His hand brushed hers as he loaded her bags into the boot. They both jumped slightly at the contact. It was stupid, they had shared a bed, their bodies and their lives for the past ten years – even longer if you counted the bit pre-bed and pre-co-habitation – and now they couldn’t even touch a harmless bit of skin without feeling awkward.
‘Here,’ she said to him. ‘You’d better have this back.’ Gardenia handed him her credit card.
‘Won’t you need it?’
‘You always were too soft, Dan,’ she said without unkindness.
‘But you might need it,’ he said.
‘I’ll manage.’ She got in the car. ‘Besides, I might wake up one morning in a foul mood and exact some horrendous financial revenge on you. It’s better if I give it back. Clean break and all that.’
He thought he heard a catch in her voice. ‘I’ve never begrudged you money, Gardi.’ It was too late to be saying these things now. ‘Not really.’
‘I know.’
‘I’ll pay the bill when it comes.’
‘That’s nice.’ She shut the door, but opened the electric window. Dan leaned one hand on the roof of the car. ‘Perhaps you should give it to Rose.’
‘Don’t be like that.’
Gardenia started the engine. ‘You’re much better suited to her than you were to me.’ She put the car into gear. ‘Be happy, Dan.’
‘You too.’ He stood away from the car.
‘I did love you,’ she said without emotion. ‘Once.’ The window slid silently back into place, cocooning her in the jaded luxury of a Mercedes with too many miles on the clock.
Gardenia swung out of the drive and Dan watched the tail lights growing smaller as she drove away down Lavender Hill. She turned right towards Milton Keynes and the little red dots disappeared into the enveloping blackness of the night. It was still raining. Dan stared bleakly into the darkness and wondered when the once had been.
Chapter Thirty-One
Rose flicked on the carriage light by the front door and peered through the security peephole. Years of paranoid living in London were hard to undo. People said that villages were far, far safer than cities, but she had still managed to acquire a lurking pervert from somewhere so her insecurities weren’t in a tearing hurry to be dashed.
Dan stood at the door. Even in the fish-eye lens she could tell he was white-faced. He looked more scruffy and bedraggled than she had ever seen him. His hair was flattened to his head with rain, making him look as if he’d had an uncontrolled frenzy with a tube of hair gel. Water dripped steadily from his strong aquiline nose and splashed on the coir mat that said ‘WELCOME’ in big black letters, which she had put there in a vain attempt to stop clients walking muddy shoes through the house.
She was wearing her comfy towelling dressing gown, her hair was wet too – from the shower rather than the rain – and her feet were bare. Which somehow made it worse. Dan had never seen her bare feet apart from the morning after the Viking supper when he had woken up with them wedged under his chin, but at the time he probably wasn’t in a fit state to remember it.
Rose opened the door. Halfway. Like you would if it was a double glazing salesman or the milkman who was going to catch you in your dressing gown.
‘Hi,’ he said, sounding as feeble as he looked.
‘Hi,’ she replied, leaning on the doorframe and burying herself as deep in the towelling as she could.
His face was illuminated weakly in the 60 watt bulb from the lamp. ‘Gardenia’s gone.’
‘Gone?’
‘Gone,’ he echoed.
‘Where?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘What do you mean you don’t know.’
‘I don’t know where she’s gone.’
‘Didn’t she say?’
‘No.’
‘What, nothing?’
‘No. She wouldn’t talk at all.’ He rubbed his hand over his wet hair. ‘They say actions speak louder than words and Gardenia’s action was to pack a suitcase. Well, two suitcases to be accurate.’ He looked pathetically endearing as he looked at her. ‘Two very full suitcases.’
‘And she just went?’
He nodded and shrugged and raised his eyebrows and made as many other little uncomfortable gestures as one body could cope with in an emotional crisis.
‘Why?’ Rose persisted.
‘She blamed you.’
Rose sighed. ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’
‘I don’t blame you,’ Dan said with a faint smile.
‘That’s some consolation.’ Rose returned his smile.
