Carrie Goes Off the Map (20 page)

The next morning, Matt was sprawled on the chesterfield stark naked save for the hotel guide covering his lap. He was reading it out in a voice like an old-fashioned TV announcer.

‘“Hartland Manor offers discerning visitors an exclusive experience in stunning surroundings.” Well, that one's true. I've definitely had an exclusive experience.'

Carrie was rubbing her hair dry with a fluffy towel. She'd hardly had much sleep, but she felt cleaner and more refreshed than she had done for months. She scrunched up her toes around the thick pile of the carpet. After living in a camper van for almost a month, she knew she could easily develop a fetish for soft furnishings.

Matt flipped over a page dramatically. ‘Ah. Here's the menu. Would madam prefer the Traditional English or the Continental? And do you want your eggs poached, fried, or boiled?'

‘Do we have to have anything at all?' she said, unable to take her eyes off his body. Even though she'd seen him in shorts, the sight of him completely naked was driving her wild with lust.

He gave her a disapproving look. ‘I hope that's not a hint that madam would like to corrupt me again.'

Kneeling between his thighs, she relieved him of the guidebook. ‘You seem beyond redemption already.'

***

Sex for breakfast was all very well, but eventually you needed real food too, so they decided to take Morning Coffee in the Grounds. They chose a table perched on a small terrace overlooking the sea, which this morning was indigo and topped with whitecaps.

A waiter bearing a tray laden with silverware approached them across a sloping lawn. It seemed churlish to giggle, so they waited with equal solemnity to be served.

‘Room number?' he asked, after unloading the contents of the tray with great ceremony.

‘Not sure,' said Matt.

‘The Bridal Suite,' said Carrie.

The waiter's lips twitched imperceptibly. ‘Congratulations.'

‘Thank you,' said Matt, in an exaggerated public school accent. When the waiter had gone, he turned to Carrie and said, ‘Shall I pour? Would madam care for a gingersnap?'

‘Gav the fireman was right. You really are a posh git,' she laughed, as coffee dribbled onto the tabletop.

‘I'll overlook that. Cream?'

‘Lots, please. I have to get my strength up.'

She watched him swirl the thick cream into her coffee. ‘You know, I could almost get used to this,' she said.

Matt was experimenting to see if he could get a whole gingersnap in his mouth at once, so he took a while to reply. ‘It is addictive.'

‘That's because you know it's going to end,' she said. She gazed out at the view. Sooner or later they would both have to go back to reality. She'd be in Packley, and Matt would be working on the other side of the world, but at the moment, contemplating the future was like trying to see what lay over the horizon: she knew it was there, but couldn't quite see it.

Matt wrinkled his nose at the remaining cookies before choosing a shortcake ring iced in lurid pink. ‘Bloody hell. I haven't had these for years. We both loved them when we were kids, but Mum wouldn't have them in the house. She said it was all the additives, but I think it's because only the cheap stores stocked them. When we were young, Rob swore that when he left home he'd live on the things.'

‘And did he?'

‘Of course not. He lived on beer, kebabs, and whatever his current girlfriend could be persuaded to cook for him. My brother may be a brilliant surgeon but he's a stranger to a kitchen knife.'

‘Do you think he has a real drink problem?' asked Carrie, wanting to encourage him to talk about Rob.

‘I don't think. I
know
he has a problem.'

‘And you've asked him to get some help?'

‘No way. He'd love that. He tries to provoke me into it all the time so he can call me a sanctimonious, do-gooding twat.'

‘Maybe he's just worried about you,' she said limply. And you're desperately worried about him, she might have added, but guessed it was pointless to voice her opinion out loud.

‘Robert will sort himself out when he wants to. He'll just decide one day and swan off and get some help. I've given up trying to understand him. We're totally different people. Sometimes I wonder if Mum wasn't having it off with the milkman instead of Dad. We can't both be his.'

Carrie thought that actually they were more like two halves of the same person, but she said nothing. His voice cut through her thoughts. ‘Are you still hungry?'

‘No,' said Carrie, hastily swallowing the remains of a custard cream.

‘Then let's go back to bed and get our money's worth out of the Bridal Suite.'

***

They stayed in their room until it was time, according to the hotel guide, for Manager's Cocktails to be served on the terrace. After more sex, Carrie emerged from the bathroom for the second time that day. A cloud of scented steam trailed after her; she'd used all of the complimentary Molton Brown toiletries, just because she could. Later, after a very nice dinner overlooking the sea, she lay awake listening to the sound of the sea. Dawn was stealing in through the windows. Matt had insisted on leaving the curtains open and making love to her on the sofa in the moonlight. She'd teased him about being an exhibitionist, but in truth, she'd loved being naked in full view of the windows and had secretly imagined that someone would wander past (maybe a sleepwalker or a poacher, she'd fantasized) and catch them shagging. She was lying on top of Matt, her breasts pressed against his back.

