That silky smooth voice was unmistakable. I’d heard it so many times in my dreams. His dark hair was now salt and pepper on the top, giving him a distinguished air.
‘Is there anything else you need?’ My words sounded distant and I was surprised I’d managed to form any at all. Why was he here? How was he here?
He finally looked up and I swear my heart stopped beating for a moment. It was him! Older but definitely him. Except Fen had said her brother’s name was James. Nothing was making sense.
‘You’re Fen’s brother?’ I asked, willing him to recognise me, but he only glanced at me briefly before a beep from his phone drew his attention downwards again and he released a heavy sigh.
‘Fen’s number’s in the bag if anything’s not clear,’ he said, staring at his phone.
Why didn’t he recognise me? Even a flicker of recognition would have been something. I felt foolish for thinking about him for twenty years when he clearly hadn’t been thinking about me. Then it struck me that I’d given him ample reason not to want to remember me. I’d checked out of the hotel and abandoned him without any explanation. If somebody had done that to me, I’d have done my hardest to remove all memory of them from my mind.
Will’s phone rang and he raised his eyes once more. My heart filled with hope. His glance had been far too fleeting before, but what about now? But he was clearly distracted by his phone ringing.
‘Is there anything else you need?’ he asked.
‘No. I’ve got everything, thanks.’ The words were laughable when the one thing I really wanted was standing right in front of me.
He nodded and left the shop, connecting the call before he reached the door. I watched in disbelief as he paced up and down in front of the window. Whatever the phone call was about, his stiff body language suggested it was an intense one. The call must have ended as he clutched his head in both hands. He looked to me like a man desperately in need of a hug but I could hardly dash out the shop and launch myself at him, no matter how much I ached to hold him in my arms again.
Next moment, Will lowered his hands and tilted his head to one side, something in the window evidently catching his eye. Veronica had been responsible for the most recent window change and I couldn’t remember what she’d put in there.
His phone rang again and he pressed it to his ear, returning to his pacing. Then he stopped dead, staring into the window once more and, this time, I was in no doubt as to what he was looking at. From the angle of his head, it had to be the posters Saffy had created of The Crafty Club. My photograph and my interests were on the side of the window he was focused on. The call ended and he stood there for several minutes, just staring. I couldn’t bear it. There was no reason for him to be so gripped by that poster unless he’d recognised me from my photo and realised I was inside the shop, but what was he going to do about it? Come in and politely ask if we used to know each other? Come in and demand to know why I’d run out on him two decades ago? Or walk away?
He turned his head away from the poster, cupped his hands round his face and peered into the shop. Panicking, I plucked a shirt from the bag and pretended to be preoccupied with it. The door remained firmly closed and, when I looked up, there was no sign of Will.
‘Damn it!’ I stamped one of my feet in frustration. What was wrong with me? I was a sixty-year-old woman who’d just behaved like a shy child. Why hadn’t I spoken to him? Despite the name difference, there was no mistaking who he was. I’d been thinking about and dreaming of this man for twenty years. I recognised his stature, his face, his voice. Fate had delivered him to my door in the year I’d decided to get a life and search for love. Could the universe be any more obvious? And I’d let him slip through my fingers. If I could turn back the clock ten minutes, I’d do it all so differently.
A few minutes later, the door opened and Will strode up to the counter and I stared at him, dumbstruck.
‘The picture of the music in the window – can I have a closer look?’
He held my gaze as he spoke this time but I still couldn’t tell whether he recognised me.
‘I’ll get it out for you.’ How I managed to keep my voice steady, I’ll never know.
It was easily retrieved and, as I glanced down at the music, my heart leapt. It was Debussy’s ‘Clair de Lune’ – the piece I’d played with my fingers outside Pianos of Distinction the evening we met.
‘I’ll take it, please. It reminds me of someone I met a long time ago.’ He looked up from the picture and fixed his gaze on mine. ‘She told me it made her mum think of floating on a lily pond, the sun on her cheeks, the breeze in her hair, at one with nature.’
He remembered! He recognised me after all! Tears pricked my eyes and my voice wobbled. ‘I’m so sorry, Will.’
‘I came back for you and you were gone.’
‘I know. I never intended to leave you but?—’
‘You don’t have to explain. I know your situation was difficult and I do understand. You were such a kind person, Yvonne, and it sounded like your husband was too. Of course it was going to be hard for you to walk away, especially to take a chance on someone you’d only just met.’
‘It wasn’t like that. It?—’
The door opened and a couple of young women entered and headed over to the scented candles. Talk about bad timing! I grabbed one of the shop’s business cards and scribbled my mobile number on the back.
‘I’m not making excuses…’ My eyes flicked towards the customers and Will nodded once more. ‘Something happened – something bad – and I had to leave. I wish I’d thought to leave you a message but…’ I shook my head. ‘Please give me a call so I can explain properly.’
He glanced across at the two women but they were sniffing the candles and deep in conversation.
‘Are you still married?’ he asked, his voice low.
I shook my head. ‘Widowed five years ago.’
