With every mile, it seemed to Flora that the real world was beckoning, dragging her back to normality, as the romanticism of the island dimmed with each grey cloud in the sky, reflecting her mood. Her phone was still dead; she’d forgotten to charge it before she had left the cottage in such a hurry and it was stuffed somewhere in her handbag.
She was supposed to be going home to Middlebrook and wanted nothing more than the long journey to be over. But soon after ten p.m., just as it was turning dark, she changed her mind and drove to Thorndale instead. When she finally pulled up outside the vicarage, she was exhausted and suffering from a terrible headache. She had hardly stopped, and the busyness of the roads as people hurtled from place to place on the mainland, after the peace of the island, had left her drained. She was extremely glad that the journey was finally over. She wanted to see Charlie, not the silent shadows in her cottage, to feel the peace and sense of home she always found with her brother and his little family.
She dragged her case up the steps to the front door and knocked, hoping they would not mind her late arrival, and give her a bed for the night. Their baby daughter, Esther, would hopefully be sleeping peacefully, and Flora was just about to knock again when the door was opened and her brother appeared, a welcome smile already lighting up his face as he spotted Flora.
‘Hey, sis, what are you doing here?’ he said, keeping his voice low. He immediately reached for her case and lifted it easily into the hall. ‘We were expecting you first thing on Saturday. Have we got it wrong?’
‘I’ll go then, shall I?’ Flora retorted as she followed him inside. Her emotions were very close to the surface and she resorted to irritation in an attempt to disguise her sadness.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Charlie told her, as he dumped her stuff on the floor. He was a couple of inches taller than Flora but broader, the professional rugby player’s physique still retained. His dark, curly hair was slightly longer than the last time she had seen him, and it made him look more boyish. A door opened along the hall and Flora saw Sam, her sister-in-law, emerge. Her small round face broke into a grin when she realised who it was.
‘Flora!’ she exclaimed quietly, dashing down the hallway to envelop Flora in a tight hug and trying not to spill the glass she was holding at the same time. ‘Urgh, sorry, I think I’ve just sloshed some wine down your back! Never mind, it was white – it’ll wash out! How lovely you came early; Esther will be ecstatic to see you.’
Despite her headache, Flora giggled as she pulled back and then Charlie dragged her into his embrace, too, tipping his head back to peer at her critically. ‘You look tired.’
‘So would you if you’d just taken a ferry and driven for five hours to get here.’ Flora shoved him away. She saw the glance that passed between Charlie and Sam, and took a deep breath. ‘I’m fine, it’s just the drive. Any chance of a cup of tea and a bed for the night?’
‘You go on up and I’ll bring you one,’ Sam said gently. ‘Charlie will carry your case to the room. We can catch up properly tomorrow.’
Flora thanked her gratefully and trudged upstairs after Charlie. She managed to brush her teeth and change into pyjamas, before she slid into the cool bed in the big, high-ceilinged room. She could barely believe it was only twenty-four hours since she had been sharing supper on the beach with Mac, and memories of seclusion, sunshine and swimming tumbled into her mind. She snuggled under the covers and was asleep long before Sam crept in with a cup of tea.
Several hours later, Flora stumbled groggily out of bed, pulled the curtains back and blinked in the bright sunlight that met her. Windows on the south and east walls gave the room a lovely view of the garden and the village just beyond the trees. After a quick shower, she unpacked and discovered her phone still in her bag. She plugged it in to charge and went downstairs, making her way to the warmth and welcome of the kitchen. Sam was up already, busy unloading the dishwasher while also setting the huge oak table. She noticed Flora at the same moment as the baby sitting in her highchair squealed in delight.
Flora grinned and heard Sam’s chuckle as she hurried over to Esther. She knew she was biased, but Esther really was the most beautiful baby. She had inherited her mother’s large brown eyes and pink cheeks, and her growing hair resembled her father’s dark curls. Esther offered Flora a heart-melting smile, and grasped a clump of her aunt’s hair as she bent down for a kiss.
