‘What did Phil tell her about me being away?’
‘The truth, Eva. That everything got too much for you after Sophie died, and that you were cracking up. Do you know what she said?’
‘No, tell me.’
‘“I felt so ashamed that I didn’t tell her how glad I was she came to see me. She bought me such lovely clothes, and it was she who really motivated me to get myself together. I have to be on my own too when I’m troubled. I bet even now she’s wanting to come back, but afraid you don’t want her any more.”’
Eva’s eyes filled up again.
‘Don’t,’ Patrick said, and with his thumb he wiped her tears away. ‘Celebration time now. So let’s drink to the future? You’ve got a good man, a sister and a brother to go back to. And I’ll be around too.’
Eva had felt she was happy earlier, but now she felt she just might burst with it. Life, it seemed, was offering her a second chance. She was going to take it with both hands.
‘To new beginnings,’ she said, raising her glass.
Patrick clinked with his glass. ‘And happy ever after, like my Mr Bear books,’ he grinned.
It was two thirty in the afternoon on the following day when Patrick put Eva’s case into a taxi to take her to Naples airport. He was going to stay on at the hotel for a few days, then go to Rome to meet up with an old friend. He said he had rung Phil that morning, as soon as he’d arranged her flight home.
‘I’m scared,’ Eva admitted and leaned against his chest.
Scared didn’t really cover it. She was in a state of elation mixed with terror.
‘Flying’s nothing these days,’ he said, even though he knew perfectly well it wasn’t the flight home she was afraid of. He hugged her tightly. ‘Everything will be fine, trust me. Now clear off so I can get back to some sunbathing.’
She laughed then.
‘That’s better,’ he said approvingly. ‘And I forgot to say you look so gorgeous that if there’re any newshounds at Heathrow waiting for someone famous to appear, they’ll think you’re a celebrity and they’ll start snapping you.’
Eva was actually very pleased with her appearance. She’d bought the short pink silk dress and matching jacket a couple of weeks earlier in Capri, and had been shocked at how many lira it cost. But it had been irresistible; it fitted her perfectly, and it made her feel like a film star. She’d had her hair cut and blow-dried that morning, and she looked so different from the pale miserable girl who had left London four months ago. She could hardly believe it.
‘Off with you.’ Patrick kissed her on both cheeks and nudged her into the taxi. ‘When I get back, we’ll all go out to dinner.’
Eva’s suitcase was one of the first to come round on the carousel. As she moved forward to take it off, a man lifted it for her and smiled at her. ‘A pretty woman shouldn’t have to haul her own case,’ he said.
She blushed and thought how odd it was that she got compliments like that all the time now. But perhaps it was only her tan.
Clutching the bag with duty-free Bacardi and some Chanel aftershave for Phil in one hand, and dragging her case along behind her, she passed through Customs and out into the arrivals hall, wondering whether she could justify the expense of a taxi rather than a bus or the tube. There were lots of people waiting, many of them holding up cards with a name on, and a young man just ahead of her was nearly knocked over by a girl who ran towards him full tilt to welcome him with a hug.
Then she saw Phil.
He was just leaning on the rail, smiling at her, and he’d clearly spotted her some time before she’d seen him. Her legs turned to rubber, her heart began to race. How like him to surprise her.
He looked far more handsome than she remembered. He was very tanned, wearing a pale-blue short-sleeved shirt and smart grey trousers. His smile lit up the whole arrivals hall.
She tried to run to him, but the wheels on the case seemed to stick to the floor. But suddenly he was there in front of her, arms open wide, and she forgot the case and threw herself into his embrace.
‘Welcome home, babe,’ he said. ‘You look amazing.’
He caught hold of the case with one hand, and her with the other. Then he drew her over to a spot near a wall, and kissed her.
Nothing in the world was so good. Warm, loving and full of promise for the night ahead. It sent tingles all through her body to her toes.
‘Patrick said you’d be waiting at home,’ she said when he finally released her.
‘Do you really think I could wait there?’ He laughed. ‘Anyway, we aren’t going home tonight. My brother is back there again. So I’ve got us a room in a posh hotel in Bayswater. We’ve got a lot of time to make up for.’
Eva felt unable to speak as they walked to the car park. There was so much she wanted to say, to ask, but the words just wouldn’t form.
As they approached the van she remembered the day they first met, and how he’d helped her into the front seat and put the seat belt around her as if she was a child. And all at once she knew what she had to say.
‘Will you forgive me?’
He stopped, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and his hand lingered on her cheek. ‘For what?’ He smiled. ‘For just having a wobbly attack and needing space? You don’t need forgiveness for that. I’m your lover, not your keeper.’
She put her arms around him and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. Just the word ‘lover’ sent delicious thrills down her spine.
It was going to be a night to remember.
Acknowledgements
A huge thank you to Emma Housby, who sent me so much material about Carlisle in the 1970s. It never ceases to amaze me that people I have never met will rally round to help with research just because they are kind.
Also, thank you to everyone in Carlisle who offered me snippets of information while I was there researching. You are wonderful.
Last, but not least, a virtual hug to everyone at Carlisle Central Library for the warm welcome you gave me. I love your city and its friendly people so much.
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First published 2013
Copyright © Lesley Pearse, 2013
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Jacket photography: Craig Fordham
All rights reserved
Typeset by Palimpsest Book Production Limited, Falkirk, Stirlingshire
ISBN: 978-0-718-15902-3
Lesley Pearse, Forgive Me
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