He stared up at the sky and held out his hand. Great splots of rain splashed on his palm. ‘Look, would you mind if I came inside. I’m in serious danger of drowning if I stay out here much longer.’
Rose shifted uneasily against the doorframe, balancing one bare foot on top of the other. ‘Er . . .’ Her voice stuck in her throat and refused to come out. ‘This isn’t really a good time,’ she said eventually.
Dan looked at her in distress. A drip dripped from his nose to her doorstep. ‘This isn’t a good time?’
She stared sheepishly at the floor. ‘Not really.’
Dan laughed and it had an unpleasant hollow ring that scared her. ‘I come to you when my life is crumbling round my ears looking for succour, solace and somewhere dry to talk, and you calmly stand there and tell me that this isn’t a good time?’ Dan shook his head in disbelief. ‘When is?’
‘I was expecting you to come back last night and you didn’t.’
Dan’s eyes widened. ‘Would that have made a difference?’
She had never heard Dan sound annoyed before. Not really annoyed.
‘It might have done.’ Rose bit her lip nervously.
Primarily, because Hugh hadn’t turned up on her doorstep out of the blue then. If Dan had been here to support her when the ex-love-of-her-life had arrived she might have had the courage to tell him to get lost. Hugh not Dan. As it was, she hadn’t. And things had changed. They were confused and blurred at the edges and she could feel the panic of insecurity and uncertainty rising in her. Was it simply the jolt of seeing Hugh so unexpectedly that had scattered her emotions to the wind like a handful of Basil’s lawn seed? She never thought that he would find her, or even come looking. And just when she thought she had finally got over Hugh he had pulled her back towards him, sucking her down under his charm as deadly as a riptide.
‘I was at the hospital with Anise, as well you know,’ Dan said. ‘For five long hours. I couldn’t just abandon ship and rush back to your arms.’ A smile pushed through his anger. ‘Much as I would have liked to.’
‘Is there a problem here, Rosie?’ Hugh’s laid back drawl drifted from behind her.
Rose’s eyes widened with panic.
Dan leaned past her and pushed the door open with a touch more brute force than was necessary outside of a Bruce Willis movie. It swung wide, straining on its hinges. Hugh was standing on the stairs wearing nothing but a peach fluffy towel round his waist and a smug smile.
Rose could feel a blush starting at her toes, which spread up her body until its fire burst out of the top of her dressing gown on to her face.
‘No,’ she stammered. ‘Please leave us alone, we have something to discuss. Privately.’
‘Okay.’ Hugh winked at her and sauntered back up the stairs.
Dan’s face was no longer white, it was black. ‘So we’ve got something to discuss, have we?’ he said tightly.
‘You were telling me about Gardenia.’
‘It doesn’t matter now.’ He glowered at the empty stair where Hugh had been standing.
Rose sighed and closed her eyes. If she wished very hard perhaps she could make all this go away. She opened her eyes and a very wet, very hurt Dan stared back at her.
‘I don’t need to ask who that is, do I?’ He flicked his thumb towards the stairs.
‘Probably not,’ Rose said dejectedly. ‘And this probably isn’t what you th
ink it is, either.’
‘Well, I’m glad you’re not a mind reader, Rose, because your ears wouldn’t just burn if you knew what I was thinking now, they would more than likely explode into balls of flame.’
‘Dan, please believe me, nothing’s going on.’ Tears were trembling on her eyelashes.
‘I’m not blind, Rose. Or stupid.’
‘He came to talk.’
‘Couldn’t he have “talked” with his clothes on?’ He let his eyes travel disdainfully over her dressing gown. ‘And what about you? Did you have to take your clothes off to listen to him?’
‘It was an accident.’ Rose rubbed the palm of her hands over her eyes. ‘I was in my treatment room blending some oils. He leaned over to kiss me—’
‘First he’s talking, now he’s kissing! I take it he didn’t get the cold spoon treatment either.’
‘Tried to kiss me,’ Rose corrected bleakly. ‘I moved away from him – too quickly – and we knocked over my huge container of almond oil. It went all over Hugh’s trousers and I managed to get it all over my clothes when I was trying to mop it up.’ She spread her hands in a pleading gesture. ‘We were both covered in it. We had to take a shower.’
