Page 62 of A Touch of Magic at the Comfort Food Café
I realise as she asks that yes, for possibly the first time in my life there are friends she could call for me. That I do not need to be alone with pain– hoard it, like Sally said. Cherie would come, or Laura, or Max, or any of the other lovely ladies.
That is a wonderful and comforting thought, but I only really want to see one person. I only need to see one person. And he’s possibly somewhere over the Atlantic.
‘I’m all right, or at least I will be. I’m sorry. This all just caught me a bit unawares. And yes, I can go around there. I can look after the dogs.’
She’s been nothing but considerate, but I see a flash of relief on her pretty face. ‘That’s great. I was so worried about leaving them. They’ve had their dinner, so don’t let Juno trick you into giving them more, okay?’
I laugh– Juno does do that– and walk with Melody to the front door. She pauses on the threshold and gives me a hug. I’m now, it seems, a person who happily hugs.
‘It’ll all be okay,’ she says confidently before she gets into her now more bearably cute VW Bug.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Icheck every live travel information source that I can find, looking for incoming flights from New York to London. There are more than you’d think. Several are delayed by storms on the other side of the Atlantic, and I can’t quite figure out if he’s boarded, landed, or given up on the whole idea. I wonder if I should message him, but eventually decide that this is a conversation that needs to be had face to face. It’s hard to grovel via WhatsApp.
Armed with the keys, I set off to Hazelwell. I don’t want to waste any more time, and the longer I spend at home, the more chance there is that I could change my mind and chicken out completely. I now know I was wrong to feel rejected and betrayed, but that doesn’t mean it wipes out the feeling entirely. I can still feel the aftershocks of that pain, reminding me of how much is at stake here.
I want to see Aidan and try to figure things out, because the time I’ve spent with him has been the most euphoric and wonderful time of my life. But the flip side of that is the pain. The agony of thinking I’d lost him cut me deep, and I’m terrifiedof feeling that again. I’m taking a risk here, exposing myself to that roller coaster all over again. At the moment I’m running on adrenalin and hope, but if I allow myself to sit down, to think, to worry about consequences, then I might well never leave the house again. That struggle has always been real for me.
Even as I stand on the doorstep, looking at my car, I have my doubts. What if he hates me? What if he kicks me out? What if he does neither of those things, and we get together, but three years down the line when I’m all in he decides to trade me in for a younger model? What if, what if, what if… I might have built a career on what ifs, but it can also derail me in situations where I need to be brave. And right now, I need to be brave.
I make the now very familiar night-time drive to Hazelwell. I park up, feeling a slight shiver of anxiety at the thought of being here alone for the first time. It is so secluded, so very dark, the wind whispering through the trees like a hungry ghost.
I go through the first gate and unlock the second. I’m not one hundred per cent sure how the pack is going to react. They are used to me, but they will be missing Aidan. I’m not at all scared– I know they wouldn’t hurt me– but I’m also not sure they will welcome me either. Apart from Juno, of course.
I hear barking from inside the house as I let myself in. There is a large hatch in the back door so they can come and go as they like, so I don’t know which of them are at home. Juno comes skittering along the hallway, crashing into me and jumping up to lick my face. She’s a big animal, and I gently push her away, then crouch down to stroke her and rub her ears.
‘Beautiful girl,’ I murmur, as she lets out plaintive little bleats. ‘At least you’re glad to see me, huh?’
Argent follows, loping low and tentatively towards me. I fuss over him, and see the other two peeking through from the kitchen. They don’t back away as I walk in their direction, and I’m so pleased that I head straight for the treat jar.
‘I know you’ve had your dinner,’ I tell them, as they all lurk around my feet, looking up at me with their amazing eyes, all shining colour and intelligence. ‘So don’t even think about howling for more… You can have one of these each, and then later maybe there’ll be something juicy and meaty in the fridge…’
They all accept a treat, and follow me around as I walk through the house. I look at Aidan’s framed family photos, his battered guitar, his piled-high bookshelves. His little office, set up with his computer and a landline. I sniff the fleece jacket he’s left hanging up on the back of the door, hungrily inhaling the scent of his cologne. God, I miss him.
I make myself a mug of tea and drink it outside, watching the dogs chase each other and play. I stay near to the house, though, because I’m really not brave enough to go into the woods by myself. The dogs don’t seem to want to either, and I enjoy seeing their antics. They all look so goofy and young when they’re messing around like this. I can’t believe I ever found them threatening at all.
I go back inside, and Juno comes with me. I leave the rest out there; I know they are used to coming and going at will.
I glance at my phone and see that it is getting late. I yawn and rub my eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by fatigue. I have not slept well for way too long, and it is catching up with me. I think maybe it’s also because I am here, in this place, where I feel safe and warm and protected. Maybe now I am here, and now I know the truth, my brain is finally telling me to relax.
I try to check on flight information again, but the signal is dropping in and out, as it usually does. I don’t suppose there’s anything to be gained by it anyway, other than being prepared.
Eventually I simply sit down on the sofa and try to read a book, or at least turn a few pages. Juno jumps up next to me, snuggling in, and I try to stay calm. It’ll do no good if I’m like a coiled spring when he finally walks through the door. The lastthing I remember is the words starting to blur, and me putting the book down on my lap ‘to read later’. After that, I’m sucked into a delicious black hole of a deep and for once dreamless sleep.
It’s probably the sound that wakes me. The sound would probably wake me even if I was dead. All four dogs are whining and woofing and being very vocal in their delight, because their human is home.
I’m splayed on the couch, the book on the floor, my brain still groggy. He is standing above me, his hands on the dogs but his eyes on me. I’m suddenly aware of my paint-spattered clothes, my unbrushed hair, the fact that I probably look like I’ve escaped from an institution. Again, I realise belatedly that I don’t seem to think like normal women. Shouldn’t I be in a slinky negligee and drenched in perfume?
‘How’s your dad?’ is the first thing I ask, clambering to my unsteady feet. He looks tired too, but also phenomenally gorgeous in smart jeans and a crisp white shirt. His green gaze is inscrutable, and I can’t tell at all from his expression what he’s thinking.
‘He’s okay, thanks. We… Well, it was good to clear the air. As much as we could. I tried calling you to tell you, but you didn’t answer. Eventually I suppose I got the message and gave up.’
I rub my hair back from my face and bite my lip. I deserved that.
‘I know. And I’m really sorry.’
God, I sound so lame. Before he was standing here in front of me, I had all kinds of speeches prepared. I had the perfect words to tell him what I want to tell him. But now he is here, in all his glory, and I am so uncertain. I have gone with the flow, and now I am drowning.
