Chapter Six

Holly decided to take a day off and went exploring instead. Her walks so far had mostly taken her through the village when she’d been staying with Emma and Tom. This time she went in the other direction. The only time she’d come this way was the day she’d bumped into Adam. She’d been driven along that stretch of road before and it didn’t look very interesting, or at least not as far as she could see. But as she couldn’t see all that far she decided she wasn’t really being fair. So off she went, bottle of water and apple in her backpack.

Beyond where she’d rummaged that first time it was actually quite pretty. The rivers diverged fairly quickly, one sweeping dramatically away from the road and the other, a much narrower body of water, following the black tarmac ribbon. She stayed with the road till she noticed a footpath between the trees and the river so she headed for that instead.

‘Oh, this is brilliant,’ she said aloud, her voice resonating. Embarrassed, she peeped over her shoulder to make sure there was no one else around. She didn’t usually talk to herself. The river looked really lovely here, not deep and with overhanging branches, and she could see tiny fish sparkling in the water. A flash of electric blue and orange streaked by at lightning speed and the only thing she could be sure of was that it was a bird. She had no idea what she’d just seen but she resolved to search for a book that would identify not just this little wonder, but all the others she could see flitting in and out of the trees.

Holly was fast coming to realise that this peaceful countryside was in fact far from serene. The almost constant birdsong, the trickling of the water, and the wind whispering through the branches all added to the volume, but the noises were very soothing. London with its totally different sounds seemed a very long way away.

She hadn’t gone very far when the character of the river changed. There were small boulders here and there – well, large stones really – the shallow water foaming as it splashed over them. Then she heard a new sound. Something was whimpering and, a few yards ahead and nearer to the opposite bank, she saw a dog with its front paw apparently caught between two rocks.

Now Holly knew animals about as well as she knew birds, but this one was obviously in trouble. She tried to use some of the larger rocks as stepping stones as she crossed the river towards the dog, but still managed to get one foot very wet. She couldn’t quite believe just how cold the water was.

As she approached he waved his tail, something she recognised as a sign of welcome, so she moved towards him confidently; but if he thought she could do anything to help he was sadly mistaken.

‘Hello, boy. You are in a pickle, aren’t you?’

Big brown eyes looked trustingly into hers. She found on closer inspection that his paw was entangled in fishing wire, which was also wrapped around a large stone. Holly tried to untangle the wire, both from the dog and the stone, but she didn’t have any scissors and the line remained firmly fixed. Not only that but, when she tried to ease his leg out of its trap, though the flag at one end continued to wave, there was a definite rumble coming from the throat at the other.

Holly realised she was causing even more pain and she didn’t have a clue what to do. She stepped onto the bank and pulled off her backpack. Emma’s number was stored in her mobile and she prayed for an answer.

‘Emma, I don’t know what to do. I just came out for a walk and now I’ve found a dog and it’s trapped and …’

‘Slow down, Holly, and start at the beginning. I missed half of that.’

So slow down she did and, because she’d kept to the river path, she had no trouble telling Emma exactly where she was.

‘I’ll get Adam down there as soon as I can. Just stay there and try to keep him calm so he doesn’t damage himself trying to pull his foot out.’

Emma had obviously learned a thing or two about animals since she’d moved to the country. She used to be as ignorant as Holly was. Neither of them had dogs when they were kids.

The poor thing was whimpering and trembling quite violently, so she gave up on trying to keep herself warm and dry and sat down on the bank next to him.

‘It’s okay, boy. Help is on its way. You’ll soon be free again.’

And there she stayed, stroking him and talking in what she hoped was a reassuring voice, until Adam arrived. Through the trees she saw his Land Rover stop almost exactly opposite where Holly was sitting. Well, at least I’ve done that right! Adam picked a path across the river and she noticed bitterly that he didn’t put a foot wrong. But he wasn’t interested in arguing with her today.

‘It’s Old Meg. She often goes AWOL and gets herself into trouble. Betty and Donald will be frantic by now. Good thing you were out here. She’s very cold and she’s very old. If you hadn’t found her I doubt she’d have made it through the day, never mind about lasting all night. Hypothermia can be a killer.’ And to the dog: ‘Come on, old girl. Let’s get you out of there.’

She was obviously soothed by his voice, and more so by what he told Holly was a painkilling injection. Once it had taken effect, she held her firmly, as instructed, while Adam worked to free her from her trap, and when he did Holly burst into tears. Adam, pretending not to notice, was feeling Old Meg’s foot and leg, examining her for signs of injury.

‘Don’t worry. She’ll be all right now. I’ll just take her back to the surgery and check her out thoroughly before I send her home. Well done!’

And he picked the dog up and he was gone. Just like that. Indignant at first she then realised that his concern for Meg was paramount and his anxiety to get her back and examine her properly far outweighed any other considerations. She rather admired him for that and, as a feeling of elation overwhelmed her because in her small way she had helped to save a life, she understood. If that was what it felt like, it was no wonder Adam got so upset when he lost one. She crossed the river and turned for home. Her feet were freezing and she needed a long hot bath, but inside she felt very warm.

The bath was wonderful. Dried and dusted, she put on tracksuit bottoms and a fleece, made coffee, and checked the phone for messages. Nothing as yet, but Gordon wouldn’t shut shop until five-thirty. And in any case she wasn’t quite sure what her own feelings were and was glad of a bit more time to reflect.

She sat down and thought about her morning’s adventure. Had she been a bit too hard on Adam? She knew she would have been devastated if Old Meg had died. Is that how he felt every time it happened to him? And she guessed the nature of the job meant it happened to him fairly often. Today she’d seen a new side to this man. It still didn’t excuse his rudeness, but it did explain it, at least to her satisfaction. Not, as her mother would have said, that there’s any excuse for bad manners. It did make them a little more understandable though.

