Hand On Heart: Sequel to Head Over Heels (12 page)

Grace took a straw poll of her kids, whose hands stayed resolutely down, in favour of another day of swimming.  Herself and Evie alone together on a day out held huge appeal, but she had promised Tom she’d stay home with the twins.  Evie was met with the same lack of enthusiasm from her own daughters.

‘Oh well, just me then!’  There was no point in waiting for James to get up, he probably wouldn’t want to come either.  She headed upstairs for a shower.

‘Sorry, Evie,’ Grace called to her departing friend. ‘Would’ve been great.’

James was belting out ‘Nessun Dorma’ from the shower.  She couldn’t see him for steam, clearly he’d been in there for a while.  She flung open a couple of the porthole windows of their turret bathroom and waited for the mist to clear.

‘Hi, darling,’ James called.  ‘Won’t be long.’

She stripped off and jumped into the still warm cubicle as soon as he vacated, closing the door quickly behind her.

‘I’m going to Chateau Des Milandes today.  Don’t suppose you’ll want to come?’  She hoped he’d say no, crossing her fingers behind her back.

‘Oh. Yeah, do you know what, actually I’d love to.  We could make a bit of a day of it, have some lunch out.  Presume the girls are happy to stay here?  Sight-seeing’s not really their thing, is it?’

Damn and double-damn.  She knew she shouldn’t feel like this about James coming.  How times had changed; a couple of years ago the pair of them would have done anything to escape the rest of the party and spend a bit of time in one another’s company, and the thought of a day out together like this would have been bliss.

‘Oh, OK, then,’ she agreed, glad that he couldn’t see her crestfallen expression.  She cursed herself for feeling like this; if only they could get back to those days when they relished one another’s company.  She was trying to get past it, really she was.  It was just so hard.  Forgiving was one thing, forgetting was another thing entirely.  She needed someone to come along and zap her memory, erase all the bad things and just leave her with all the lovely things from their almost seventeen years of marriage.  If only…

Oh well, it looked like she had company for the day, after all.

Tom headed off into the valley, camera over his shoulder, backpack stocked with refreshments, just in case he didn’t make it back in time for lunch.  A peaceful morning in the woods with his camera was just what he needed.  It was good to have a break from the constant presence of friends and family, and the need to be sociable.  Much as he was enjoying this holiday – far more than he had expected – he also relished the occasional moment of solitude.  Both he and Grace could be solitary beings when they wanted to be, each perfectly happy in their own company – not that either of them had much opportunity for quiet times to themselves these days.  Besides which, photography was not a social hobby.  Bring along a guest and all wildlife would scatter, as you strolled through the woods, chatting away.  There was no doubt that if Grace had come along, it would have made for a pleasant morning, but he fancied indulging in his hobby all by himself for an hour or two, and he didn’t think that was too onerous a request.  He had precious little time at home for photography, life was just so busy.  Grace understood.

Tom was hopeful for some good pictures.  They’d seen all sorts of wildlife emerging from the woodlands into the chateau gardens, including deer, buzzards, owls, and Grace was adamant she’d seen the retreating behind of a wild boar as they’d walked after dinner one evening.  Much as he’d love to see a wild boar in the flesh – alive, and not in a tomato and red wine sauce – he half hoped the porcine inhabitants of the woods didn’t get too close, they did look a little intimidating… 

And it wasn’t just moving wildlife he wanted to photograph; you could get some stunning shots of ferns, mosses, fungi.  Enough to keep his camera clicking for a couple of hours, he thought.

To say Tom had had reservations about spending two weeks with the same friends in a confined space was an understatement.  They’d never before holidayed with anyone else, normally loving the freedom that a holiday as just a family gave.  No one else’s plans or expectations to get in the way of what they wanted to do.  He and James had pretty much grown up together, despite the age difference, which in adulthood was inconsequential.  James’ younger brother had been at school with Tom in Malvern, and the three boys had been firm friends throughout their formative years.  But recent events had conspired to alter Tom’s opinion of James. 

Some might say that Tom’s own track record shouldn’t give him permission to judge James, after all he had effectively poached another man’s fiancée, when Grace had left Mark to be with him.  But with the risk of sounding hypocritical, he didn’t feel the fall-out from his own acts was quite so terrible.  Yes, Mark had been hurt, but then his relationship with Grace had been in decline for a long while, and there had been no children involved, which for Tom, was the crucial factor.  What James had done had hurt his whole family, and put their livelihoods and financial security at stake as well.  James was lucky that Evie seemed to have managed to put it behind her – it was only a year ago, after all, which was still fairly recent in healing terms.  He and Grace were mightily relieved that their friends were back on track, but an incident like that made you question just how well you knew someone in the first place.

