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Pippa paid her bill and asked for her suitcase to be brought down. While she was waiting for the porter Randal quietly asked, ‘You’re going straight to your cottage now?’
‘Yes.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And, please, don’t come there too. I have a lot to do and I would rather be alone.’
His face impassive, he turned away. ‘I’d better pay my own bill; I still have to pack. You’ll probably leave before I do. Drive safely.’
He hadn’t promised he wouldn’t come to the cottage. She looked crossly at his back as he began paying his bill. Then the porter appeared with her case. With him on her heels, Pippa walked out to the car park and a few minutes later was driving away.
This morning the marsh looked quite different; with the mist gone the horizon was bright and the fields shimmered under the sun. She drove slowly, enjoying the landscape and the sound of birds. A heron flew low, its grey profile memorable, legs trailing, fixedly gazing down at the silvery estuary in search of prey.
It was twenty past ten when she arrived home, and as she parked she saw with a jolt of shock that Tom’s car was parked a few feet away. Dismay filled her. He must be in the cottage; he still had a key. Questions buzzed inside her—why was he here? At this time of day he should be at work. What did he want? He had been surprisingly low-key yesterday in his reaction, but he had had time to think about it. Had he come back to make an angry scene?
Her teeth gritted. Whether she wanted to or not, she had to face Tom; she wasn’t running away, not any more. She had done too much of that with Randal. So she lifted her chin and walked towards the front door, which opened as she approached.
Tom confronted her in his dark city suit, like a grim avenging angel.
‘Where have you been?’ he asked with belligerence. ‘It looks as if you’ve been out all night. Your bed wasn’t slept in and everything is spotless.’ He paused, then asked tersely, ‘I suppose you’ve been with him?’
She walked past into the cottage, sighing. ‘No, I haven’t!’ It wasn’t exactly a lie, because Tom was really asking if she had slept with Randal, and she hadn’t had she? ‘I don’t want a row, Tom. No inquisition, please. Why are you here?’
‘I realised I had to see you to sort things out. We didn’t talk properly yesterday, did we? So I took a day off work.’ He followed her into the kitchen and watched her put on a kettle and start laying out cups and saucers, put teabags into the teapot.
‘I thought we’d said everything, Tom.’
‘We were both in shock,’ he said roughly. ‘Now we’ve calmed down and I’ve had time to think. Look, if you want to stay in your job, you can. There’s no need to feel you have to leave. People have broken off engagements before. I’m big enough to cope with a few jokes and snide remarks. You can take time to stay on, look for another job if you still want to move, but walking out right now you wouldn’t have a salary until you started work elsewhere, and I don’t want you to get into financial difficulties because of me.’
She looked at him incredulously, her green eyes swimming in tears. ‘Oh, Tom, that is so sweet!’
He shuffled his feet, very flushed. ‘Just common sense. A broken engagement isn’t the end of the world. We’ll get over it. So—do you want to stay on?’
She shook her head. ‘Thank you for offering, Tom, but, no, I would rather leave. You’re braver than I am. I don’t think I could face those jokes. I’m sure I shall get another job even if it isn’t as well paid.’
‘With him?’
Her eyes dropped to the floor. ‘No.’
‘You used to work for him, you said.’
‘Yes, I did.’
With an angry bite, Tom demanded, ‘But he didn’t offer you a job? What a bastard. When it’s his fault you need a job.’
Pippa groaned. ‘Oh, Tom. Yes, he did, actually. He said I could have a job with his firm, but I’m not taking up the offer.’
Tom thought about that. ‘But you and he are…getting together?’
‘No! I’ve no intention of… No!’
He ran a hand through his hair, his face confused. ‘I don’t understand. I thought that was the whole point? That you were in love with him, that that was why you weren’t going to marry me? If you aren’t going to him, then why is it off between us?’
The kettle boiled; she made the tea, her back to him. ‘It isn’t that simple, Tom. Try to understand. I know it’s hard, but try. Seeing him again made me realise I was not in love with you, and never would be. And I couldn’t go ahead with the marriage when I knew it wouldn’t work for us. Do you see?’
‘No, I don’t! You say you aren’t going back to him, which I suppose means you aren’t in love with him—so how did that make you realise you weren’t in love with me, either?’
‘Tom…’ She fumbled for the right words, helpless to make it clear without hurting his feelings. ‘Tom, I was in love with him four years ago. Desperately in love. I got badly hurt, but at least I knew I was doing the right thing in going away, in not breaking up his marriage. When you and I started seeing each other I thought I was over all that. I’d forgotten how I felt about Randal. I didn’t try to compare the way I felt about you with the way I had felt about him. I honestly believed we could be happy together.’
‘I still think we could be!’ Tom said eagerly, coming closer. ‘If you aren’t in love with him, we still have a chance, Pippa.’
She picked up the teapot and poured the tea, shaking her head. ‘I’m sorry, Tom, but, no, we don’t have a chance. I know now that it was wrong of me to think I could make you happy.’
