“You should have seen her face when I said I wouldn’t marry her,” he’d told Bo, and Bo had been shocked to see the normally staid Geoffrey’s eyes fill with tears. “She was devastated. I could tell I’d crushed her, and for what? Because my family wouldn’t approve of her? Because she was just some London shop girl? Because she wouldn’t help my career?” Geoffrey had shaken his head in disgust at himself. “I loved her. That should have been enough. If I’d been stronger, we’d still be together now. If I’d been stronger, we’d have each other. If I’d been stronger. If only I’d been stronger.”
No. It wasn’t Bo’s story to tell.
But then, Ida already knew it all, didn’t she?
“He told me all about how he met this girl, Madelief. He told me how much he loved her; how much he wanted to be with her—”
“Nonsense,” Ida cut in, her voice sharp. “If he’d really wanted to be with her, he would’ve been. Oh, I’m sure when he told you this story he was a regretful old man, but when he wasyounger . . . well, he was a selfish bastard, and there’s no better name for him.”
Bo pressed her lips together. Maybe Ida spoke the truth. All Bo knew though was the look that had been in Geoffrey’s eye when he spoke about the woman he’d loved the most and hurt the worst.
“He regretted losing her almost instantly, you know,” she told Ida. “Madelief wasn’t gone a month when he tried to find her. He broke things off with his fiancée, told his parents there was another woman. He even bought a ring. But when he went back to Madelief’s flat, she was gone. She’d moved out.”
“She went back to Holland,” Ida confirmed. “Back to her family.”
“Geoffrey spent years searching for her.”
“He wouldn’t have found her.”
“No. He never did.”
“Of course not,” Ida’s face changed. “And good thing too. He’d have only broken her heart a second time.”
“I don’t know. He searched for her for such a long time,” Bo reflected. “That’s why he came in here so often. I think he was hoping he’d come in one day and find her here.”
“She never came back,” Ida confirmed, before giving Bo an odd look. “It was no wonder he struck up a friendship with you though. You’re so similar to Madelief.”
Bo made no reply to that.Similar to Madelief.The comparison sat uncomfortably with her. She’d always thought Geoffrey’s friendship was genuine, a rare and uncomplicated kindness in a world that often felt too sharp and cruel. But now, she couldn’t shake the uneasy thought that maybe what he’d seen in her wasn’therat all. Maybe it had been nostalgia. Maybe it had been her face, that beautiful face of which her mother was so proud, all over again.
The idea stung. She wanted to believe Geoffrey had cared for her mind, conversation and company. But if Ida was right, Geoffrey had only ever been looking at her and seeing someone else. Maybe their friendship hadn’t been friendship at all, but simply the echo of a man looking for the ghost of a woman from his past. And if that was true, what did that mean for her and Max? Were they any different from Geoffrey and Madelief? The thought made her chest tighten, a mix of fear and fascination. Maybe they were doomed to repeat the past, just a second version of a story that ended before it ever truly began.
She sighed. “You know he bought the house on Orchard Drive because she loved it?”
Ida said nothing.
“He told me that he and Madelief used to walk on the heath sometimes, and they would pass 12 Orchard Drive, and she would say it was the prettiest house she’d ever seen. He bought it in the hope that one day she would live in it with him as a family. He bought it for her, and then he could never leave it, in case she ever came back. He was lonely for a long time. He got married to ease that boredom, but the marriage didn’t work out. How could it? He was still in love with Madelief.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel sorry for him, it isn’t working,” Ida said, but her words were kind. “Like I said earlier, you knew the regret of an old man. I saw what he did to regret.”
“Max is his son, you know?”
At that, Ida leaned forward. “I thought he was the nephew?”
“No. His son.” Bo chewed on her lip. “His secret son.”
Ida frowned. “Is he now? How did that come about?”
Bo blushed. “Geoffrey had an affair while he was married. Max was the result.”
Ida rolled her eyes. “Leopards and their spots.”
Bo ignored that remark. She knew Geoffrey hadn’t been perfect. She knew he’d made mistakes. Still, she’d loved the man she’d known. She still missed and grieved him, despite his flaws.
“So, he didn’t marry Max’s mother either?”
“I don’t know the story, I don’t think anyone really could aside from Geoffrey and Max’s mother, who are both dead, but—”
“But?”