Tom had had plenty of opportunity on this holiday to observe Evie and James.  Not that he was making a positive effort to spy on them, but when you were staying under the same roof it was difficult not to pick up on certain things.  Tom thought he still detected some tensions between the pair, although they were doing their very best to get on with having a good time.  It seemed to be more from Evie’s perspective, he thought, which was understandable, as she and the girls had been the wounded parties.  Tom might be reading more into it than he should, but this morning he’d had the distinct impression that the last person Evie wanted to come along with her on her chateau trip was her own husband.

Despite all that, the two families had blended very well at the chateau, better than Tom had anticipated.  The older girls helped out a lot with the younger children, and moreover were happy to, even without being asked, which freed him and Grace up to spend more time alone together than they had been able to in a very long time.  He was thoroughly enjoying rediscovering the delights of spending time with just his wife; it was good to see that, after surviving the trials of bringing up twin babies, they still enjoyed one another’s company and had plenty to talk about – aside from the children.  But he knew it would take more than that to diminish the spark between the two of them, after all this was his amazing Grace they were talking about, the love of his life.  He couldn’t imagine where he would be today without her, and a smile lit up his face as he thought about his beautiful wife.  What a lucky man he was. 

A red kite, startled by Tom’s presence, shot from a nearby tree and flew directly overhead.  Tom, away in his reveries, soon snapped back into action, grabbing some great shots of the underside of its wings against a backdrop of deep emerald.  Stunning, those pictures would be, he thought, all modesty at his photographic skills blown away.  The kind of picture that would look great in greyscale on a canvas.  Wow, fantastic shots like that and this was just the beginning of his walk!  He hoisted his bag back onto his shoulder and ploughed on deeper into the woods.

His phone rang, startling not only him but any wildlife that might have been posing for him in the trees.  He’d forgotten to switch it to silent when he set off.  He pulled it from his pocket, expecting it to be Grace.

But it wasn’t Grace.

‘Hello, Sophie.’

It had taken Tom a long time to get back on his feet after he and Sophie split up.  As well as coping with a broken heart, the whole sorry situation left him feeling such a fool.  He couldn’t believe he had been taken in by her; he had given her his heart and soul, only for her to throw it all back in his face.  Why would anyone do that, especially to someone they were supposed to be in love with?  He failed to understand. 

He thought they were happy together, that they had everything they needed.  What she did destroyed his faith in the human race for a while.  As far as he was concerned, from now on it would be easier just to stay single, with no complications in his life.  But eventually the cliché of time being a great healer came to bear, and whilst he didn’t go actively looking for love for some time, it found him, in the form of Grace.  But nothing was ever straightforward – she had a fiancé already, and he felt he was trespassing onto another man’s territory.

To start with, Tom felt enormous guilt about his feelings for Grace.  How could he possibly contemplate getting involved with someone who was already in a relationship?  He was no home-wrecker, it just wasn’t in his nature.  But she had knocked him for six and now he didn’t know what to do.  How he’d managed to work with her for several years before noticing just how amazing she was, he couldn’t fathom.  But now he had noticed her, he couldn’t simply un-notice her again.

He supposed it was just a case of the timing being right for him, although for Grace, that was far from true.  Despite her situation, he thought she was giving off all the signals of a woman for whom outwardly, everything was going well, but he suspected there was far more going on in her home life than met the eye.  He was sure it wasn’t just wishful thinking on his part.

When she did eventually confide in him, by no means did he feel as though he had been given the green light to proceed; it was more of an amber, but still with some big flashing red warning lights.  An indication that maybe, just maybe, if he was careful and took things slowly, something might come of this. 

Grace and Mark had been together forever, he knew, and never before had Tom stepped in where there was another man on the scene, but you couldn’t help who you fell in love with, could you?  And he was convinced that it was love.  He couldn’t get her out of his head.  Of course lust played a major part too, but for now, Tom was happy just to be her friend, to wait for her, if there was a chance that one day she might be his.  She had a lot to sort out, and he didn’t want to complicate matters.  At the moment he was probably a complication that Grace could do without, until she had worked out what was going on at home, but he was here, and he certainly wasn’t going anywhere.

