Page 62 of The Twilight Garden

Cat’s eyes widened. ‘Is that what he said…?’ She was clearly thinking. ‘Maybe I’m seeing things that aren’t there, but do you think he might have also meant something else? That he might not have been referring just to your mum?’

The memory of Leo’s kiss was still very fresh in her mind. The softness of his lips and the way his eyes took on a deeper colour as he looked at her, the calming strength of darkest blue. She paused to collect her thoughts.

‘I don’t think I ever realised how hard my dad’s death hit Leo. Or rather, there’s no “think” about it, I didn’t realise. Deliberately. I was too busy blaming him and feeling sorry for myself to care about the toll it was taking on him. But I should have, Cat. My dad meant the world to him and, in turn, he was like the son Dad never had. Both those things were equally important, vitally important, but I ignored them. And Leo has carried around the guilt of what happened the day Dad died for years… years. Even now he’s still haunted by it.’ She lowered the piece of pizza in her hand to her lap.

‘He had a breakdown not that long ago. Not solely because of Dad, but more because of a relationship which went south, and he hit a downward spiral he couldn’t get off. Yet it was memories of my dad which pulled him out – the belief that he had in him. That if Bernie thought he could do it, he had no right to give up. He decided then that the only way to honour Dad’s memory was to prove him right. Leo isn’t like he used to be, Cat, but then neither am I.’

‘But all the times he let you down…’

‘Were also times I let him down. I just could never see it that way.’

Cat was quiet for a moment. ‘So what are you saying?’ she asked eventually. ‘I’ve just told you I think you being here and away from him is a good thing, but it doesn’t sound as if you agree.’

Gemma let out a lengthy sigh. ‘Oh, Cat, I don’t know… I feel like I never really knew him before. That I spent most of our married life looking at it from the wrong point of view. But we were almost children then, it was such a long time ago, and everything has its time. I’m probably deluding myself that things could ever be different between us, and I’m worried that a part of me only wants it to be because I’ve had a tough year and am desperate for something good in my life for a change. And if that’s the case, then coming here doesn’t complicate my relationship with Leo at all, it simplifies it. It puts it back where it belongs.’

‘But?’ said Cat gently.

Gemma bit her lip, forcing out the thought she’d tried so hard not to admit. ‘I think I’ve fallen in love with him…’

24

She didn’t sleep. She couldn’t sleep. She had far too many thoughts whirring around her brain to switch off, and quite possibly a little too much wine. Yesterday afternoon had been a mixture of things – headiness, excitement, nostalgia and a relief that a simple, all-encompassing answer was just around the corner. But there was also a vague sense of disquiet, a feeling that something wasn’t right. That she’d spent her day being totally unproductive, stuffing her face and lounging about and accomplishing nothing. And then she’d realised how much she missed the farm, and the quiet dark, and the tiredness that came not from too much sugar and too many carbohydrates, but from a good day’s work and exercise, out in the fresh air. Proper tired was what her dad used to call it, and after that she couldn’t sleep at all.

Cat had already left for work by the time Gemma dragged herself out of bed. She had a breakfast meeting, a conference call and a presentation to draft notes for, but she still left a note for Gemma urging her to eat whatever she fancied, and to try the new coffee she’d bought recently (top cupboard on the left). She also wondered whether Gemma had anything suitable to wear for today’s interview. Not that it was an interview, but, you know. In any case, her wardrobe was free to be raided if necessary, only not to choose the pale blue blouse as the buttons had an alarming tendency to come undone.

Gemma hadn’t even considered this aspect of her meeting with Abby, and so the first half hour of her day was spent in something of a panic, trying on Cat’s clothes at speed and then deciding that what she already had with her was comfortable and that was more important. Eventually, she left the house, following virtually the same route to the office that she had taken every day for over twenty years.

Pushing open the door to the offices of Mayfield Dawson, Gemma could vividly remember the sense of excitement she had felt upon her arrival at Leonards just a few months before. Entering the glossy foyer in the sure and certain knowledge that great things were just about to start. That it had started something was undeniable – it just hadn’t been at all what she’d anticipated. By contrast, she was now entering somewhere she had worked for years, and although she knew it was her decision to move on from that partnership, her old boss had also subsequently rejected her and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Being there felt comfortably familiar and horribly peculiar all at the same time.

What struck her immediately was that the building wasn’t anything like as impressive as the atrium at Leonards, and yet it was they that had gone out of business. By all accounts, or Cat’s at least, Mayfield Dawson was thriving, so what did that tell you? Had Leonards only ever been style over substance? Perhaps, after all, she had had a lucky escape. She glanced around, spotting one or two faces she recognised, but the woman on reception was new, so she drew back her shoulders, took a deep breath and began walking towards her.

She’d only gone a matter of a few steps, however, when she heard her name being called, and she looked up to see Abby coming down the staircase to greet her. The blue pinstriped suit was the same, but she was smiling a smile Gemma didn’t think she’d ever seen before. It covered her whole face.

‘Gemma… it’s so good to see you. How are you? Goodness, you’ve had some tough times recently, but you look so well.’

They hugged. And that had never happened before either.

‘Yeah, I’m good, thanks,’ Gemma replied as they parted. ‘You know, good days and bad days, but⁠—’

‘You’re ready to come back to work though, that’s the main thing.’

‘Yes I… Yes, I am,’ she finished. Positive. Assertive.

‘Perfect, then let’s go and have a chat, shall we? I’ve booked a brunch at the Pit Stop and if you’ve never had one before, you are in for a treat.’

Sable was on the door again today, meeting and greeting, but if she recognised Gemma from the day before, she didn’t show it. But then for all Gemma knew, repeat visits weren’t that unusual. Sable certainly knew who Abby was.

‘It’s lovely to see you again,’ she said. ‘I’ve popped you in your usual spot, I trust that’s okay?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Pistachio and raspberry pastries, is it?’

‘Please. And some of those tiny little ones, with the honey.’

‘Of course. Imogen will be over to take the rest of your order shortly.’

The platter of pastries arrived at their table at almost the same time they did. Together with a pot of coffee and another which turned out to be hot chocolate.

‘Have a coffee by all means,’ said Abby. ‘But do try that, I’ve never tasted anything like it. Now, we’ll order in a moment, but I don’t want to beat about the bush here, Gemma. This is not so much an interview, more of a welcome back into the fold kind of meeting. I just wanted you to know so you can relax and enjoy the food. You don’t need to do a thing to impress me.’ She smiled. ‘That’s not what this is about.’

‘Okay…’ Gemma smiled nervously, perversely recognising that a small part of her would have preferred this to be something of a grilling. Was it wrong to think this was all a little too easy?