‘Ow!’ Flora said laughingly, as she carefully disentangled herself from her niece’s chubby fingers. ‘Come and give your Auntie Flora a cuddle, you gorgeous girl. She looks more like Charlie every time I see her, Sam.’
Sam was watching Flora lifting Esther from the highchair. ‘I know. Thank goodness he’s so handsome, otherwise it might’ve been a disaster! Watch she doesn’t transfer soggy Weetabix onto your top.’
‘I don’t need to ask how you are,’ Flora said, reaching for a wipe to clean Esther’s sticky fingers. ‘You look amazing, Sam.’
Motherhood clearly suited her sister-in-law. Flora had first met her more than ten years ago and she had always been cheerful and merry, able to see the best in everything and just about everyone. Flora noticed two new rings high in one ear lobe to compliment her other piercings, and pink and green highlights in her short blonde hair. Sam suited her role as Charlie’s wife perfectly, and together they made a whole that was enriching to be around.
‘Thank you. You look great, too, Flora. Your summer glow is coming along well. I can’t wait to hear all about your time on the island – the garden sounds amazing. Did you fall in love?’
Startled, Flora’s eyes shot up from Esther wriggling on her knee to find Sam’s gaze casually waiting as she pushed a cup of coffee across the table to her.
‘What do you mean?’
Sam looked puzzled, her hand hovering somewhere above the table. ‘The garden? I bet you fell in love with it, didn’t you?’
‘Oh, well, maybe a little. But you know how it is, you always have to go home.’ Flora fell silent, her mind suddenly full of Mac and the memories linked to him. She busied herself with Esther, lifting her up and pulling her against one shoulder to chatter nonsense, hiding her eyes from Sam.
‘Do you?’
Before Flora could reply, the door opened and Charlie stepped into the kitchen. Flora knew at once from his expression that something was wrong, and she felt nerves spike in her stomach. Was it her mum? Or something else? She watched as he absently reached out to take Esther from her, his expression tense.
‘What’s wrong?’ It was Sam who had spoken, and she pulled out a chair, sitting opposite him. ‘I heard your phone before and I thought it was early. Is it family?’
Charlie shook his head slowly, expelling a long breath, and then his look settled on Flora.
‘Just say it,’ she blurted out. ‘You’re really worrying me.’
‘Sophie called me,’ Charlie told her quietly. Flora’s mouth opened immediately to ask what was wrong but he held up a hand. ‘She’s fine; they all are, Flora, don’t worry. She’s been trying to get hold of you since yesterday afternoon but apparently your phone is switched off and she tried me because she knew you were coming here at some point. She really wanted to be the one to speak with you.’
‘Why?’ Dread had reduced Flora’s voice to a whisper and Charlie sighed again.
‘Mac, is it? The guy you were advising on the island? Apparently, he has a rather high-profile girlfriend, and it seems she’s having a thing with a Hollywood actor that’s now splashed all over the internet. Sophie said there’s going to be pictures in the press, too, any day now. The girlfriend’s apparently done a runner from the show she’s filming and disappeared, presumably to wait for the fuss to die down.’
Flora knew exactly where she was, understanding now why Chloe had appeared on Alana so suddenly. Was that what Mac had meant when he’d said that things with Chloe were not as they seemed? Was it over? A flicker of hope flared in her mind before she registered that Charlie still looked serious and his hand reached out to hers, squeezing it tightly.
‘That’s not quite everything,’ he told her gently, and her stomach lurched at the sympathy she read in his face. ‘It seems you’re involved, too, Flora.’
‘Me? But how?’ Her voice had risen to a shocked screech and Charlie clung to her fingers, while Sam bustled over to take Esther from him. ‘I’ve only clapped eyes on Chloe for about two minutes and I know next to nothing about her! How the hell am I involved?’
