‘Matty. I watched them go. Neither of them looked happy.’
Quinn tried not to feel the flicker of hope that swelled in him at the mention of trouble between Noah and Matty. It didn’t matter even if there was. Noah had vowed never to come back to Hay. That meant never coming back to Quinn.
Standing at the tree, which remained tall and proud, realisation dawned on Quinn.
‘There’s no tree for Hermione, is there?’
Jerry looked like Quinn caught him stealing one of Santa’s cookies. ‘I’m afraid not. Ivy just wanted to get you here to talk to me about Noah.’
‘How did she know he’d been here?’
‘She didn’t until I called.’
Quinn laughed. ‘Lucky for her. Where is she?’
‘Oh, inside cleaning,’ Jerry said. ‘Two birds and all that.’
ChapterThirty-Seven
‘Are you going to give me the silent treatment this whole time?’
Snow had replaced the rain, and now the appeal of winter, of Christmas, was back again. Ivy drove through the winding country lanes towards Hay, where everything was supposed to be perfect, yet it had all seemed to fall apart for Quinn.
Inside the car, the heaters blasting hot air with a loud whine, Quinn stared ahead, watching the flakes catch in the headlamps and splatter on the glass.
‘I don’t know what to say.’
It was true. He had learned a lot about Noah and about his decision to leave. Noah, confiding in his uncle, then leaving for London, seemed so raw. He could only wonder how Noah felt, and how Noah needed something new. He’d found it. Found himself.
Was that why Noah always avoided coming back here, because it would make him face a part of himself he thought was long gone?
‘What did Jerry say?’
‘That Noah went there before he left.’
‘And?’
‘And told him he wasn’t coming back.’
‘Balls.’ Ivy gripped the steering wheel as they descended into the valley.
‘Yes, balls.’
He breathed a sigh of relief when Ivy got back on the even road approaching Hay’s village. He watched the snow fall, wondering if it was snowing in London, imagining what mood Noah and Matty were in now. Were they thinking of him, or indeed Hay? Was this all just a faded memory to them?
His thoughts turned to Hermione. It would hurt her that she’d lost a chance to celebrate Christmas with her son again, maybe for the first time in years.
That inkling of sympathy dampened each time Quinn thought of someone Noah had hurt since coming back.
By thinking of that, he could distract himself from his own pain.
They arrived back in town, Quinn seeing a small group of people at his door. He checked the time. Only an hour and a half gone. Hopping out of the jeep, Quinn saw Blair, who handed Ivy a coffee.
‘Almond milk?’ Ivy asked.
‘Of course.’
Quinn wondered how they’d got close enough to know each other’s drink orders, then smiled at the customers at his door. He saw Jenny, gathered with the drag performers, each one of them out of drag.
