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Jacob looked up to meet his father’s gaze and found a depth of knowing and understanding there that shocked him to his core.
‘When your mother first told me she was pregnant with you, I was terrified,’ James admitted, flipping to the next page of the album as if his words were of no consequence. But Jacob clung to them anyway. ‘I had no idea how to be a father—I was a scientist! An academic, at that point. I was the only child of an only child, so there had never been any babies around when I was growing up. I hadn’t the first idea what you should do with one.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘I learnt,’ James said bluntly. ‘Because I knew that being a father was the one thing in life I couldn’t afford to fail at. So I learnt everything I could.’
‘It worked,’ Jacob said with a bitter laugh. ‘You were an excellent father. Far better than I could ever hope to be.’
‘No, I wasn’t.’
Jacob looked up at his father in shock. ‘You’re wrong. I...I couldn’t keep my sister safe, or my wife happy or by my side, or even stop Ivy from falling off her bike! But you, you kept our whole family together, all these years.’
James shook his head. ‘It’s not enough. I think maybe our fear for Heather, after the accident... We focused so hard on her, on keeping her safe, maybe we ignored your needs. I should have told you...so many things. That I’m proud of you. That no one ever blamed you for what happened. It was a freak accident. You didn’t mean to hurt her. I should have told you that nothing you ever did could make me less proud of you.’
‘Dad... You don’t have to...’ Jacob felt as if his heart was growing in his chest as his father spoke. As if years of armour built of fear and shame were falling away from his shoulders, leaving him lighter than he could remember feeling since he was a child.
‘Yes. I do.’ James reached out and took Jacob’s hand. ‘I’m dying. We both know that. And people say you have all sorts of revelations at the end of your life. But that’s not what this is. These are all the things I should have told you years ago—that I should have been telling you every day and didn’t.’
‘And you’ve said them. Thank you.’
‘But that’s not all. Son, you have to know...it’s okay to fail. It’s okay to screw up and make mistakes. As long as you try again. When I was inventing, for every thing I created that worked, I made a hundred—a thousand!—that didn’t. But I still didn’t give up, no matter how many times I failed. That’s the key to the things that matter in life. You just have to keep trying.’
‘I tried, Dad, with Clara. We both did. Time and again. It just didn’t work.’ Whatever he did, she was always going to leave him.
‘What about with Ivy? Isn’t it worth trying again for her?’
‘Not if I’m just going to mess it up again.’ He’d seen the look on Clara’s face when she’d spoken about not wanting Ivy to feel unwanted. He knew where that came from—knew how scared she was of Ivy living through what she’d had to. And maybe she was right not to take that risk.
‘As long as you keep trying, you can’t get it wrong,’ James promised him. ‘Look at me. I’ve been messing up your upbringing for over thirty years, and I’m still trying to make it right. So let me try. And help me succeed.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I want you to be happy,’ James said simply. ‘I want you to think about the last time you were truly happy, and do whatever it takes to get you there again. And then I want you to try your best to stay there. Can you do that?’
The last time he had been happy. In bed with Clara at the castle. Except...no. There was one more moment after that, one more second when he’d felt pure happiness.
Watching Ivy’s face when she’d found her bike outside the castle.
Jacob swallowed, hard.
‘I think I can,’ he said. ‘And I’m definitely going to try.’
James clapped him on the shoulder. ‘That’s my boy.’
* * *
Clara was officially pampering herself. Or at least that was what Merry had instructed her to do when she’d shown up to whisk Ivy off to see a pantomime earlier that afternoon.
‘You’ve been working flat out ever since we got back from Scotland. You need a day to relax and get yourself ready for the Charity Gala tonight. To get ready for the new year to start and for you to begin your awesome new life,’ Merry had said. ‘And you can’t do that while you’re busy putting on a brave face for Ivy or working too much so you can pretend you haven’t just had your heart broken. So we’re going out. Take a bath or something.’
‘But what about the gala? There’s last-minute stuff to sort—’
‘All delegated. That’s why we have staff.’
‘What about the last table? The cancellation?’ One last-minute cancellation had left them with an empty table—or, at ten grand a plate, one hundred thousand pounds less money that had been raised. That wasn’t acceptable—and it definitely wasn’t Perfect London.
‘Sorted. I sold it this morning.’
‘Seriously?’
‘I am a miracle worker. I have planned and fixed everything. Now, go run that bath.’
Merry probably hadn’t planned on the knock on the door, however.
Clara sighed into the bubbles around her. Then, as whoever was waiting knocked again, she hauled herself out of the bath and wrapped a towel around her.
‘Mrs Clara Foster?’ the delivery man at the door asked.
Clara blinked. ‘I suppose so.’ Even if no one had called her that in five years. ‘For now, anyway.’
‘These are for you.’ He motioned to the large stack of boxes in his arms. ‘Shall I bring them in?’
Clara nodded. He set them on the table, then discreetly disappeared again, leaving Clara to open them in peace.
Fixing her towel more tightly around her, she opened the largest box, lifting out the most beautiful ballgown Clara thought she had ever seen. It was dark red velvet, sprinkled with sparkles on the bodice and overlaid with lace on the skirt. She held it against her and imagined dancing in it at the gala that night. She’d never worn anything half as beautiful. Even her wedding dress had been grabbed off the rack at the shop next to the Vegas chapel.
The next box held matching shoes, then a bag and smaller boxes with discreet silver and garnet jewellery—earrings, a necklace—and a silver bangle studded with garnets, and with a message engraved on the inside: She believed she could, so she did...
Someone knew exactly what she liked. Clara pulled out the card last, and held her breath as she read it.
I chose the presents myself this time.
I’ll see you tonight.
Both of you.
Love, J x
She blinked. Both of you?
A second knock rattled the door and she dashed across to answer it, half expecting Jacob to be there himself. But instead it was another delivery man, carrying another stack of b
oxes, all a little smaller than the first.
‘I’m looking for a Miss Ivy Foster?’ the delivery man said.
Clara bit back a smile. ‘She’s not here right now, but I can take those for you.’
This time, she reached for the card first.
Ivy,
I can’t wait to carry on our conversations at the ball tonight. I hope your mum might still let me tell you something very important.
Love, Jacob x
Clara grabbed her phone, hoping to catch Merry before the pantomime started. ‘Who exactly did you sell the last table to?’ she asked when her friend answered.
‘Ah,’ Merry said. ‘It’s a funny story...’
Clara fell into her chair and laughed, her heart lifting for the first time since she’d left Scotland.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE BALLROOM AT THE Harrisons’ mansion was bedecked with sparkling white fairy lights. Perfectly laid tables were dressed with crisp white linen and glistening crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Jacob tugged at the collar of his tuxedo and hoped, not for the first time in the last few days, that this wasn’t all a huge, huge mistake.
He’d already let Clara down. He’d played right into her worst fears and walked away just when she thought she could rely on him to be there for her and Ivy. It was asking a lot to want to come back from that, and all he really had to work with was a couple of fancy ballgowns, a ridiculously expensive dinner and—he glanced behind him at the three people sitting very expectantly at a table set for ten—his family.
‘This could be a huge mistake,’ he told them, taking his seat. His mother pushed a bread roll towards him and Heather motioned a waiter over to bring him a glass of wine. ‘I mean, she’s running this event. She could actually have us thrown out.’
‘She won’t,’ his father said, totally calm. ‘Patience.’
‘Where is she?’ Jacob craned his neck to try and spot her in the crowd, but there were so many people filling the ballroom it was almost impossible to pick out any one person.