‘Together?’
She turned despondent eyes to him. ‘I’m not even going to answer that, Dan.’
He lowered his voice and spoke between gritted teeth. ‘I really thought we had something special going. You disappoint me, Rose.’
The tears splashed on to Rose’s cheeks. ‘What gives you the right to judge me? I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.’
That wasn’t strictly true. She had done plenty she was ashamed of, but not tonight. It had been so difficult not to give in to Hugh. He had found her and was begging her to go back to him. He was offering her the moon and the stars. It was all she had wanted, longed for, throughout the years they were together. And it could have been hers, but she had turned it down. She had thought of Dan and that had given her the strength she needed to resist him.
‘What can I do to make this right?’ Rose pleaded.
‘Let me in and throw him out,’ Dan said starkly.
Rose closed her eyes and breathed heavily. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘Then I might as well leave.’ Dan turned to go.
‘Please!’ Rose tugged his arm and he wheeled back. She edged herself out into the pouring rain. ‘He’s left his wife for me. Things are all up in the air – I can’t just throw him out now. We need to sort this out once and for all. Give me until tomorrow. Twenty-four hours, Dan. That’s all I’m asking. I’ve told you a thousand times it’s over with Hugh. Give me until tomorrow and he’ll be gone.’
‘Tomorrow will be too late.’
‘A few hours then. That’s all I need.’
Dan stared at her. ‘No can do,’ he said coldly. ‘He goes now or I do.’
‘I know you’re angry and hurt and this looks really bad, but can’t you understand my dilemma?’
‘This is a dilemma, is it? Oh, I do beg your pardon.’
‘You know what I mean, Dan. Don’t be like this.’ Rose rubbed her forehead. ‘I’m not saying the right things because I’m upset and confused.’ She sighed and tried to focus her scrambled thoughts. ‘Hugh has left his wife and his children. Do you understand what that means?’
‘Yes,’ Dan answered tightly. ‘It means he’s finally offering you some measly crumb of hope after years of stringing you along. You’ve said as much yourself.’
Rose felt something snap inside her. She was fed up with being everyone’s doormat. Her life was spent trying to please everyone else and she always seemed to end up pleasing no one. Especially herself. There was a blankness inside her and she knew she could take no more. She had tried so hard to become part of the village and still they treated her like an outsider. Dan had been her one true ally. Her one true love. And now even he had turned against her. Enough was enough.
‘Were you any different?’ Rose challenged him. ‘The fact that you were living with Gardenia didn’t stop you from wanting to get in my underwear, did it?’
‘We weren’t married!’
‘You mean you didn’t have a piece of paper that made it legal. Emotionally, is it any different? You should have been committed to her.’
Dan’s face hardened. ‘I can hardly believe you’re saying this! You did precious little to discourage me. And for your information, we were jogging along quite nicely until you came along!’
‘Were you?’ Rose looked astonished. ‘Are you sure? Because from where I was standing it looked like you were on your last gasping breaths of an uphill struggle!’
Dan’s face was stony and unflinching. ‘I once said that I couldn’t imagine you as the other woman, Rose. You’ve made it a lot easier tonight. Thanks for that.’
‘Is there anything else you’d like to get off your chest? Or have you quite finished?’
‘No, I haven’t finished!’ Dan was very wet now. His shirt was sticking to his body and his shoes were emitting a nasty little squelch as he paced up and down in front of her. If it hadn’t been quite so pitiful, it would have been funny. ‘You’re right.’ He pointed at Rose. ‘I should have been committed! Committed to a loony bin for thinking that you could ever care about me when all you’ve ever cared about is yourself and that smooth, slimy American bastard.’
The tears welled in Rose’s eyes once more. ‘I think you’ve said more than enough, Dan.’
‘I don’t think I’ve said nearly enough!’ he railed.
She hugged her arms across her chest protectively. The temperature had plummeted. If this rain ever stopped, there would be a hard frost, or maybe even snow. It summed up her mood perfectly – a drizzling, drenching, drowning deluge. She looked at Dan. A quiet calm settled over her and it was much more disquieting than the torrent of emotions she had been experiencing only moments ago.