The first occasion when he had spent any significant amount of time in Grace’s company, other than on a work level, had been at Alex’s dinner party.  It was fate that they’d been seated next to each other; he’d found out more about her in those few short and very precious hours than he had in all the time they’d worked together.  And the chemistry, wow, the chemistry.  Even under the watchful eye of her fiancé, he could feel the electricity coming from her, as though she was plugged in at the mains and hot-wired to respond to him.  This was dangerous territory he was entering into, he knew that, and the angel and demon on his opposing shoulders were doing battle.

‘Are you sure you don’t mind being stuck with me for the evening, Grace?’ he’d asked her.  ‘Isn’t it bad enough that you have to put up with me all week, then you come out for a lovely evening, only to get stuck with me at the table?  I won’t be offended if you don’t speak to me all night, honest.’  Brave words, when Grace could quite easily have chosen that very moment to keep life simple, sensing danger ahead, deciding that her loyalties lay with Mark, and turning away to talk to Graham on her other side.

‘Don’t be silly,’ Grace said, smiling coyly.  ‘It’s lovely to see you away from work.’  He noticed the flush spreading up from her chest to her cheeks.  Champagne.  Always blame the champagne, but he liked to flatter himself by believing she would have behaved in the same way if she’d been drinking lemonade.  It was at that moment that the die was cast.  He knew right there and then that this woman would become something in his life, no matter the consequences.  He’d never been so bravado about a relationship before.  And it wasn’t even a relationship
–
yet.  He looked Grace in the eye and plunged straight in with both feet.

‘You look rather lovely tonight, Grace,’ he ventured bravely, leaning in closer.  Totally out of character for him, and he almost hoped in a devil-may-care way that Mark heard what he said. ‘Really hot,’ he added more quietly, then reeled back with his own shock, as well as hers, not quite believing that he could come out with something so bold.  Mark should pay a bit more attention to this fiancée of his, or he stood to lose her. 
Pistols at dawn, I’ll fight you for her
, he thought.  Now that really was the champagne talking. 

‘Lovely top, reminds me of that meeting…’ 
Really, Tom, why can’t you stop?
  He reprimanded himself. 
Honestly, this is another man’s woman, and here you are, chatting her up, right under his nose.  What kind of man are you?  She’s your colleague for goodness sake.  Behave.
  Knowing that he would have to face her at work next week, however much of a fool he made of himself tonight, didn’t seem to stop him.

Her knee brushed against his
–
whether accidentally or on purpose, he had no idea
–
and he thought he would explode.

Grace started off on her story of how she and Mark met, how she had speared his foot with her high heel when she was running for a train.  He thought he would boil over with jealousy.  If it had been his foot she had speared, he’d have offered her the other foot
–
anything to keep her there, and not let her run away from him at the station. 

‘Mark and I are soul mates,’ Grace said when the story was over.  Was it his imagination, or could he hear uncertainty in her voice? Or was it just wishful thinking on his part?  He thought the look she gave him showed that she had doubts in her convictions.

‘The only love story we haven’t heard yet is yours, Tom,’ James probed later on in the conversation.  How insensitive of him, Tom thought, given his acrimonious split from Sophie, all of which was public knowledge amongst his friends.  Typical of James to land his mate in the mud.  Subtle as a brick, as usual.

‘But I haven’t found the love of my life yet, so it doesn’t count.  When I do, I’ll regale you all with stories of how it was.’ 

Tom had actually just started seeing someone, and they’d only been on a couple of dates, but the timing was atrocious, given his current feelings towards Grace.  She might be unobtainable – for the moment, at least
–
but now she was in his head it was impossible to get her out.  He would speak to Alicia tomorrow, tell her it was over, before it had really begun.  It wasn’t right to string someone along if he knew already that his heart wasn’t in it.  He knew it was for the best, but it was a crying shame nonetheless, as she was a lovely person and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.  At any other time in his life he would have been more than happy to call her his girlfriend.  Still, better to be alone than with the wrong person, and much kinder on Alicia to break things off now, before they got too involved.

Tom had never kissed, nor even barely touched, this beautiful woman sitting beside him, so why, when he spoke of finding the love of his life, should she feel so significant?  He crossed his fingers under the table, making a silent wish for the future, and hoping he wasn’t being too presumptuous.

He hoped it wasn’t just his imagination, or the effects of too much alcohol, but he was sure he saw signs of recognition in Grace’s eyes.  Recognition of the fact that this was just the beginning of something momentous.

‘Sophie, um, hello.  How are you?’  She was the last person in the world he’d expected to hear from.  Ever again.  He knew his tone of voice conveyed that.

