Page 17 of A Scottish Christmas Hideaway
‘Even when I landed at Heathrow there was still nothing from him, which was weird.’ She couldn’t work out why he was ghosting her. ‘I kept trying his phone a few times but his phone was switched off.’ She wiped away a stray tear which was at the corner of her eye. ‘For the next few days I functioned on autopilot at work, grateful that things were so busy to keep me occupied. I was so confused and exhausted and my mind was going round in circles about what had gone wrong . . . Had I imagined our connection? Had I read too much into our relationship if that was even what it was?’ She wished she could let go of the bitterness that had gnawed away at her in the weeks that followed her trip to New York. How she wished he had been honest with her and told her the truth rather than just cut her off. Being ghosted by him was horrendous, and as her colleagues chatted excitedly about their Christmas plans and what they were doing over the festive break and who they were spending it with, she retreated further and further into herself. She had managed to cobble a story together about spending Christmas with friends in Surrey. But it was a lie. And now as her mum looked at her with such love and kindness in her eyes, she knew there was no need for her to spell out to her mum how miserable she had been. With Kristen away, she spent Christmas alone, wearing her pyjamas and watching Christmas movies and nibbling on cheese sandwiches, which was all she could stomach. Who knew the heartbreak diet was so effective.
‘Do you feel like telling me what happened to him?’ said her mum gently.
Jessica nodded. ‘Okay. But I think it would be easier to walk and talk if that’s okay? Moving helps me to think. And I could do with clearing my head.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Her mum stood up. ‘I’ll go downstairs and get organised. Come down when you’re ready.’ She leaned over and gave Jessica another hug. Jessica squeezed her mum back, grateful that she was there.
She washed her face and went downstairs ready for some fresh air. Her dad was nowhere to be seen as she and her mum pulled on their coats, hats and boots.
‘He’s away to Drymen to collect something for me,’ said her mum, reading her mind.
They walked towards the high street and followed the glow of white lights that were wrapped around the lampposts casting pools of light onto the street.
‘This is the first time I’ve even noticed these lights,’ said Jessica, looking up at them.
‘These are the winter lights that get switched on at the start of November. I quite like them, especially as the days get shorter and gloomier. Then the Christmas lights will be switched on this week after the Christmas fair. They bring the colour and sparkle to the high street. The team have done a good job with them.’
They stopped briefly to glance in some of the shop windows and she knew this was her mum’s way of making sure she understood there was no rush to talk. She was grateful for the distraction and for a few minutes lost herself in the cheerful glow of the different festive displays. The new bookshop had a twinkling scene with sledges full of books and small snow-dusted trees. The gift shop had glistening baubles and paper snowflakes strung across its window, with a pile of bright and cosy scarves artfully arranged with matching gloves.
Even though it was dusk, she knew the walk like the back of her hand and felt a sense of peace as they headed onto the gravelly beach. Jessica stopped to look back at the village and took in the outline of the buildings and the church tower, dark against the dusky sky. It made her think how surreal it was that this time last year she had been in Manhattan, crammed with people and a skyline full of buildings, and full of optimism and excitement for the future, especially a life together with Tim.
‘If you go that way,’ said her mum, pointing in the opposite direction, ‘that’s where the sauna is.’
Jessica turned to look and could just make out the dark shape of a cabin about one hundred metres away. She nodded. Aware her mum’s gaze was on her, she walked along for a few moments and then started to talk. ‘It was just before Christmas that I found out what happened,’ she said, shaking her head as she remembered the disbelief she’d felt at the time. ‘I had called and called and left messages and there was nothing.’ She shrugged. ‘I just assumed he had decided he’d had enough of me and was no longer interested.’
‘Why would he not just be upfront with you though?’ asked her mum.
‘That’s what happens these days when you’re dating, Mum. It’s quite normal just to ghost you and not reply.’
‘That’s just rude, though.’
They kept walking, their feet crunching on the stones. Part of her wanted to head back to the safety and cosiness of Thistle Cottage and sit beside the roaring log fire. But Jessica knew she needed to talk about this even though it was extremely uncomfortable. She had tried to push away all the feelings around it for so long.
‘He wasn’t ignoring me though, Mum. He had a massive heart attack and collapsed as he went for the subway. I think he was on his way to meet me . . .’ Her voice wobbled as she thoughtagain how if it wasn’t for her then, perhaps, he would still be here. For a long time she had felt so guilty and responsible for his death.
‘Oh dear, Jessica. What a shock that must have been.’
She nodded. ‘I still can’t believe it. I’m not sure that I’ll ever get my head round any of it. In the weeks that followed I felt completely confused.’
‘What an awful thing to have happened. How old was he?’
‘Forty-five.’ She paused, wondering if her mum would make a comment about the age difference.
‘That’s still so young . . .’ Her mum’s voice trailed off. ‘But how did you find out what had happened?’
‘I called his office. I decided I needed to know one way or the other why he was ignoring my calls. I thought if I could just speak to him, then I would know what had happened and I could try and move on.’ She swallowed as she remembered the phone call that she’d made and the horrible sensation in her stomach as she waited for the call to be transferred. The woman she spoke to had come back on the phone to tell her, very gravely, that he wasn’t available to talk. ‘When will I be able to talk to him then? When is he due back in the office?’ she asked tersely, determined not to be brushed off.
She glanced at her mum. ‘Then she transferred my call to one of his colleagues who informed me that Tim had sadly passed away a few weeks ago and could he help me with anything instead?’ She remembered how his words sliced through her. A moan had escaped her lips as Jessica dropped the phone in horror. Dead? None of it made sense. How could Tim be dead?
Her mum’s eyes widened. ‘I am so sorry. Oh, Jess, I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this burden alone for so long. I wish you had told us.’
Jessica paused, now feeling completely drained. She didn’t think she could say anything more right now. Shivering, she nodded her head back towards the village. ‘I’m glad I have now.’
‘Let’s get you home, dear. You’re frozen. We’ll get you by the fire and warm you up.’
She cleared her throat, realising her mum’s eyes were rimmed with tears. ‘Thanks for listening, Mum.’ There was so much more that she wanted to say. But telling her about Tim’s death was at least a start.
Chapter Eleven
