Page 71 of You Were Always the One

‘Monty?’ Coming over, she put her arms around me. ‘Come and sit down. I want to talk to you.’

She led me over to the sofa, looking at me with those beautiful, luminous eyes. ‘I love you,’ she said softly.

‘I love you, too.’ I looked at her, puzzled. ‘Is everything OK?’

She looked slightly awkward. ‘When we came back to England, I really thought it was the right thing – for both of us.’

‘It is.’ I took her hands. ‘We have this place, your training is going so well… I’m really proud of you.’

‘Thanks.’ She was silent. ‘But what about you?’ She paused. ‘I’ve been thinking so much about this. Being back here has been working for me, I know that. But…’ She faltered. ‘I don’t think it’s working for you.’

I started to panic. ‘Of course it is. We’re managing, aren’t we? It takes time to get a book published. And if you’re worried about money, I’ll look for another job.’ I stroked her hair off her face. But I had an uneasy feeling, deep inside me.

‘It isn’t about the money.’ A tear rolled down her cheek. ‘This is about you.’

There it was. One of those defining moments. Change was needed, I could see that. But at the same time, I was never going to be a stockbroker or banker, or a multi-millionaire footballer. And nor are most people. That was the trouble. I was me. Since coming back, and until writing earned me any money, I was trying to be a round peg in a square hole – all for her. And Skye could see that.

25

HOLLY

It’s one of the hardest things I’ve done – walking away from Riggs like that, not knowing if we’ll ever see each other again. It leaves me feeling dead inside. But then I remind myself, this is my life. It is what it is because of the choices I’ve made. Riggs is no longer a part of that; what I need to do is focus on my family.

Back at home, Max is in the kitchen doing homework at his laptop, while Grace is watching TV. Miles is in his study. There are leaflets about cancer and health insurance on the table, a walking stick leaning against the wall, and I can’t help thinking how quickly Miles’s illness has become assimilated into our lives.

Since Dora’s death, knowing what the situation with Miles is, my work has been further reduced by the hospice. It’s probably for the best that I have just one patient at the moment. And that’s Charley – who is never anything but inspirational.

‘The last scans were good,’ she tells me the next time I see her. ‘If anything, the tumours are reducing.’ She frowns at me. ‘Are you OK?’ Her face clears; she knows about Miles. ‘Of course you’re not. How is your husband doing?’

‘Coming to terms with the reality of his illness,’ I say. But I’m not here to talk about him. ‘You look really well.’

‘I feel well,’ she says. She’s put on a little weight and her face has more colour. ‘I’m driving again, too, which takes the pressure off Jake.’

When I saw him, Jake didn’t give the impression of a man under pressure. Quite the opposite, in fact. ‘I think he likes helping you,’ I say.

‘That was fine when I needed it. But I really hope I’m almost past that,’ she says.

We have a cup of tea in her kitchen. There’s a freshly baked cake on the side, a pot of winter bulbs on the windowsill; a cat asleep in the middle of her kitchen table. ‘I’m not sure you need me any more,’ I say. ‘You’re doing so well.’

‘Amen to that,’ she says. ‘But I still want you in my life, Holly. As a friend. You should bring your kids over. I know!’ Her face lights up. ‘Come on Saturday – while the weather’s good. I’d have suggested a swim, but Jake’s been shutting the pool down for the winter.’

‘I didn’t know you had a pool.’

‘Insane, really,’ she says dismissively. ‘We only use it a few months of the year. But it was here when I moved in. Jake’s turning it into a natural pool – you know, plants instead of chemicals,’ she says vaguely. ‘But as it was there, it seemed a shame not to take advantage of it.’

Old habits die hard, and when I leave Charley’s, I drive past Dora’s house. Then, seeing Natalie’s car parked outside, I stop. When I knock at the door, a minute passes before she answers.

‘Holly.’ It’s clear she’s surprised to see me. ‘How nice of you to come by.’

‘I saw your car,’ I say. ‘I thought I’d pop by and see how you were doing,’ I add gently.

‘OK,’ she says. ‘It’s just a sad time.’ Her voice wavers.

I’m silent for a moment. ‘It meant the world to your mum that you were here,’ I say.

‘Thank you,’ she says. ‘And thank you for being here for her. Mum was fond of you.’

‘How’s little Fritz?’ I ask, thinking of the way he rarely left Dora’s side.