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Fractured(65)

By:Dani Atkins


‘I’m sorry, Matt. I will try harder. Really I will. Just give me a little longer. Just give me time to get… well again.’ My heart gave a little trip hammer. I had almost said to get over Jimmy!

His fingers lifted my chin, holding my face towards his in a long-ago remembered way.

‘Just don’t take too long, huh?’

And then he kissed me, long and passionately, as if to show me what I was missing out on. And I kissed him back, because I felt guilty; because I used to love him very much indeed and because… and because he was Matt.

He dropped his bombshell a few minutes after my father had walked into the kitchen, unsubtly interrupting our embrace by announcing his arrival at the threshold with a small ‘Hrrumph’.

‘I’m really sorry, Rachel, but I’m going to have to head back to London today instead of tomorrow.’

I was still feeling guilty about how I had reacted, so I sounded genuinely regretful when I replied, ‘Do you have to? I thought we were planning to spend the day together.’

His look was remorseful but his determination didn’t waver.

‘I’m sorry, something important has come up at work and I have to sort it out today.’

‘On a Sunday?’

‘You know I often have to work at weekends.’

‘Actually, I don’t know that. Amnesia. Remember?’

I could have dropped it then but something in his eyes had trip-wired my feminine intuition.

‘Does it have something to do with that call you got from work last night?’

For a moment he looked blank, then in quick succession another expression fell across his handsome face, followed swiftly by a look of regret.

‘Yes, it does actually. There’s some crisis I have to deal with that just can’t wait until Monday. You just have a relaxing day with your dad and I’ll call you tonight, OK?’

He left some ten minutes later, kissing me goodbye in the hall and shaking my father’s hand. We stood at the open doorway watching his car pull away from the kerb in a gleam of chrome and a squeal of rubber.

‘What a shame he had to leave so soon,’ said my father at last, when the car had finally disappeared from sight. I knew he wasn’t sorry at all and gave him a long look which spoke volumes. But it did make me wonder how many more lies I was going to be told that day.


The rest of the day passed uneventfully enough. I spent an hour or so trying, and failing, to get my father’s cat to like me, another hour wondering what urgent Cathy-related crisis had suddenly required Matt’s presence in London, and the rest of the time trying very hard, and also failing, not to think about Jimmy at all. The only bright point of the day had been an unexpected telephone call from Sarah who had just returned from her honeymoon. She and David were spending the night with her parents, but we made arrangements to meet for lunch the following day before she and her new husband returned to Harrogate.

I fell asleep that night with something pleasant to look forward to and, for once, was not disturbed by dreams.





10


We’d arranged to meet by a small bistro in the high street, and as usual I was there long before Sarah arrived. The weather had turned even colder overnight and although wrapped in warm scarf and gloves I could feel the December air, heavy with the threat of snow, taking vicious swipes at my face and legs.

And then Sarah arrived, spilling out of the taxi in a tumble of warmth and sunshine which instantly transported me back to memories of our youth. She enveloped me in the most rib-breaking hug, quite a feat for someone a good six inches smaller than me, and it was some time before either of us felt able to break apart.

When we did, the tears that were in my eyes matched those sparkling in her own and we both erupted into laughter, which was the only way we could stop ourselves from crying.

‘How are you, my lovely?’

It took a while to reply, for the old greeting had brought a huge lump to my throat, and my face was still deeply buried into her shoulder. We were getting some pretty curious stares from passers-by too, but neither us could care less about that.

‘Still alive, but slightly insane.’ I felt that was a pretty accurate précis of my current situation.

‘No change at all there then,’ she replied, linking her arm into mine and steering us both towards the restaurant. ‘Let’s get out of the cold and you can tell me all about it.’ Adding impishly as we went, ‘Do you know, it’s really much colder here than it is in St Lucia at the moment?’

We waited until we were seated and had ordered drinks before speaking properly. And then, when we did, we both began at once.

‘So how are things really, have you got your memory back yet?’