‘I love your arse,' she whispered, shifting to sit astride him so she could kiss the small of his back.

His voice was muffled by the pillow. ‘Yours is quite nice too.'

‘Only
quite
nice
?' She slapped his bottom playfully but a little too enthusiastically.

‘It's a
very
nice arse,' he said loudly.

‘Not good enough!' she laughed, whacking him again.

‘Okay. It's the best arse in the world. I should write a bloody poem to it. Ow! I surrender!'

‘Better.' Dipping her head, she kissed her way down his spine, then moved up his back, tracing the patterns with her tongue, leaving moisture glistening on his skin.

***

When Matt woke, Carrie's rhythmic breathing, the fluttering of her lashes on her cheek, told him she was sound asleep. Her wild hair rippled over the pillow. Her cheek was pressed against the sheet, and he knew that if he touched it, her skin would be deliciously soft and warm. Then she turned away from him with a soft moan and curled up, the curve of her spine and buttocks shimmering in the heat. He got out of bed and padded to the window to look out over the gardens to the sea. But this time, he wrapped a towel around his waist first. In the light of day, he wasn't as bold as he had been the night before.

He turned back to the bed and slipped under the sheets again, knowing he'd never get another chance to tell her how he felt. He said the words quietly, over the top of her head, as if that way it didn't really count.

‘You must know I'm in love with you.'

She didn't move, but briefly he couldn't feel her breath on his chest. She didn't say anything, but he was already fiercely regretting his words. He wondered if he could laugh, say something like ‘You know I adore you, darling' in a clipped voice like the actors in those black-and-white movies his mother loved so much. ‘Are you happy, Caroline?' he could ask, and pretend he'd been acting, living out the outdated romantic fantasy of the Manor and its chintzy, cheesy Bridal Suite.

But he couldn't do that because he knew she'd realize. He was a crap actor, just like she'd told him.

‘Matt…' she said softly.

It struck him how different she was now to the woman he'd sparred with at Huw's wedding. Then she'd been hurt and desperately trying to gain some control over what had happened to her. Now she was the one in control. ‘Do you remember the freshman dance when you started uni?' he said.

‘Yes, I do. You and Huw were there, watching Rowena and me dancing. You do know we'd been warned about predatory men by the student union women's group?' she said.

‘They were right to warn you. Huw and I were on the pull, checking out the new talent, and we saw you,' he said.

‘Ah, but we were checking you out too.'

‘And you decided on Huw?'

Matt knew she couldn't say anything to that because it was true, but he'd started now, so he was going to finish.

‘I'm not that proud of this next bit,' he said, stroking her hair. ‘But we both fancied you.'

‘What about Rowena?'

‘Rowena was… cute, but I'm afraid on this occasion it was you that we were both after. Huw just thought it was me being bloody minded. He swore that I didn't really want you; I just had to win because he wanted you too. Things got a bit heated and neither of us would back down, so…'

She propped herself up on one elbow. ‘Don't stop now,' she said.

It was too late to stop anything now, he thought ruefully, so he carried on. ‘We went to the gents' and decided to toss a coin to see who would have the privilege of trying to get you into bed.'

‘You sexist buggers!' she said, sitting up and glaring at him. But it was a nice glare, he thought, because she didn't feel the same way and was going to let him down gently.

‘Well, as you may have guessed, Huw won, but it should have been me, of course, and then…'

‘Everything would have been different?' she said softly.

‘No. I don't think so. I think everything would have been exactly the same. You'd have said no, Huw would have pulled you anyway, you'd still have lived with him, and you'd still have split up. I'm not that deluded, Carrie.' Reaching up, he touched her cheek with his fingers. ‘And I can see that even now, though we might have had some good times, had some amazing sex, you haven't changed your mind about me.'

She was silent, and he thought her body had stiffened slightly with tension. He could almost hear her mind whirring, wondering how to reply.

‘You don't have to say anything. I'm not expecting you to explain or apologize for not feeling the same. But Carrie, I'm going away again soon, and let's be honest, I might not have had the chance to tell you this again. I suppose it was selfish, knowing how you must still feel about Huw, but I feel like being selfish,' he said.

