Chapter 1
ONE
Gavin was perched on the edge of the sofa, his hair tousled from another restless night, and seemed oblivious to her presence. She was almost there, almost close enough to read the words when he sensed her and in one sharp, practised movement slammed the laptop closed.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, keeping her tone light as she leaned forwards to drape her arms over his shoulders, and nuzzle his neck.
‘Nothing.’
He jerked away, Jules’s teeth snagging hard against her bottom lip with the suddenness of it.
‘Ouch!’ she said, tasting blood, hand flying to her mouth.
‘Sorry, baby,’ he said, twisting to look at her, ‘but you really shouldn’t creep up on me like that. Made me jump. You okay?’
She nodded half-heartedly, but in reality, she wanted to cry.
He reached up and pressed his index finger against her lip which felt as if it was beginning to swell.
‘Poor angel. Come and sit here.’ He patted the cushion next to him. ‘I’ll get some ice.’
He pressed her down gently and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
He was like that, so caring, so kind. If only he could trust her with whatever was worrying him.
They may not have known each other long, but it was for keeps.
She’d known that from the beginning and so had he.
Surely that meant they should share everything?
‘Your colleagues will think I’ve been beating you up,’ he joked from the kitchen as he rummaged in the fridge.
Perhaps she could open the laptop and sneak a look at the screen now, but no, he was back already, ice wrapped in a clean tea towel.
‘Anything interesting?’ she asked, nodding towards the computer.
‘Oh, not really. Just looking for another development opportunity for when I’ve finished Beech House. Not much out there though.’
He sounded convincing.
‘Want me to take a look?’ she asked. ‘I mean, if we’re to be business partners as well as… well, you know.’
Please say yes, she thought. Please, please say yes and then it will all be all right.
He smiled, leaned forwards and kissed the side of her mouth.
‘Of course you can look.’
And she felt a shiver of relief run through her. He arched his back slightly and yawned.
‘But not now. Let’s go back to bed.’
No, she thought. Let’s not. Let’s sit here and talk and tell each other everything, but in truth there was little more to tell from her side. She had spent the last twelve weeks telling him about her life.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she just hadn’t given him time to tell her about his.
She wasn’t really worried – not like Carrie was, but Carrie didn’t really know him.
She’d moved out of the flat to go and live in the South of England and Gavin had moved in.
Jules had never thought when she suggested a much-needed two-week break at a picture-perfect cottage on the Isle of Wight that Carrie would meet the love of her life and decide to embrace island life.
She bit her lip. She was really happy for Carrie, but she still missed their late-night chats and the sprigs of wildflowers in a little glass bottle on the windowsill.
Gavin bought her flowers all of the time but somehow his extravagant bouquets didn’t touch her soul quite like Carrie’s ‘weeds’, as she used to call them.
‘It’s early days,’ Jules said on one of their frequent phone calls, ‘we haven’t got around to talking about his background much. We’ve been busy with other things.’
‘It’s been three months,’ Carrie replied. ‘You must have had time to talk as well as have sex.’
‘We talk about the theatre and books and football,’ Jules said defensively.
‘Football? You?’ Carrie snorted.
‘Okay. Gavin talks and I listen.’
‘Do you listen to what he’s not saying, too?’
‘I have no idea what you mean,’ Jules replied, holding her phone slightly further away from her ear.
‘Yes, you do,’ Carrie persisted. ‘Like where he grew up, why he doesn’t see his parents, who his friends are? Don’t you think it’s weird that you haven’t met any of his friends?’
‘Not really. He’s not been in Manchester that long.’
‘But long enough to have a house. Have you been there yet?’
‘Yes, I have actually. He took me last week and it’s amazing. At least, it’s going to be. It’s Grade II listed so everything’s taking a bit longer than usual. He’s waiting for new windows at the moment. They’re having to be individually made and are hugely expensive.’
Carrie was silent for a few seconds. Jules bit her lip. She shouldn’t have said that. She and Carrie may have only shared a home for a few months, but they’d hit it off straight away and Jules knew that the next question was inevitable.
‘You haven’t lent him any more money, have you, Jules?’
There was a lump in her chest. Why did Carrie make her feel like this? It was her money. She was free to do what she liked with it.
‘Just a bit. To tide him over.’
