Page 68 of An Unholy Affair
He stared out at the garden as the flowers came in and out of focus.
‘I don’t,’ he stated.
‘May I sit down?’
Shrugging, he scooted to the far end of the bench, clutching the bottle to stop him from reaching for her.
‘My parents can’t have wanted kids,’ he slurred. ‘I don’t think they evenlikedus.’ Hot bile and nausea collided in his stomach. ‘I could never have any. I’m a shitshow and the world’s even fucking worse. How could I inflict that on a child?’
Eveline didn’t reply, and he didn’t meet her eye, refusing to allow her light to illuminate the darkness inside him.We can never be together.She needed to know he wasn’t right for her.
‘I know you want children and I hope you get them.’ His head was spinning faster and faster. ‘But it won’t be with me.’ He stumbled to his feet, the bottle dropping to the ground. ‘It’llneverbe with me.’
Jack lurched to the right and staggered forward, only just making it to the first gap in the hedge before throwing up.
15
Eveline finished making a bacon sandwich for Simon, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions in check.
God, please give me the strength to get through this meeting without crying.
Jack’s words to her yesterday had smashed her dreams and trampled on her heart.
I was so certain that we were meant to be together. But now? I don’t know what to do. And Simon seems so cross with me. What have I done to offend him?
She placed the sandwich in front of him as if it were a peace offering.
‘Thank you, dear.’
He smiled as he took his first bite, and relief flickered like a tiny flame. Keeping Simon on her side was imperative if she was going to win the battle of the pews. He represented the section of her congregation Estelle called the ‘Grey Army’. Simon shared their age, dress sense, values, and outlook on life. But, in the matter of the pews, he’d supported Eveline, and she hoped he could win at least some of the others over to her position.
Trying to keep her voice level, she opened her laptop and spun it around. ‘I wondered if you could possibly look over my latest letter to English Heritage in advance of our meeting next week?’
Putting on his glasses, Simon peered at the screen, reading as he finished his sandwich.
‘Hmmm… Hmmm…’ He straightened, took his glasses off and tucked them in the breast pocket of his striped shirt.
‘What do you think?’ she asked.
He cleared his throat. ‘It should hit the spot. You’ve certainly included the right type of buzzwords.’
‘Buzzwords?’
‘To tick the boxes on their politically correct forms.’
Her stomach prickled with irritation. ‘What, like “community”, and “accessibility”?’
‘Yes, but it’s more what those things might involve. You’ve mentioned yoga, and that has no place in a church.’
‘Isaac teaches exercise and relaxation, not religion. I’ve been to his classes and they’re wonderful. But he needs a better space to teach at the heart of the village.’
Simon drummed his fingers on the table. ‘Eveline, it’s the thin end of the wedge. Once you let one hippie in, the rest will follow. It’ll be yoga one minute and gong baths the next.’
‘I think a gong bath sounds like a perfect idea for the church. The acoustics are wonderful.’
He stared at her as if she’d suggested a broomstick-making workshop followed by a light orgy.
‘Eveline, you cannot be serious?’
