? An outright rejection? Oh, my poor, sad friend.’ Clare was making light of it, but her focus on him was intense. She knew what was at stake for him, how difficult it had been to reach a point at which he wanted to make a romantic connection with someone again.
‘Well, not exactly. She’s here with the food critic, Billie Forsythe-Rogers. Amy’s her PA. Anyway, it was Billie who told me Amy was off the table, as it were, because of this long-term relationship she has in the UK.’
‘You were talking about stuff like that with Billie Forsythe-Rogers?’ Clare looked confused as she glanced at Billie across the table, then lowered her voice.
‘The Slayer of Dreams and you were chatting about her PA’s love life?
I thought you’d be holding that woman at arm’s length with a garland of garlic around your neck. ’
‘The Slayer of Dreams?’ Tad grinned at the descriptor. ‘I’ve not heard that one.’
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but some friends of someone I know had her visit their restaurant, and she took a machete to it in her review.
They coined the phrase, maybe that’s why you haven’t heard it, ended up having to talk their head chef down from quitting and emigrating to Peru.
It’s not like it’s the only name she’s been called over the years. ’
‘True enough. Anyway, we’re getting on well enough. The dynamic’s a bit different, I suppose, with her here in the role of student. She asked me to look after her.’
Clare raised her eyebrows. ‘The dragon’s showing you her soft underbelly, is she? Maybe she wants more from you than cookery lessons, Tad.’
‘She’s not a dragon, Clare. And I suppose it was a bit out of the blue, to be honest, for her to tell me about Amy’s situation. But I’m not sure Billie has much in the way of a filter. I thought she might be flirting with me at one point, too, but I think that must have been in my imagination.’
‘Yes, probably. I mean, it’s not as if you are in the least bit attractive, Tad. Ridiculous.’ Clare shook her head. ‘Shudders at the very idea.’
Tad grinned at her. ‘God, it’s good to see you. Tell me all your news.’
She stilled, her amused expression melting away, leaving a serious one in its place.
‘Everything’s OK, isn’t it?’ Tad asked.
Clare pulled in a deep breath, swinging to give him her complete attention. ‘I was going to wait a while, find the right moment to tell you. But I suppose this is as good a time as any.’
Tad frowned. This sounded serious. ‘Tell me what?’
For a second, Tad was back in time, holding Honor’s hand as she told him the diagnosis she’d been given, that the prognosis wasn’t positive.
Heat prickled at Tad’s neck. What if Clare was ill?
He couldn’t go through it again. He couldn’t bear to lose another person he cared for.
He grabbed at Clare’s hand, desperate in that moment to feel her warmth, the strength of her life energy.
In turn, Clare placed a reassuring hand on his arm, recognising the flicker of fear he felt sure had crossed his face. ‘It’s nothing bad. It’s the opposite. I wasn’t sure how best to tell you, that’s all.’
‘Clare – just spit it out. Please.’
‘I met someone.’
After the thoughts that had looped around his brain, Clare’s revelation had Tad’s shoulders dropping as he began to smile.
‘Well, that’s great news.’
‘I met him a while ago and I wasn’t sure there was any point telling you, early on.
I suppose I thought it might come to nothing, but after a while I began to realise he’s…
well, there was far more to it than I’d been expecting.
And then I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with you.
’ She swallowed – Tad saw the flex in her throat – and seemed to run out of words.
‘Why not? I think it’s great. I’m so pleased for you.’
Tad thought his words would allay whatever worry Clare was carrying, but instead her eyes filled with tears.
‘There’s more to it than that, though,’ she said, her voice dropping so quiet he struggled to hear her as she glanced around, as though she was worried her travel companions might hear what she was saying.
Pushing back his chair, Tad stood, her hand still in his.
‘Come with me,’ he said as she clambered to her feet. ‘Let’s find somewhere quieter.’
* * *
Amy managed to keep something resembling a smile in place as she watched Tad stand, his girlfriend’s hand nestled in his as he led her away from the table. She watched as he ducked under strings of fairy lights, and the woman followed, the two of them wandering away from the rest of the group.
Doing her best to listen to whatever it was novel writer, Ron, was talking about, Amy added in some laughter when everyone else did, even though she hadn’t heard a word.
‘You OK?’ Hugh leant towards her, his voice quiet and his gaze following Tad’s departure.
Amy dragged in a breath, then gave him a thin smile. ‘Absolutely fine.’
‘Bit unexpected,’ he said, sounding as deflated as she felt.
‘Mmmm,’ she said.
‘You like him, don’t you?’ Hugh said, needling at the one place Amy felt sorer than the bruising on her ribs.
‘Mmmm. Doesn’t matter now, though, does it?’
Amy had done her best to rationalise what she’d seen earlier in the afternoon, when the new guests had arrived.
When the woman with the short, blonde hair and the brilliant smile had arrived and claimed Tad’s attention.
Amy had lain on her bed, determined to aim for positivity.
Tried to emulate Nanny Gold. Had done her best to convince herself the new arrival and Tad might be nothing more than friends…
And even though it seemed fruitless, because it made sense, now, why he’d pushed her away, Amy had planned to ask Tad this evening, ask him outright if he was involved with that woman.
With that clarity, maybe Amy would be able to do something about the way he made her feel, if she knew for sure it was pointless.
But when Tad had made a beeline for the table, with the latest arrivals in tow, and Amy had ended up sandwiched at the opposite end, the questions she wanted to ask seemed increasingly redundant, especially when Tad had taken the woman’s hand and led her away from the table.
Nobody could misinterpret that, could they?
Amy’s questions dried at the back of her throat. Thank God she hadn’t embarrassed herself by asking them. How stupid she would have looked if she’d suggested Tad might be interested in her, rather than that beautiful woman.