‘There’s a couple of pictures of you and Mac online, too, from Mel’s wedding. The gossip sites are suggesting he won’t be too cut-up about Chloe, because you’re comforting him. Somebody must have made the connection and leaked them. I’m so sorry. Sophie’s been trying to track you down to tell you, before you found it somewhere.’
Flora’s eyes widened in horror as a wave of nausea rushed into her mouth. She stood up quickly, staring from Charlie to Sam, as though they might suddenly laugh and tell her it was all a joke.
‘If they go looking for me, then they’ll find Dad,’ she whispered brokenly, staring at Charlie again. ‘Then Mum and Liam, and they’ll have to go through the gossip and speculation all over again. It’ll be even worse this time, if it gets in the media because of me.’
Her chair fell back as she pushed it away and hurried from the room. She raced upstairs, just making it to the bathroom in time before she retched, and hot flashes of shame shot through her body, feeling responsible for dragging her family into the public glare, however unwittingly she had done so. She crept back to her room and switched on her phone, now fully charged. There were five missed calls from Sophie and seven from Mac, as well as more than a dozen voicemails. She began to play the ones from Sophie. Each had urged her to call as soon as she could but not to worry.
She leant back on her bed as she looked at the calls from Mac. The first had been at ten thirty yesterday morning, when she had still been at the island school with Maggie. Then the calls had followed at twelve thirty, two fifteen, three p.m., three forty-five, five twenty and finally seven fifty, before he had given up. Her finger hovered over the list of voice messages and she selected his first.
‘Flora, it’s Mac. Call me as soon as you get this, okay? I’m guessing you’re still at the school, and I know the signal’s not great. I need to see you.’
She deleted it. She pressed play on the second one, the third, and so on, until she had heard, and deleted, all but the last one.
‘So, I know you’ve left, and I can’t say I blame you. I’m so sorry about last night and Chloe turning up. Look, Flora, if you haven’t already heard, there’s some stuff about Chloe and her co-star on social media, and it includes pictures of us, too. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that you’ve been brought into this. I wish I could just make it all go away. I didn’t want to have to discuss it over the phone and I’m hoping you’ve gone home, as you’re not here. I’ll try you again tomorrow. Call me, please. There’s so much I have to tell you.’
He hadn’t called this morning yet and Flora replayed the last message again, thinking about what might happen next and how much scrutiny she and her family might be subjected to. There was a tap on her door, and Charlie’s head peeped around it, holding a tray. He carried it over and settled on the other side of her bed, the mattress shifting under his weight.
‘You should eat,’ he said, sliding the tray onto her lap and offering her a plate of toast. She shook her head with a shrug.
‘I’m not hungry.’ She stared at him quizzically. ‘Have you seen the photos?’
‘I looked them up. I thought I should see them.’
‘And?’
Charlie sighed, as Flora replaced the toast on the tray. ‘Anyone can capture a moment in a picture and make it seem like it’s something it’s not. You and Mac look very close, and I can see why people believe that there’s something going on. I don’t think we should call Mum yet, in case the story just disappears, but we’ll have to if it looks like it’s going to keep on running.’
Her phone rang then, making her jump, and Charlie stood up, dropping a kiss on her head as he left the room. Flora stared at the screen, her finger trembling anxiously over Mac’s name, and she stared until the ringing stopped. A moment later the voicemail icon popped up and she deleted his message without listening to it. She typed a quick text to Sophie to let her know she was fine and would call later, and then tossed the phone onto her bedside table. Anxiety and fear were churning in her stomach. She knew there was only one place where she would be able to leave her thoughts behind: in a garden. She stood up and crossed to her case, angrily pulling out her work clothes as she hunted for a clean set. Soon she was ready; she left the phone in her room and carried the tray, the food uneaten, back to the kitchen.
Charlie and Sam were talking quietly and they both looked up as Flora entered. She gave them a wan smile, bending down to kiss Esther, who squealed, raising her arms to be lifted up. Flora obliged, snuggling the tiny girl’s plump body against hers. For some reason, the gesture reminded her of Tamsin, and she wondered how she had reacted to her note and whether she would still go to Róisín today.