Sophie had walked out of his apartment, oh, how many years ago was it?  A long, long time ago now.  So much had happened since then.  It had been a pretty acrimonious split, and she had left him broken-hearted.  But fate had a reason for everything, and he thanked his lucky stars now that she had, or he’d never have got together with Grace.  Bad things happen so that other good things can follow.  Everyone has different coping mechanisms, and that was his.

A friend, Johnny, had reported seeing Sophie with another man, having a cosy dinner in a restaurant not far from the flat they shared.   Poor Johnny, finding himself in such an awkward position, had battled for days with the consequences of either telling or not telling his friend.  But his loyalty to Tom had won through against the thought that what he was about to tell him would blow his world apart.  Tom had the right to know that his girlfriend’s body language gave every indication that the other man she was with, was significantly more than a friend.  A lover, even.  Time after time Johnny had gone over in his own mind the implications of those heads close together across the table, fingers run through hair, coy smiles, gentle touches of a hand. It wasn’t too difficult to interpret the signs.

Tom was horrified at first, refusing to believe what Johnny told him, turning on his friend and accusing him of being jealous of him and Sophie, just because he was single at the moment.  It was cruel, and not what Johnny deserved.  But before she came home that evening, he had time to analyse the signs he had been trying to ignore over the past few weeks; the so-called works do’s and business dinners cropping up more than ever before, her slight chilliness towards him, those headaches she would always develop when they started to become intimate.  It was all so stereotypical that he thought it couldn’t possibly be happening to him – he was no textbook cuckold, surely?  He wouldn’t lower himself to checking through her bags and pockets for incriminating evidence; let her tell him herself when she came home.  He would confront her, force a confession. 

It didn’t take long for Sophie to confess, but what he really struggled with was the fact that the two of them had recently talked about settling down properly – marriage even.  How could anyone who supposedly loved him, talk of planning a life with him whilst she was seeing someone else?  It was the extent of her deception that he found so hard, and his failure to understand what would motivate someone to do that.  His transformation from the kind of man who liked to see the best in everyone, to a very cynical person, was instant, and it was only recently that he felt he was emerging from that bitter state of mind.  Johnny had welcomed his friend back with open arms, bearing no grudge for the hurtful things he had said in the heat of the moment, and had been a true friend to him during the low period in his life which followed the split.

‘Tom, I need to see you.’  The voice on the other end of the phone was insistent, snapping him back into the present.

‘Why, Sophie, what do you want?  I mean, after all this time, what can
you
possibly want with
me
right now?’  He was furious with her for calling him.  Once she’d left his flat with the clothes and few personal possessions she had deigned to leave there, which weren’t much to mark the best part of a year together, they’d had no further contact.  Hate was a strong word, that he didn’t like using, but hate her he did.  She had hurt him more than anyone ever before, and other than the few desperate days when he thought he had lost Grace back to Mark, he had never been so low in all his life.

‘Well, I thought it would be nice to catch up.’  Ha ha. Did she really think he was going to fall for that one?  And weren’t ‘needing to see him’ and ‘being nice to catch up’ poles apart?  Which one was the true reason in that warped mind of hers?

‘So, let me get this right.  You seem to think that after, oh, what must be at least six years of no contact, you can just call me up one day and casually suggest that we meet for coffee, because that would be
nice
?  What planet are you on exactly?’

‘Oh, come on, Tom, don’t be like that.  We always got on so well, didn’t we?’  He could imagine her twisting her hair round her fingers, childlike, as she so often used to do when she wanted to get her own way.  ‘We were good together, you and me.’

‘Yeah, right up until the moment when you decided to screw someone else. While you were still living with me.  Remember that?  Now listen, I don’t have time for this, so whatever it is you want, forget it, right, and just piss off and leave me alone.  Goodbye Sophie.’

Tom could have done with one of those big, old fashioned phones to slam back down onto its cradle.  Instead he had to make do with pressing a little red button to hang up the call, which didn’t make any sound at all and just wasn’t an angry enough action in the slightest, even if you put a strong arm into it.

The complete and utter bitch, what right did she have to invade this peaceful morning of his?  What right did she have to re-invade his life, full stop?

The mood was dead, there would be no more photos today.  He shoved his camera in his bag and marched back towards the chateau.

Grace could see something was up as soon as Tom appeared from the woods.  His face was puce and he was stomping.  Clearly what had upset him was bigger than just not managing to get some good shots.  He hadn’t been gone that long, but you could practically see the smoke coming from his ears.