***

Carrie lay with her head on Matt's chest, her heart thumping away, not knowing what to say. The past few months had been the scariest of her life and she'd survived—but this new twist was more than she could take. She'd loved Huw for ten whole years, and look where it had got her. She didn't know how to cope with Matt's feelings, so sudden and so strong. She'd wanted to make love to him and get closer to him, to know more about the real Matt, but hearing that he loved her was so much more than she'd ever expected, and she was overwhelmed.

‘It's not selfish,' she whispered eventually. ‘I'd have done the same, and you're wrong. I don't feel the same way about Huw, and I feel very differently about you from when we were at uni; differently from when we set off on this trip.'

She propped herself up to see his face and almost wished she hadn't. He was so gorgeous, his eyes full of tenderness.

‘Matt, right now, the idea of getting into another relationship scares the hell out of me, especially one where we'd be separated by half the world. It's just not possible. Even you can see that.'

He said nothing, and then threw back his head and laughed.

‘What's so funny? Why are you laughing?'

‘It's the irony of the whole situation. You being all sensible and stoic, telling
me
so politely not to be so bloody stupid. Who would have thought it back then at the church, when I practically had to drag you away?'

***

After they'd made love, Carrie tried to remember the exact moment when she'd fallen so hard for him. Just like Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, she couldn't name the first hour or day when it had happened, it had been coming on so gradually. Maybe it had started when he'd kissed her in the alley, or when he'd taken her away from Spike to the theatre; maybe before then… when he'd told her off on the motorway, she thought with a smile, or even when he'd berated her at the church and tried to stop her wrecking the flowers. He did it because he cared for me, she whispered, then held her breath.

‘What…' murmured Matt, still recovering from his climax.

‘Nothing. It doesn't matter.'

She could never tell him. It was impossible. He was going half a world away, but it might as well have been to the moon. She was going to start a new life. She wasn't prepared to give up her newfound freedom for a man; he would certainly never give up being a doctor for her. It was so much easier if she didn't tell him she loved him so much there was a physical pain in her chest. That just seeing him lying beside her, unshaven, sleepy, and naked, made her ache in every bone. It was so much easier for both of them if they just went their separate ways.

Carrie took a deep breath before she punched Rowena's number into her phone. She was sitting on the bench in the hotel grounds while Matt finished packing their things away in the camper van. Harvey had delivered Dolly that morning, pristine and perfect again.

‘Hello. Rowena Kincaid speaking.'

‘It's me.'

‘Hi, hon. What can I do for you?'

‘I was just calling to tell you I'll be home later today. The weather's turned crappy and I need to get ready for my course and Matt has some stuff he needs to do, and I've run out of clean knickers and—'

‘What's happened?' said Rowena suspiciously.

‘Nothing. I told you. I've just had enough.'

‘What about Matt?'

‘He's fine about it. He wants to spend a few days in London with some of his colleagues. Then he's got some sort of physical and a meeting.'

Rowena went quiet, so Carrie filled the gap before she got the third degree. ‘How's the glamorous world of the soap star?'

‘Bloody hard work. Fourteen-hour days, most of it sitting around, then there's the lines to learn. My face has erupted because of all the bloody makeup and I'm terrified of putting on weight. The Bitchy Hospital Administrator said I was looking buxom yesterday, the cow! And we're not even on the air yet. God knows what will happen when the series starts being broadcast. I'll be a nervous wreck.'

‘Why don't you pack it in, then?' said Carrie mischievously.

‘Pack it in? Are you mad? I love it!'

There was a sudden clatter down the phone, followed by gasping sounds.

‘Rowena?'

‘Oh. My. God.'

‘What's going on?'

‘I just died and went to heaven, that's what. You are not going to believe this. It's surreal. It's incredible. It's—'

‘Just tell me!'

‘The love god himself, David Tennant, just came on to the set. On a trolley! Hon, I have to go. They might want me to cut his clothes off or give him a sponge bath. Phone me later when you get back.'

Carrie clicked off the phone and laid it on the stone bench. Rowena wouldn't understand why she had turned down the chance to be loved by Matt. Rowena didn't make life complicated; she knew what she wanted and she went for it.

***

Carrie and Matt managed the journey home to Oxfordshire in a civilized fashion by Carrie pretending to be asleep and Matt paying close attention to a football match on Radio Five Live. For Carrie, telling Nelson about the accident was nothing compared to the misery of parting from Matt, but the time had come to face both.

‘Do you think he'll notice?' she asked as Dolly came to a halt, almost with a sigh of relief, at Nelson's lock-up garage.

Matt turned off Dolly's engine, staring out of the split screen. ‘There's no need to say what happened. I'll tell him I did it.'

Carrie shook her head. ‘No you won't. I'll face the music.'

He held out his hand to her and she wanted to die with longing right there and then. ‘We'll do it together.'