‘I’m going to Annie’s cottage,’ Flora said, filling a glass with water whilst still holding Esther. ‘I know I’m a day early, but everything should be ready, and it would be good to make a start on the planting before Annie and Jon get back.’
‘Flora, are you sure you’re all right? What’s happened must have been a nasty shock.’
Flora tried to bat away Sam’s concern. ‘Well, it’s not our first, is it?’ She sighed as she handed the baby over to her sister-in-law. ‘Sorry, Sam, that wasn’t fair. I know you’re concerned but I am okay, honestly. I just need to be working.’ Silence drifted over them whilst Sam threw together a packed lunch and then Flora was outside, rummaging in the boot of her car for her trusty work boots and gloves. She found her plans for the garden and set off on foot.
Still only a small village, its origins rooted firmly in farming, Thorndale was popular with tourists, who arrived every day to wander around its craft courtyard and art gallery, and eat in the pub that offered locally brewed beer and home-made food. The only shop, no longer just the post office, had diversified with a deli counter, ice cream from a local dairy farm and excellent cheese. Flora was impatient to begin work and she hurried past the shallow, bustling river along the high street without pausing to appreciate her surroundings. Thoughts of the pictures of her and Mac – that people had seen and were no doubt gossiping over – churned through her mind and she prayed that her family’s past would not be dredged up again.
Willow Cottage was at the far end of a lane leading from the high street; only a high farm gate separated it from the fields and moorland beyond. When she reached the gate leading to the front garden, she finally paused her furious march and smiled with a genuine pleasure that eased the tension in her temples. When Annie Armstrong had married Jon Beresford in December last year, they had established an education trust through the Thorndale estate to provide sponsorship for two pupils to study at agricultural college.
Annie’s godmother, who had bequeathed her Willow Cottage, had been an Oxford professor until early retirement, and the principle of education for all had always been of great importance to her. Rather than sell the cottage or turn it into a holiday let, following her marriage, Annie had donated it to the trust to ensure it would always be a rent-free home for the students supported by the estate, and so it was occupied in its new capacity by two young people. Flora was thrilled to see that the garden was being carefully transformed, exactly as she had hoped, and knew that the weekend was going to be non-stop.
The plants had been delivered on time and she separated them into groups for the different borders, thankful for the opportunity of working alone, allowing her mind gradually to settle. But after lunch, Charlie and Sam arrived – wheeling a pushchair containing a sleeping Esther – and were quickly followed by Nathan and Ally, the two students who lived in the cottage. Nathan had arrived in Thorndale last summer, under difficult circumstances. He was quiet, polite and wary of making new friends, and a few of the villagers hadn’t immediately taken to him. But despite all that, he had gradually settled in, worked hard and was thrilled to have been offered one of the first places at college through the new education trust.
There was much to do in the garden and Flora was grateful for their help, as she directed her little team of volunteers. By late afternoon, they were much further on than Flora had hoped, and she was delighted with the results. They were sitting on the lawn, taking a break whilst they waited for Ally to return from the village with ice cream. Esther was playing on the grass, crawling between the plants and shrieking as Charlie slowly followed her. Flora smiled at them, appreciating once again her brother’s complete happiness in his marriage and family. She was drained but knew it to be more than the tiredness that came with physical exertion; sleep would be hard to come by when she eventually crashed into bed. The day in the garden had busied her mind, but it couldn’t free her from the scrutiny of the online world lurking somewhere beyond the cottage.
They heard Ally return, as the garden gate creaked, and Flora looked up in expectation of a refreshing ice cream to cool her after a day of physical work. But it wasn’t Ally who appeared in the garden, and Flora’s eyes widened in amazement as her heart fluttered in shock. Mac’s gaze swept over the group, before coming to rest easily on her, and Flora hurried to her feet, the bottle of water she held falling to the ground.
