‘Maybe,’ I said carefully. Sometimes the tightrope between her delusion and reality was so perilous it was best to say as little as possible.
It was all too much for Mum, who got to her feet, declaring she was going to fetch us all a cup of decent coffee from the foyer. I was fairly sure the last thing anyone’s jangling nerves needed right then was more caffeine, but it was easier to agree.
The silence in the room after she left felt particularly fragile.
‘Idied, Lexi,’ Amelia said softly, still feeling her way around the enormity of what happened.
‘Only for a little while,’ I replied, which might possibly qualify as the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever said.
‘And do you know what the worst thing about it is?’
‘What?’
‘He wasn’t there, and he should have been.’
‘You mean Sam?’ I asked gently.
Amelia shook her head and her eyes were full of tears as they met mine.
‘No. I mean Dad. I’ve always thought that when my time was up, he’d be there. Waiting. That I’d get one last chance to see his smile. But I never saw him. And it kind of feels like losing him all over again.’
14
‘I’ll get this,’ I said, sliding my credit card across the counter before Nick’s could get there first.
For a moment it looked like he was going to object, but perhaps he saw the determination on my face for he gave in with a good-natured shrug. ‘Thank you. So long as you let me buy lunch,’ he said, slipping the card back into his wallet.
‘Sure,’ I replied with a smile that gave nothing away. There was no need for him to know it was unlikely we’d still be at the amusement park to worry about who’d be footing the bill for that particular meal. I had every intention of making this as quick and painless as possible.
Nick’s call, the night before, had been perfectly timed. I’d been in a strange mood since leaving the hospital. What Amelia had said about Dad had opened the door to a carousel of memories that I hadn’t allowed to roam free for a very long time. They kept spinning around my head as I prepared a microwave ready meal that I already knew I wouldn’t finish, and were well entrenched as I sat straight-faced through a TV show everyone was calling ‘hilarious’. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Dad as he’d been on that last morning, standing beside a car loaded with angling gear, waving up at me as I knelt on my bed watching through the window as he left for the fishing trip he would never come back from. Just before he ducked into the car, he’d pulled the keys from his pocket and waggled them at me, making me grin. Why hadn’t I run down the stairs to give him one last hug? One last kiss? They were questions I’d cried myself to sleep over for a great many years afterwards.
I’d been secretly relieved when Mum had passed on my invitation to join me for dinner. ‘Another time maybe, Lexi,’ she said apologetically. ‘All I really want is a big mug of cocoa and an early night.’ That sounded surprisingly appealing, which made me wonder if returning to the UK had somehow catapulted me straight from my thirties into old age. It was certainly hard to imagine a greater contrast between the life I lived in America and the one I was living now. Perhaps I wasn’t the hard-bitten New Yorker I thought I’d become after all. There was a connection to this place that I’d been denying for too long. But Somerset was patient. She was happy to quietly bide her time as she waited for me to remember just how much I’d loved growing up here and how I’d once sworn never to leave.
Muting the TV with its annoying canned laughter, I leant back on the settee and closed my eyes. I might even have drifted off for a moment or two before my phone’s ring tone jerked me awake. I scrabbled for my mobile, which was never far from my side these days. My fingers jabbed anxiously at the screen, the way anyone who’s ever had a loved one in hospital would instantly recognise.
But it wasn’t the hospital, my New York office, or even Jeff calling me this late in the evening. I stared down at Nick’s name on my phone screen for one more ring before answering the call.
‘Hello,’ I said, hoping the surprise in my voice would dissipate as it surfed the airwaves from my phone to his.
‘Hi. I’m sorry, I’ve just noticed how late it is. Did I wake you?’
‘No, I was just watching TV,’ I lied, my eyes flicking towards the muted screen.
‘I’ve just got back from delivering a breech foal, and I lost track of time.’
‘I’m sorry. Whoisthis?’ I teased.
‘It’s N—’ he began, before breaking off when he heard my giggle. ‘It’s Clark. Clark Kent,’ he completed solemnly.
I was smiling way more than the TV show had been able to achieve. ‘I think that phrase only really works with 007,’ I said, surprised at the easy banter we’d fallen into.
He laughed, but now, on listening, I could hear a thread of tiredness in his voice. I knew nothing about veterinary medicine or birthing a foal, but I imagined it had been an exhausting day for him too, just in a totally different way from mine.
‘The reason I’m calling,’ Nick said, fast-tracking us both back to the present, ‘is to remind you that I meant what I said the other day. And to let you know that I’m free for most of tomorrow, if that’s of any interest to you.’
For some unknown reason, I felt my heart skitter in my chest. Ididstill want his help, but I hadn’t expected him to take the reins and volunteer his services like this.He probably just wants to get it over and done with, I thought.Square the debt and then walk away from the crazy woman with her even crazier plan. Only… it didn’t feel quite like that.
‘What are your thoughts on amusement parks?’ I asked, momentarily stunning him into silence.
