He’d never loved her, she realised as the ink blue of the sky faded to a blanket of black. He’d never intended to be with her.
Thirty-Five
Emily
As Emily came away from the makeshift bar in the village hall, Joyce hurried across to her and caught hold of her hands. ‘Thank you,’ she said, nodding across to Edward, who was doing his thing on the dance floor, along with several of their neighbours, to the Liverpool Lads’ version of ‘Twist and Shout’. ‘You’ve done him proud. The band is tip-top. You’d almost swear it was the Fab Four themselves.’
Emily smiled, pleased that Joyce and Edward were happy, though she herself was struggling to relax. She was aware that part of this might be due to withdrawal symptoms. She’d gone from feeling flat this morning, lacking in energy, to feeling jumpy and anxious. Not least because Jake was here. She hadn’t been sure he would come, having spent several nights in the surgery, bar one, when he’d slept in the spare room, at her suggestion. She’d said it was because her sleep patterns were worse than ever. She hadn’t told him the other reason: that if he received a call-out in the middle of the night, her suspicion would have gone into overdrive, inciting more arguments between them. She didn’t think she could bear that.
She looked across now to where he stood with one of his patients, who was no doubt trying to pick his brains about some illness or other. Jake was listening attentively, nodding politely, still as handsome as ever in a simple white polo shirt and jeans. Still the man she’d fallen in love with – on the outside, anyway. Her heart, which had been sinking steadily since discovering the email, settled like a cold stone in her chest as she acknowledged that she’d obviously never really known him as well as she’d thought she had. Was it poetic justice, she wondered; her just deserts for keeping secrets from him?
Joyce was still talking, she realised; she hoped the woman hadn’t noticed that her mind had drifted off. ‘They even look like them,’ she was saying, her gaze on the band.
Emily resisted pointing out that the mop-top wigs and collarless grey suits possibly helped. ‘Sally organised them,’ she said, leaning close to Joyce’s ear. She couldn’t take credit where it wasn’t due. They wouldn’t have had a band if not for Sally. Tears welling up out of nowhere, Emily bit them back. She missed her. She’d lost her two best friends overnight, it seemed.
‘Oh, well I must go and thank her too,’ Joyce said, glancing around. ‘Is she not here yet?’
Emily shook her head. ‘She’s been a bit poorly.’ She actually had no idea how Sally was. She hadn’t heard a word from her. And she could hardly ring her or ask Jake.
‘I’d better go and rein in my husband before he does himself an injury.’ Joyce rolled her eyes tolerantly. ‘You might want to rescue yours too, before he dies of boredom.’ She indicated Jake, who was doing his best to look interested as his patient pointed out various parts of his anatomy, obviously listing his aches and pains.
Nodding weakly, Emily watched Joyce head for the dance floor, a little twist of her hips in evidence as she did. Emily smiled. At least she’d managed something successfully, even if she had failed at everything else in her life. She was feeling sorry for herself but couldn’t help it. She also felt like a spare part at a wedding, standing on her own. She glanced around, wondering who she could talk to; someone who wouldn’t look at her with suspicion, trying to work out if she was vicious enough to send out the poison pen letters that had been circulating. Apart from Sally and the couples whose lives had been torn apart by the letters, most of the villagers were here. Some were searching for a sense of solidarity, which had been Emily’s aim once it was growing obvious the village community was becoming fractured. Some of them possibly wanted to catch up on the latest gossip. Fran was here, her eyes seeming to be attached to Tom on strings as they followed his every move. She was drinking a lot. Emily noted her going to the bar for the third time since she’d arrived. The woman’s expression was peeved as she all but glared at Tom, who was deep in conversation with the barmaid from the pub. Emily now knew why Fran might be disenchanted with him, and almost felt sorry for her. Unrequited love was painful. She couldn’t imagine a time when the love she still had for Jake despite everything wouldn’t cause her to hurt unbearably.
Could she risk a small glass of wine herself? she wondered, glancing after Fran and meeting Jake’s gaze as she did. He nodded and smiled uncertainly. Emily managed a small smile back, watching as he attempted to extricate himself from his patient, who was now rolling up his trouser leg, clearly about to show Jake his painful bits. Jake’s expression was one of bemusement as he glanced down at the pale limb the man offered him. Emily might have laughed but for the constriction in her throat.
Minutes later, as the band went off for their break, he walked towards her. ‘Hi,’ he said apprehensively.
‘Evening,’ Emily replied, saddened by the obvious awkwardness between them.
‘Okay?’ he asked her softly, his expression concerned as he searched her face. She looked into his blue eyes, the brown and green flecks making them a myriad of ocean colours: light and sparkling when he was happy, darker when he was troubled, as Emily could see he was now. Hidden depths, she thought distractedly.
Nodding, she glanced down. ‘Coping,’ she said. ‘You?’
‘Reasonable,’ he answered, kneading his neck, a sure sign he was stressed. She would have helped him free the knot in it once, just a short time ago. How had they suddenly become strangers, standing here in front of each other on opposite sides of some invisible fence?
‘Is Millie not with you?’ he asked.
Emily shook her head. ‘She’s at Anna’s. I don’t think this is her thing.’
‘As in actually at Anna’s?’ Jake’s eyes were definitely a shade darker. He was finally admitting she wasn’t wrong about that at least then; that they might have cause to be worried about their daughter.
‘I dropped her off there earlier. I’ve given her money for a taxi home,’ Emily assured him. This wasn’t the place to go into family business.
Jake nodded, clearly relieved.
‘Did Ben get off all right?’ she asked, knowing that their son had been reluctant to ask his father for the use of his car. His was off the road, but as she’d had to use her car today to pick up Edward and Joyce and bring them to the village hall, he had realised he didn’t have much choice. He’d had to visibly to steel himself to talk to Jake on the phone. Emily had been immensely relieved that he had, and that Jake had agreed he could take his car. Ben was going to a party. He had a date, he’d told her. Emily’s relief had been immense. She prayed it would lead to something; that Ben might have found himself a girl his own age and would forget all about his crush on Natasha.
‘He did.’ Jake’s mouth curved into a small smile. ‘I’m glad he asked. At least I was able to do one small thing other than mess up his life. Yours too.’
Emily widened her eyes in surprise. Was he finally going to admit that what was happening between them wasn’t all in her mind?
‘DS Regan called this morning,’ Jake went on, his expression wary. ‘They found the email. On the company server.’
She stared at him in disbelief for a second, then closed her eyes. ‘Not a product of my fevered imagination then?’
‘No.’ He drew in a breath. ‘I owe you an apology, Emily. I doubted you. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.’
Swallowing, she nodded slowly. It was something. It couldn’t take back all he’d said, but at least he wasn’t looking at her as if he didn’t know who she was. ‘Did they manage to trace the email address?’