‘You followed me.’ Flora’s whispered words weren’t a question, merely a statement, as she took a step towards him and then halted suddenly. Charlie made his way to stand beside her, his squirming daughter held firmly under one arm, offering his support, as Nathan disappeared into the house. There was a challenge, too, in Charlie’s gesture and Flora appreciated it, even though she knew she didn’t need it. ‘How did you know where I was?’
‘The vicarage wasn’t hard to find, and I asked at the shop for the cottage. I’ve already been to Middlebrook and they said you weren’t back yet.’ Mac was still staring at her, exhausted and pale, and it was little consolation to know he was troubled, too. ‘Flora, I had to come and find you because you didn’t return my calls and there are things I have to say.’ He hesitated, his glance flicking to Charlie for a second, before returning to Flora. ‘Could we go somewhere?’
Strangely, Flora didn’t want to. They had created their own version of a secluded reality whenever they were together on the island, and now she just wanted to remain in the real world. ‘Whatever you need to say, you can say it here. This is my family.’
‘Okay. If that’s what you want.’ She nodded and Mac took a couple of strides forward, until he was near enough for her to touch. Her fingers trembled, remembering only too easily the shape of his shoulders and the feel of his bare skin against hers. She became aware of Sam, still sitting behind her, trying to yank Charlie back. It worked; he glanced down and then stepped away to join Sam, as they busied themselves amusing Esther, who was crawling amongst the pots on the lawn.
Mac began to speak. ‘I’m sorrier than I know how to say about everything that’s happened. I wish I could change it and spare you whatever you and your family are going through just now.’ He sighed, running a hand over his face.
Flora waited, wanting desperately to close the gap between them, to hold him and be held in all the ways she had been imagining for weeks. She scrunched her hands into tight fists, unable to escape his solemn blue-grey gaze, as her feet remained planted to the ground.
‘You should know that the pictures of Chloe and me in Ibiza were a set-up, Flora. They were only taken to imply something that’s not real. There was nothing in them that couldn’t be passed off as mates, old friends meeting up. I made sure of that.’
‘What?’ Flora felt shock, a moment of relief and then resentment chasing one another through her mind, as she tried to make sense of his words. ‘But why?’
‘Chloe and I ended our relationship a few months ago, but then she called out of the blue on the day of Mel’s wedding to ask me for help.’ Mac rubbed his neck with an agitated hand. ‘She’s seriously involved with someone she works with, and they were desperate to keep it out of the press until filming’s over and they could announce it.’
‘But why you?’ Flora whispered, a shred of hope growing into something more. ‘What does that have to do with you?’
‘She knew it was a big ask but she wanted something to divert attention should anyone be looking – she thought that a couple of pictures of me and her in a magazine would do the job. No one would be very interested in her getting back with an ex who isn’t part of her world.’ Mac was staring at Flora, his gaze pleading with her to understand. ‘I agreed, eventually, with a couple of conditions. The first was that the pictures would only run if she had no other choice and the second was that our agreement expired after four weeks, when she was due to finish filming. If they appeared after that, then I would say that she and I were still over and always had been. No one knew about it, other than her best friend, who was in Ibiza that weekend to take the shots. Not her agent, publicist – no one.’
He paused for a moment, before continuing. ‘The only reason I did it, Flora, was because Chloe had been there for me last year when Angus and Rachael died. She dropped everything to support me through those first weeks, when I couldn’t think straight. I wasn’t sleeping or eating properly, and I couldn’t work for a time. I knew she wouldn’t have asked me to do this unless she was desperate.’
Mac’s smile was wry, rueful. ‘But I’d just met you and we’d shared that amazing kiss at the wedding – and, quite honestly, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since. I knew that if you were angry with me, then at least one of us would be trying to keep their distance. So I didn’t contact you, didn’t do anything that might attract attention to us, still hoping that the images wouldn’t run, and it would all go away and you’d forgive me once I’d explained everything. Then Chloe texted to say someone was onto them, and the pictures were out. I wasn’t happy and realised then how complicated I’d let things get. I drove straight to Middlebrook to tell you myself.’
