Page 53 of The Twilight Garden

‘I know you did.’ She turned his face towards her. ‘And I’m so sorry…’ And then she gently touched her lips to his.

She could see every line on his face. The ones which gathered in tiny creases at the corners of his eyes, the ones which ran from his nose to his chin, born out of a lifetime of smiling. She could see all the colours of his eyes, the stormy dark blue of them when they were filled with emotion, the bright glint of blue like sunshine after the rain, the calming deep sea of them when he looked at her. She could see every hair on his arms, golden in the glow of the sun, arms which had held her close, arms which had caught her when she’d fallen, arms which had made her favourite soup when she was ill – every muscle, every sinew, she saw them all.

And his lips, thin when he was angered, when some injustice had occurred, but generous when he smiled, warm when he kissed her and cold when he drank a glass of iced water. Twitching when he teased her, or wide when he laughed. She could see all this now. So why had she never seen it before?

Her father, the man she trusted above all others, whose judgement was sound and who had never let her down, he had believed in Leo. So why couldn’t she?

And the truth of it was because she hadn’t wanted to.

Your eyes can be open but you can choose not to see. Your heart can be broken but you can choose not to let it mend.

20

‘Everything okay?’

Gemma looked up from the letter she’d been reading to find Willow watching her from the other side of the kitchen.

‘Only you’ve been studying that for several minutes,’ she added. ‘It’s not bad news, I hope?’

Gemma folded the single sheet of paper and returned it to the envelope. It wasn’t bad news as such, but it had taken her by surprise, and her heart was now thudding in response. She smiled. ‘No, it’s from the estate agents who are managing the rental on my house for me. An inspection report, that’s all.’ She tucked the letter into her pocket and slid the trays of eggs off the table. ‘Is this it?’ she asked. ‘Only I feel as if I’ve forgotten something.’

Willow grinned and pointed to the top of the cooker where two loaves of bread sat waiting in a bag. ‘For Vicky?’

Gemma rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me this morning,’ she said, collecting the bread. ‘My brain feels like it’s been put through a spin cycle.’ She did know, though. She knew exactly what it was, but for goodness’ sake, it was just a kiss. One kiss, that’s all. With a man she’d known over half her life and with whom kissing wasn’t exactly a novelty. None of which explained why Gemma felt the way she did. Or why she’d hardly slept at all.

‘And you’ve got the library books?’ asked Willow, with just a hint of what looked suspiciously like a knowing smile. Gemma could feel the colour beginning to rise in her cheeks.

‘Already in the car,’ she replied. ‘Right… got my keys, got the bread, got the eggs… I’ll see you in a bit. Sure there’s nothing else you need from town?’

Willow shook her head. ‘I can’t think of anything, but I’ll text you if I do.’ She swallowed down the last of her coffee. ‘See you later.’

Gemma practically ran out of the door, keen to evade Willow’s questioning looks. Or worse, actual questions, because she had no idea how she would answer them. She was probably imagining it all anyway; there was no reason why Willow would have worked things out.

She stopped. Worked out what, exactly? There was nothing to work out. Nothing happened – just a quick kiss between good friends. And Willow hadn’t even seen that. Willow had been in the kitchen when she and Leo came back in the night before, but even though she felt as if what had happened between them would be as obvious as if she’d had a sign hanging around her neck, she knew it wouldn’t have been. It was just her idiot self-conscious brain that made her think such things.

The letter hadn’t been about an inspection report, however. That was a little white lie she’d told to buy her more thinking time because, instead, the agency were informing her that her tenants had now been living at her house for four months. If Gemma wished to terminate the arrangement at the end of the initial six-month let, then now was the time to give notice. Three months ago, she’d have been ticking off the days until this letter arrived, waiting for the earliest moment she could legally give her tenants notice, but now it was another reminder of how unsettled she was.

She didn’t have to go home. No one was making her, but her plan had only ever been to stay at the farm for six months – an escape route to tide her over. Now, a milestone had been reached, and whenever that happened it generally meant that a direction had to be taken. So should she stay on her current path? Or divert and return home? It wasn’t as simple as happiness in one direction and sadness in the other; there were so many aspects to consider. Security for one. Stability… romance?

The other consideration which loomed large in her head was that the four months she’d been at the farm had flashed by, and if it had been that way for her, she was sure her tenants would feel the same. It was no time at all and, despite the need for a decision, Gemma knew that if someone told her now she’d have to leave Thistledown, she would feel saddened, and disappointed. Her tenants had only just begun to make her house their home. She’d be uprooting them all over again and she wasn’t sure she could do that to them.

It was still early when she reached the tearoom and, although Vicky wasn’t even open yet, she’d just plated up a batch of sticky cinnamon buns, and her offer of one of those with a coffee was too tempting. Perhaps now would be a good time to try to sort out some of the noise in her head. She handed over the bread and eggs and took a seat. Half an hour wouldn’t hurt, surely? Besides, a proper email to Cat was long overdue.

Morning! she typed.

Sorry, it’s been so long since I messaged. I know, I’m a terrible friend. But just where are the days going, have you hidden them somewhere? She paused.

So much had happened over recent days, and yet she couldn’t think of what to write. Everything sounded trite. Cat wasn’t really an outdoorsy kind of person. She wouldn’t be particularly interested in what the garden looked like, or the fact that she had watched the hares in the field for well over an hour yesterday evening. She might be interested in Leo, but Gemma didn’t want to tell her that when they kissed it had felt like coming home. Cat would want chatty, gossipy stuff, and Gemma didn’t want to poke fun at what had happened. But then again, these things were her life now, so…

I’m having a little pit stop for half an hour in my favourite tearoom. Vicky has just made some amazing-looking buns, so I thought, what better time to fill you in on everything that’s been happening?

Firstly, it’s finally stopped raining – hooray! – so the levels of mud are much reduced! I must be returning to my country ways though, because these days I scarcely notice, and the view now the trees have some leaves on them is stunning. And those tiny leverets I told you about? Well, I sat and watched them dancing last night for about an hour as the sun went down, and I thoroughly recommend it as a way to relax – never mind oil-scented baths and episodes of Friends!

The farm is also now chock-full of crops. Willow and I have planted hundreds of seeds and transplanted hundreds more seedlings out into the beds and they are growing so fast. I know I used to garden a lot before, but I never really got the growing vegetables thing. I certainly do now though! There is something immensely satisfying about roasting a tray of vegetables that you’ve harvested from your own patch of land with herbs that you’ve picked from the pots on the windowsill. Can you smell the rosemary? I’m definitely a convert.

Flowers and shrubs are still very much my thing though. Oh, you should see the garden we discovered – it’s beautiful! Or it will be when it’s finished… At the moment we’re still clearing sections of it, reclaiming it from the wild, but there’s huge progress already. I’ll keep you posted.

She stopped, biting her lip at the thought of what to say next.