At the end of the line Carrie couldn’t suppress her groan.
‘It’s fine. Honestly. He’s going to pay me back as soon as he can. It’s a cash flow problem. That’s all. Loads of businesses have those. It’s not unusual.’
‘And the rent on your place to cover the mortgage? Is he contributing to that? Because he wasn’t planning to move in permanently, was he? Not at the beginning.’ She paused. ‘Or perhaps he was.’
It took all of Jules’s self-control to ignore that last comment.
‘Of course he wasn’t. You know it was only meant to be temporary. I didn’t realise that you wouldn’t be coming back.’
She sounded peeved. She couldn’t help herself. Carrie was quiet at the end of the line.
‘He’s paying for some food and a bit of other stuff.’
‘But not rent?’
‘I can manage for now,’ she said snappily.
‘Are you doing loads of overtime?’
‘Only the odd shift here and there.’
Another silence. Even without FaceTime Carrie could probably tell how dog-tired she was. She’d always said that you could tell a lot about people from their voice on the telephone.
‘I’m really worried about you, Jules. I wish I was closer.’
Jules felt a lump in her throat.
I wish you were closer, too, she thought, but managed to stop herself from saying it. One hint of worry or weakness and Carrie would drop everything and head back to the mainland. That was the sort of person she was.
‘I’m fine. We’re fine,’ Jules said brightly. ‘I worry about you, too, you know. In a new place, starting up a new business, in a new relationship as well. How is gorgeous Guy the gardener?’
‘Still gorgeous! I can’t believe we’ve only known each other for a few months or that I came here back in the spring in such a state and something so wonderful was waiting for me. It just feels so… right. When you know, you know, don’t you?’
Carrie was silent and Jules knew exactly what she was thinking – that Jules ‘knew’ with almost every person she went out with that he was ‘the one’ until suddenly he wasn’t.
She took a deep breath.
‘Look, I know that I’ve got a chequered romantic history, that normally I’d be thinking of ditching him by now, but I’ve finally realised that no one is going to match up to my dad. He was a saint to put up with my mum…’
‘Your mum is sweet,’ Carrie said. ‘She just wants to protect you.’
‘Suffocate me, more like,’ Jules replied.
‘You can’t blame her for worrying after what happened. From what you’ve told me, she and your dad adored each other.’
‘Dad devoted himself to her. He was so patient. Mum’s acting career always came first and Dad was very open about that, but for me to expect to find someone just like him… I’ve finally realised that’s totally unrealistic.’
‘So you’re prepared to settle for someone who isn’t very patient, from what you’ve told me, definitely isn’t open and…’
‘Does care about me,’ Jules protested. ‘When you came back to pick up your things you saw how he was with me. He treats me like a princess. You said yourself that he was charming.’
‘Yes, I did, didn’t I?’ Carrie replied. ‘The trouble is, Jules, charmers aren’t always to be trusted.’
Jules felt the beginnings of a headache.
Why did Carrie have to be like this? Why couldn’t she be more supportive?
She was thrilled that Carrie had met Guy and found real happiness after that nightmare of an ex-fiancé and the trauma over her job.
Surely the least Carrie could do would be to feel the same way about her relationship with Gavin.
‘I don’t want to argue about this anymore,’ Jules said, beginning to feel as frayed as the edge of the old sofa in the living room. ‘He’s the one, Carrie. I know it and if you can’t accept that, then…’
She shrugged even though she knew Carrie couldn’t see. Tears were pricking at her eyes and she never cried. Never. Ever. Prided herself on her stoicism. The other midwives shed tears when a birth went wrong, as it sometimes did, but not her. She was the one who held them all together.
‘…it’s not exactly as if we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other going forwards with you on the Isle of Wight and me in Manchester.’
Carrie was quiet for a second or two and Jules inwardly cursed herself.
‘What are you trying to say, Jules?”
‘Maybe we ought to stop speaking as often.’
‘If that’s what you want.’
There was a tightness in her chest. She put her palm against her heart, which was beating faster than usual.
‘It is. I’m really busy with work for the next couple of weeks anyway.’
‘Okay,’ Carrie said, her hurt travelling across the miles to Manchester.
And the call had ended there with the most cursory of goodbyes. It felt like the end of something, and Carrie hadn’t really put up much of a fight, had she? Some friend she was.