Fractured(18)

‘It's not true. I would have known. And he never said anything… not once, not in all those years…’

Something stirred at the back of my mind. An elusive memory, just out of reach.

‘Why do you think he hated me so much?’

‘He didn’t hate you.’ I jumped to my lost friend’s defence, but even as I uttered the denial I had to acknowledge that there had always been a frisson of antagonism between the two of them.

Once more Matt reached out, securing my face between his strong hands. ‘I had you, and he didn’t. There must have been times when he found that unbearable.’

My heart twisted at the pain I had unknowingly caused. This didn’t make anything better at all. It just made it a million times worse. I pulled back before he could kiss me, for I was certain that was what he had intended.

‘I can’t do this, Matt. Don’t do this to me. It’s just not fair.’

By this time my scrabbling hand had finally found the discreetly positioned door handle. I flung open the door, allowing cold December air and hopefully some sanity into the car. I was unbuckled and out of my seat before he could join me on the passenger side.

Perhaps he could see the distress he’d caused, or perhaps the brighter illumination from the hotel allowed him to see I really did feel as sick as I’d been claiming, for he sounded conciliatory.

‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, Rachel.’

I shook my head.

‘Just go. Go back to the restaurant. Back to Cathy.’

He nodded, but he didn’t look happy.

‘Will you be all right?’ His eyes searching my face were clearly concerned. ‘You don’t look very well.’

‘I’ll be OK. I just need to sleep off this headache. I’ll be fine.’

I could sense his reluctance to leave me so I summoned up a manufactured smile from some unknown well of strength. ‘Go.’

He smiled back. ‘I’m not going to give up on you, you know,’ he promised, getting back in his car. ‘You drove me off once but I’m not going to give in so easily this time.’

‘Go,’ I repeated, the entreaty threaded through with a note of desperation. And at last he did, the car sweeping across the forecourt and disappearing into the darkness with a flash of brake lights as it entered the flow of traffic.

As I wearily mounted the three stone steps to the hotel’s foyer, I couldn’t help but think his parting comment had sounded more like a threat than a promise.


When I finally swiped the key card into its slot and entered my hotel room, I was surprised to see that it was only a little after ten o’clock. It had felt much later. I kicked off my shoes and sank gratefully onto the bed. Drawing a pyramid of pillows up behind me, I switched off all but the bedside lamp and lay back with my eyes closed. The headache was still at fever pitch, and I was afraid it had settled in for the night. I also knew it was far too soon to take more painkillers and at this rate the bottle would be emptied long before the wedding, so I knew I had to start rationing myself.

I tried for fifteen minutes to clear my mind but it refused to empty. The day kept spooling through my tortured head in slow motion. I saw again and again the look in Janet’s eyes as she spoke of her dead son and how much she said I had always meant to him. I heard again my own denial, the same denial I had uselessly echoed to Matt when he had made the same claim. I couldn’t believe they were both right. That everyone had been right.

Was it really possible to have been so blind, to have missed such a vital truth in our relationship? These were impossible questions to answer. And the tragedy of knowing I would never, could never, be sure was crumbling my resolve not to allow my thoughts to reach out for Jimmy. I needed him now, at this moment, more than ever; to hear his voice, to look into the smile that always lived in his eyes for me.

Without pausing to make a conscious decision, I swung my legs off the bed and groped around for my shoes. The lateness of the hour didn’t worry me. I knew there was only one place I could go now to ask these questions, to say what I had to say.


The night had turned even colder when I once more walked past the bemused doorman who had bidden me goodnight on my way in only twenty minutes before. The cold wind numbed my face as I turned and began walking swiftly to my destination. If challenged, I could always claim that I’d taken the walk to find relief from my headache, but in reality I needed an altogether different kind of solace. And the location held no horrors for me. How could it? There was nothing to fear from a ghost when they were someone you loved.

The dark streets were almost deserted; it was too cold and late for an evening stroll. My feet crunched lightly on pavements already beginning to glaze with a light frosting of ice. When the wind bit into my face with icy fangs, I burrowed my chin deeper into my scarf and walked into its vicious jaws with steely determination.