His expression – which I hadn’t been able to read so far – turned soft. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you.’
I held the card out towards him, my heart racing, praying he wouldn’t reject me like he must have assumed I’d rejected him, but thankfully he reached for it. His fingers brushed mine, sending a fizz of electricity throughout my body.
‘I’d like to hear the explanation but things are complicated in my life at the moment and I’m not at my best. I don’t want what’s going on now to cloud our conversation so it might be some time before you hear from me, but I promise Iwillget in touch. There’s a lot to say.’
‘There is.’
He picked up the framed music. ‘I haven’t paid you for this yet. How much is it?’
‘No charge. I’d like you to have it. Small peace offering to remember a special weekend.’
‘Thank you. Do you still play?’
‘Only just started again. That weekend, you told me I’d helped you rediscover your love of music but what I did to you lost me mine.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.Idid that – not you.’
He gave me a weak smile then left. I watched the door close behind him, my heart pounding and I couldn’t leave it there. Locking the till, I ran down the shop and out the door.
‘Will!’ I called.
He halted and turned as I ran up to him, stopping about a foot away.
‘I can’t not tell you. The hospital rang. Cliff had been in a serious car crash. I wasn’t thinking. I packed my case and raced home, terrified I’d be too late. After the crash, when I knew he was going to be all right, I didn’t know how to find you. I should have tried harder, but I didn’t know how to leave him either.’
The wind blew a strand of hair across my face and I imagined Will tucking it behind my ear, his fingers brushing against my skin, sparks of electricity zipping through us both as we united in a passionate clinch just as we’d done in a shop doorway that rainy night in Manchester. But it was me who pushed my hair aside. No sparks, no clinches.
‘I will call,’ he said. ‘I promise.’
‘Okay.’
‘Goodbye, Yvonne. For now, anyway.’
‘Bye for now.’
As he disappeared round the corner, my heart sank. I so badly wanted to chase him but I needed to let him go. I was ready for this but he clearly wasn’t. What was that saying about letting go of someone you loved? Something about them coming back if they were yours but never being yours in the first place if they didn’t. Was Will mine? Only time would tell.
40
‘Sorry about that,’ I said as I returned to the shop, forcing a smile on my face and brightness into my voice. ‘Customer forgot his change.’
They both looked at me, bewildered expressions on their faces, and I suspected they hadn’t even noticed me leave.
‘Can I help you with anything?’ I asked.
‘Just trying to decide which fragrance a friend would like best,’ one of them said. ‘We’ve narrowed it down to three.’
‘That’s a good start. Shout if you need me.’
They resumed their sniffing and I returned to the counter. Had that just happened? Had Will really just walked into my shop? Feeling shaken and needing to focus on something work-related, I retrieved the envelope from the bag he’d given me and found sixty pounds and a note asking for six bears rather than four, as well as the details about the favourite shirts and Fen’s dad’s personality. I had everything I needed and felt excited about creating six new memory bears.
The women finally made their choice and left. Across the afternoon, I replayed the encounter with Will on a loop in my head, thinking of so many better things I could have said. Could I have blown it by chasing him down the street and blurting out what had happened? He’d already told me he was interested in the full explanation but had too much going on in his life to hear it right now. I’d listened but I’d ignored him. That was disrespectful of me.
Between customers, I finished making my memory bear but I was too distracted by Will to experience the usual feeling of satisfaction and jubilation that accompanied the completion of any sewing project.