‘Go on, then,’ she said with wearied resignation.
‘I think . . .’ he shouted. His feet squelched across the gravel. ‘I think . . .’ he said more quietly. He came to a halt and stood in front of her, breathing heavily. Steam came in exasperated pants from his mouth and from his flared nostrils. His face was once more ashen and bleak. ‘Er, I think I’ve said enough.’
‘In that case,’ Rose said softly. ‘It would be nice if you would go now.’
A spark lit in Dan’s eyes again. ‘So that’s it, is it?’
‘It would seem so.’
‘Just go?’
Rose nodded sadly.
‘Fine.’ Dan’s mouth was set in a tight line.
There was a sadness, an emptiness in his eyes that made Rose’s resolution waver. Why was she doing this? Dan had a right to be angry. She had given him every reason to think that there might be a future for them. It was what she wanted. What she had dreamed of. Wasn’t it? And, not a day later, he had found her in what must look like a scene from a Carry On film. She had tried to explain honestly why Hugh was here and, more importantly, half-naked. But he hadn’t been willing to listen to her side of the story.
He had come to her when she needed him and she had turned him away like an unwelcome gatecrasher at a private party. Which, essentially, he had been. Suddenly, the realisation of it didn’t make her feel any better. Was she going mad? She had been so sure it was Dan that she wanted until now – not Hugh. How on earth had she got into this situation? Rose stared at Dan blankly, uncertain what to do for the best.
‘That’s fine,’ he repeated tersely. ‘If that’s what you want, I will go.’ He turned and walked away up the drive.
‘Dan,’ she called out to his back. ‘Don’t! We’ve both said things we don’t mean. Come back. Please! We can sort this out.’ She ran out into the rain after him. ‘If you go like this, I’ll never forgive you.’
He stopped stock still and turned towards her as the rain lashed around him. His hair was plastered to his head, the water was coursing down his face and Rose was sure she could see tears mingling with the driv
ing rain. ‘Never is a very long time, Rose.’ His voice was as sharp and icy as the pelting rain. ‘And besides, it isn’t your forgiveness I want, it’s you.’
‘Dan!’ A lump came to her throat and his name came out as a feeble plea that was cruelly snatched and tossed aside by the wind.
He gave her one last look and it was an expression of such pain and hurt that she never wanted to see it on anyone else’s face as long as she lived. Dan turned from her and disappeared into the night.
Chapter Thirty-Two
DISCOVERING DECISIVENESS
Clary Sage, Cedarwood, Patchouli.
We are constantly faced with difficult choices. We can never be sure that the path we take will be better than the one we have turned our backs on. This intuitive blend will help you make that choice and give you the calm assurance that what you have decided is right for you!
from: The Complete Encyclopaedia of Aromatherapy Oils by Jessamine Lovage
‘What am I going to do with you?’ Rose flopped on to the edge of the bed, her body and her mind as weary as each other. She had cried downstairs until she couldn’t cry any more and then had climbed the stairs to find Hugh had made himself comfortable in her bed. ‘Bastard,’ she said without feeling.
‘You know you don’t mean that,’ Hugh replied with an easy smile.
‘Here.’ She threw his trousers at him. ‘They’ve come straight out of the tumble dryer. They’re a bit creased, but they’ll do.’
Laying the trousers next to him on the bed, Hugh rested his hands casually behind his head. He was bathed in the soft glow from the bedside lamp and looked lean, fit and healthy.
‘May I ask who he was?’
‘His name’s Dan Spikenard and he’s a local builder.’
‘And local heart-throb?’
Rose didn’t answer.
‘He wasn’t your type.’ Her ex-lover smiled sardonically.
She pursed her lips miserably. ‘He thought we’d been in the shower together.’
Hugh raised one eyebrow. ‘That would’ve been nice.’
Rose ignored his comment and frowned. ‘And probably a lot worse.’
‘That would have been even nicer,’ he said with a lazy grin.