Fractured(59)

There may have been more uncomfortable car journeys in my life, but that one was right up there with the worst of them. The strain of not talking about the topic we both couldn’t avoid thinking about was monumental. And yet, as mile followed mile, neither of us dared to voice the subject and when finally we passed the sign that announced we were now in our home town there was, thankfully, no time left.

As we manoeuvred through the familiar side streets and turnings, I was itching to get out of the car, desperately hoping that by exiting the vehicle I could somehow leave behind the debris of last night. And then, just when I thought that the day couldn’t possibly get any worse, it just did.

We rounded the last bend and there, parked directly in front of my house, was a low sleek car.

‘Terrific,’ muttered Jimmy, pulling in to the kerb to park behind it.

I looked up in confusion at the unfamiliar vehicle and then my eye fell upon the registration plate: MR 10. Matt’s car.

Jimmy switched off the engine and turned to look at me, properly at me, for the first time since last night.

‘Rachel, I wanted to say… to explain…’

I shook my head. ‘Please, don’t say anything, it’s not necessary.’

He reached out and took my hand, and part of me wanted to jerk back from his touch and an even greater part wanted to hold him against me for ever. He saw my hand judder under his and misinterpreted the reaction.

‘I know you must hate me right now,’ he continued, ‘but please give me a chance to—’

I never heard what he wanted the chance to do or say, for at that moment the passenger door was swung widely open by a rather impatient-looking Matt.

He saw my hand in Jimmy’s, even though I had yanked it away as speedily as if it were caught in a flame. Forestalling any comment, I quickly scrambled out of the car.

‘Matt, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Germany for another three days?’

Matt drew me into an enveloping embrace, which I think was more for Jimmy’s benefit than mine. By the time I was released, Jimmy had also climbed out of the car.

‘I wound things up really quickly; thought you might need me more back here. But I see you managed to make… alternative arrangements.’

God, here it was again. That old revisited teenage rivalry that had so fascinated me in the hospital, only now it was just petty and irritating.

‘Jimmy very kindly gave up his day off to take me into London. I had a lot of things I needed to sort out and he offered to take me.’

Matt raised his gaze to meet Jimmy’s over the roof of the car that stood between them.

‘And his night, of course. He gave up his night too.’

I could see where this was going and I didn’t like it one little bit. So far, Jimmy hadn’t risen to the bait, but I could feel the testosterone-infused tension eddying around me like a miniature tornado.

‘It was too late to come back last night, so we found a hotel and stayed in town. Dad knew what our plans were.’

Matt nodded, and I wondered what his reaction had been when he had arrived here and learnt from my father that Jimmy and I had been away together overnight.

‘We were lucky to find somewhere that had two rooms available at such short notice,’ I supplied, clumsily attempting to let Matt know that everything had been above board. I was babbling, I could hear that even to my own ears. And I was also annoyed at my compulsion to explain our movements, knowing all the time that as my fiancé, Matt was perfectly entitled to ask where I had been. I was also embarrassed at the need to lie.

‘It was all perfectly respectable,’ I assured Matt, moving away from Jimmy’s car and turning to walk up the path.

‘I’m sure it was,’ replied Matt, and while his words implied he had never doubted it for a minute, the look he gave Jimmy said something different entirely. ‘You not coming in?’ he asked, as Jimmy walked towards him, passing over my small overnight bag. I stopped then, halfway to door; I had assumed they were both following me inside.

‘No, not this time. I’ve got some things I have to do. And I’m sure you want to spend some time alone with Rachel. She has a lot to tell you.’

I felt the betraying colour begin to warm my cheeks. Don’t blush, don’t blush, oh please, God, don’t let me blush.

Matt looked from Jimmy to me, the suspicion on his face only just managing to masquerade as curiosity.

‘About the magazine,’ Jimmy provided, already half back into the car. ‘G’bye, Rachel.’

I wanted to run to him then, to launch into his arms and beg him not to go. Ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous. And of course I did nothing of the sort, my feet remaining rooted to the path as though fixed there in cement. But I didn’t like the permanent tone of Jimmy’s goodbye: I didn’t like it at all.