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He couldn’t be her father.
He stumbled backwards, almost losing his footing on the snow. ‘I need to go...dry off.’ Turning away, he headed back into the castle, head down.
He needed to escape. He needed to get away from those eyes. From that faith and expectation and responsibility.
From everything he’d always failed at before.
* * *
‘Ivy’s fine.’ Clara leant against the bedroom door frame, watching Jacob towelling off his hair. ‘Your mother is feeding her mince pies and hot chocolate. She’s been so spoilt today she’s never going to want to leave, you realise.’
But they were going to have to leave. They had to go back to London, to the real world and their real lives.
And, from the way Jacob had just run from them, Clara had a horrible feeling they’d be going alone.
Jacob looked up, guilt shining in his eyes. ‘I’m glad she’s not hurt.’
‘Thanks to you.’
He shook his head. ‘I should have got her out of the way sooner. Or stopped her from falling. Told her to keep both hands on the handlebars, watch where she was going. Something.’
‘She’s a child, Jacob,’ Clara said, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘Children have accidents all the time. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.’ Never mind that her own heart had stopped for a moment as she’d watched it happening. She couldn’t let Jacob blame himself for this.
‘Maybe not. But that just makes it worse.’
Clara frowned. ‘How?’
‘I couldn’t keep her safe, Clara. She was my responsibility for half a day and she got hurt. I wasn’t paying enough attention.’
‘You know how crazy that sounds, right? It was an accident, Jacob, that’s all.’ She reached out to touch his arm but he pulled it back, out of reach.
‘I can’t do this Clara.’
And there it was. The words she’d dared to believe might not be coming. But there they were, out in the world like a final sentence. His last words.
‘Because of one stupid accident?’
‘Because I’m not the right person for this. I never was. I thought... When I married you, I convinced myself that I could be a good husband just because I wanted it so much. Wanted you so much.’ He ran his fingers through his damp hair, a look of agony on his face. ‘And I almost made the same mistake again. I wanted to be with you, with Ivy, so much I thought I could be what you need. But I can’t. And it’s not fair to Ivy to take that risk. She deserves everything—including a wonderful father. And that’s just not me.’
‘You’re giving up,’ Clara said quietly. ‘Giving in. Because you’re scared.’
‘You’re right I’m scared. I’m terrified, Clara. And that’s a sign. I shouldn’t be doing this.’
Anger rose up inside her, the flames licking her insides. ‘You’re wrong. If you’re scared, it’s a sign it’s worth fighting for.’
Jacob laughed, and it came out harsh and bitter. ‘Like you fought for us? You walked out without a backward glance, Clara. And you know what? You were right. I admit it. So now it’s my turn to do the same.’
‘And you never came after me! You wouldn’t let me go, wouldn’t divorce me, but you wouldn’t come after me either. Why was that, Jacob? Because you were too scared to lose me—but too scared to love me too. Too scared to let me in, let me close.’
‘And you weren’t?’
‘Maybe I was. But you know what? I’ve grown up. I’ve opened up to you, told you everything. And I took a risk; I gave you a chance. A chance at the best thing you could ever have—being Ivy’s father. And you’re turning it down?’ She shook her head sadly. ‘You’re an idiot.’
‘Maybe I am,’ he said, his voice soft. ‘But Clara, I’d rather hurt you both now than risk breaking you later.’
She stared at him. He was really doing this. After everything they’d shared, said and done, he was pushing her away again.
‘One day you’re going to realise,’ she said. ‘Keeping people at arm’s length doesn’t keep them safe, Jacob. It only keeps them lonely.’
He didn’t answer.
Clara turned and left, closing the door behind her, alone once again. Alone, not because he didn’t want her, or even because he didn’t love her, but because he didn’t have the courage to be with her and Ivy.
She wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.
‘So that’s that, then?’ Merry asked, and when Clara looked up she saw her best friend standing a little way along the corridor.
‘You heard?’
‘Enough,’ Merry confirmed. ‘What do you want to do now? Sheila has invited us to stay here for the night, and Ivy looks close to falling asleep on her feet.’
‘I know.’ Clara chewed her lip. Part of her wanted to get out of there the first chance they got, but another larger part didn’t want to do anything to ruin Christmas Day for the others. She couldn’t stay but she couldn’t run either. Not just yet.
‘Let’s put Ivy to bed,’ she decided. ‘Then we can clear up down here.’
‘And then?’
‘Then, the moment everyone else goes to bed, we get Ivy in the hire car and drive back to London,’ Clara said.
Christmas was nearly over.
It was time for her new life to begin again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
‘I ONLY ASKED if you’d spoken to her,’ Sheila said, throwing up her hands defensively. ‘There’s no need to snap.’
‘I didn’t snap,’ Jacob said, knowing full well that he had. But really, it had been four days. No, he hadn’t spoken to Clara. And no, he had no intention of doing so.
His family hadn’t taken Clara’s departure in the middle of the night well, or the note that she’d left explaining that she and Merry had work back in London they needed to return to. Jacob, who was more used to being walked out on in the middle of the night, had simply crumpled the note up and thrown it on the fire.
He’d made his decision. He couldn’t blame her for abiding by it. Not this time.
‘Is Dad in his study?’ Jacob asked, looking past his mother down the hallway at Honeysuckle House. The Christmas decorations were still up and he wanted nothing more than to tear them down. Wasn’t it New Year yet? Couldn’t they move on?
He was ready to start his new life, without Clara. Without Ivy. He just needed the world to stop reminding him of them both.
Both. That was the biggest surprise. He’d expected to be haunted by Clara’s memory—he had been often enough over the past five years to have grown almost used to it. But Ivy... Jacob had spent less than a day with her, and yet everywhere he turned he seemed to find reminders of her. A girl on a bike, a small red coat, a too bright smile, a Christmas cracker like the ones she’d insisted on pulling with everyone. Even the Christmas lights made him think of her.
Clearly he was losing his mind.
‘Yes, he’s upstairs, I think,’ Sheila said, answering the question Jacob had almost forgotten he’d asked.
‘Right.’ He made for the stairs, his mind still occupied by thoughts of an empty castle, and a note he never wanted to see again.
He’d hoped that a business conversation with his father would take his mind off things, as well as giving him a chance to check on James’s health after the trek to Scotland and back. But, instead, he found his dad in a pensive, family orientated frame of mind. Which was the last thing Jacob wanted.
‘Come in! Sit down!’ James motioned towards the visitor’s chair. ‘Pull it up over here. I’m just looking through some old photo albums.’
Jacob’s stomach clenched as he saw the open page, filled with photos of Heather as a little girl, through from babyhood to a final one of her with bandages wrapped around her arms and scratches and cuts on her face. Why had they even taken th
at picture? Who wanted to remember that moment in time?
He reached across to try and turn the page but James stopped him with a gentle hand on his wrist. ‘She really did look uncannily like Ivy, don’t you think?’
‘Yes. And no, before you ask, I haven’t spoken to them.’
‘Why?’ James asked. ‘Really, Jacob. Why haven’t you gone after them?’
‘Because we decided it would be best for Ivy if I wasn’t part of her life.’ The truth was always easier than a lie. ‘I can’t commit to being a father right now.’
‘And whose decision was this, exactly? Yours or Clara’s?’
Jacob looked away. ‘Does it matter? She kept Ivy’s very existence from me for five years. I think we can assume that Clara agrees I’m not the right person to be a father.’
‘I think she was scared. Maybe even as scared as you are right now.’