‘But I already knew.’ Flora knew she had assumed what everyone else had, she hadn’t tried to trust him or ask for the truth.
‘Yes. I was too late. And I was going to tell you, but you made it clear that everything that happened between us at the wedding was over and you weren’t interested. I’m so sorry that I hurt you, Flora. But I still wanted to protect you as much as possible until the final two weeks were up and Chloe could release her statement.’
‘What do you mean?’ Her voice was low, finally pressing him for the truth.
He paused and his gaze became gentler still. ‘The garden was the perfect excuse to bring you to the island and keep you safe there. But it wasn’t just that. I’d barely looked twice at it before I met you and, for me at least, everything changed when I found you there amongst the madness of it all that first morning. You looked like you’d come home and now there isn’t anyone else I would trust with its future, however you feel about me.’
Esther was crying now, and Flora wanted to join her. Tears pressed at her eyes and she swallowed down her desire to tell him it was how she had felt that morning too, and her elation that he had recognised it. Moira’s final words before Flora had left raced into her mind and she blurted out her next question. ‘The room at the B&B? I thought you’d done that just to keep me out of your way.’
Mac nodded wryly. ‘So Moira told you? I did want you out of the way but not for the reason you think. If Chloe’s story went public before she’d finished filming, any reporter looking for me as the ex she’d cheated on would go to the hotel and find you. The cottages are pretty isolated, but I knew they could still be found, as everyone knows they’re mine. I asked Doug and Moira to be ready to take care of you if needed, but even they didn’t know why. With the B&B closed, I didn’t think anyone would come looking for you there. And every moment on the island with you, Flora, just made me realise how much I wanted you to stay and how it was beginning to feel like home again, after Angus and Rachael. I felt we were safe there and I was struggling to pretend, to stay away from you. And then Tamsin and how everything is between you both. I didn’t see that coming.’
Tears shone in his eyes and Flora rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him. She held him, feeling his tension dissolve, relief coursing through her. ‘I didn’t trust you,’ she muttered sadly. ‘I should’ve done, when you asked me to give you time, after the ceilidh.’
Mac pulled his head back to look at her, and she nearly gasped at the tenderness, the new openness, she saw there. ‘You had no reason,’ he said softly. ‘It was a lot to ask, given what happened before, with your dad, and how I left you after the wedding. And then Chloe’s story broke and everything changed again. She only came to apologise; she’s already left to sort out what happens next. Flora, I’m sorry I’ve made such a mess of things.’ He touched a hand to her cheek, stroking her face gently. ‘So, really, what I’m trying to say is that I love you. I have done probably since that first weekend after you marched up to me with your crazy dare and made it impossible for me to forget you. It wasn’t until the evening at Doug and Moira’s that I began to think you might feel the same.’
She gasped at his words, as she began to accept the truth of his feelings. Everything around them melted away and even the sound of the birds in the trees seemed silenced, as she listened.
‘I can’t fast-forward forty years and show you our history, Flora. But I want to spend my life creating it with you and showing you all the ways you can trust me.’
‘How do I know that I can?’ She whispered the words, hardly able to think of anything other than the fact that he loved her, as his hand continued to stroke hers.
‘You don’t,’ he told her simply. ‘But if you love me too, and I’m praying that you do, then you’re going to have to try to let me show you the rest.’
He let go of her hand to draw her into his arms, pulling her against him. She could feel his heart racing, as they held one another again, until he placed his lips against her temple and kissed her lightly. He drew back to look at her. ‘Doug and Moira send their love,’ he said gently. ‘And Tamsin asked me to tell you that her plants have grown, and she liked your note but still wants her hug.’
Flora did cry then at his words, tears skittering down her face as she thought of Tamsin, far away on the island. Mac leant forward and lightly kissed her lips, before he spoke again. ‘I have to go home now, Flora. I’ve got to make the last ferry. And I’ll be there if you decide to come back and give me another chance. It’s up to you.’