She emptied her backpack, the contents of which thankfully were still dry, as she didn’t really want to have trashed her phone. She’d just finished making a sandwich for lunch – bugger healthy eating, she was hungry – when the bell rang. Taking a big bite, she went and opened the door and practically spat a mouthful of food at her visitor. She managed to swallow instead, but not without inducing a fit of coughing.

‘Harry, what the hell are you doing here?’

He was carrying an enormous bunch of flowers behind which he seemed to be cowering in a very un-Harry-like sort of way.

‘Can I come in, Holly? I feel a bit of an arse standing here on the doorstep like this.’

Oh no. This was so unfair: just when she was jogging along so nicely without him. She didn’t want her life turned upside down again. Her head was getting over him, but suddenly her heart was beating a tattoo loud enough to bring down the walls of Jericho.

She stepped back from the doorway and he walked past her into the cottage. She pointed him towards the kitchen and offered him a chair.

‘Coffee?’

‘Please. It’s been quite a journey.’

Holly put a mug in front of him and sat down on the opposite side of the table as her knees were beginning to knock and she wasn’t sure how long her legs would hold her. Harry was looking around, obviously quite impressed.

‘I thought I was going to find you in a tiny two-up two-down cottage. This is great!’

‘What are you doing here, Harry? What do you want?’

He turned back towards her.

‘It was all a mistake, Holly. A huge, terrible mistake. I miss you dreadfully. I want you to come home.’

He looked utterly miserable, but she’d been on the receiving end of his wiles before. She’d also given in to them before.

‘I am home, Harry,’ she said as gently as she could.

‘Things just aren’t the same without you. The house is gone and my new flat is soulless without you. Don’t six years of marriage count for anything?’

‘They did for me. Apparently they didn’t for you. Five times! And those are only the ones I know about.’

‘Holly, I know it must be a bit of a shock, me turning up like this, but I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t think you’d talk to me about it on the phone.’

Too right!

‘I’ve taken Monday off work, so I’ve still got two more days. I’ll check in at a B&B, or maybe I can stay here?’ He looked at her hopefully. A raised eyebrow was all the answer she gave him. ‘Then maybe we can talk later? Please, Holly. Let’s just talk about it, eh?’

Holly had never been impervious to his cajoling, and she felt herself weakening now. He must have sensed it.

‘At least have dinner with me. We can go to a nice cosy pub like we used to. Surely there’s no harm in that?’

‘I’m not changing my mind, Harry. The divorce is in progress. You know that.’

‘It doesn’t have to be. We can change our minds.’

Could it be that easy? Just phone the solicitor and call it off? But she didn’t want to call it off, did she?

‘Just have dinner with me. You owe me that.’

She didn’t actually feel she owed him a thing but thought it would be unkind to say so.

‘It won’t change anything, but if you want to spend your money taking me out for a meal, who am I to turn you down? Don’t think you can get round me, though. I’m making a nice life for myself here and I’m afraid it doesn’t include you any more. And you’d better book a table. The pubs around here are all very popular, particularly on Saturday nights. I’ll see you about eight. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got things to do.’

It sounded harsh but she needed to maintain her guard. She stood up and walked determinedly to the door, remembering as he passed to thank him for the flowers.

Holly leaned her back against the door and slid down to the floor. Sitting cross-legged, she burst into tears for the second time that day. At this rate she’d be dehydrated in no time. She wasn’t even premenstrual. Get a grip, girl. You’ve managed perfectly well on your own for almost six months now. Don’t let him do this to you. Remember what you went through. Be positive.

She wiped her nose on her sleeve; the fleece was lovely and soft. Pulling herself to a standing position she went to phone Emma for help, also for the second time that day.

‘Put the kettle on. I’ll be straight round.’

What price friendship?

***

It didn’t take Adam long to realise that his abrupt departure with Meg might have shown a lack of fellow feeling. He decided an apology was in order, or was it just another excuse to see Holly again? But as he parked his Land Rover opposite her house the door opened and a man he didn’t recognise came out. It was evident from the glimpse he had of Holly before she closed it that she wasn’t happy. Obviously he hadn’t picked his time well. Regretfully he started the engine again and drove away.

***

‘How do you feel? Do you want him back? Can you go through this again?’

‘Dreadful, no and no, but that’s when you’re here and talking sense. You should have seen him, Emma. He looked so, well, you know, Harry-ish. What am I going to do when he plies me with food and drink and reaches for my hand across the table? I’m not sure I’m proof against that. I still love him, you know. Well, a bit of me loves him, or maybe even just the idea of him. He’ll promise to be good and I’ll find myself believing him because I want to believe him. But he doesn’t know how to be good. One look at a bit of skirt, and he’s off. Oh, Emma. What am I going to do?’

‘You’re going to stick to your guns. I can come with you if you need support.’

Holly knew, horrible ordeal though it might be, that she meant it.

‘No. Thanks, but no. This is something I’m going to have to do on my own. Oh my God! I’ve just remembered. What about Gordon?’

‘Gordon! What about Gordon?’

Holly had the grace to blush.

‘He stayed for a long time after you left last night. We just talked and talked. I don’t know where the time went. He’s phoning me later. After work. Whatever am I going to tell him?’

‘The truth, of course. There’s no substitute for the truth. Now, I’m taking you home with me. You can spend the afternoon entertaining the boys and their friends. You remember I said Saturday was busy. Four six-year-olds – as if two weren’t enough! It’ll help me and be a diversion for you. We can’t have you sitting here all afternoon moping and worrying about what’s going to happen next. Come on. Get your stuff on. You can tell them all about Old Meg. You’ll be a heroine!’

In no time at all Holly found herself sitting on the floor playing Jenga with four small boys. Emma was right. They did think she was a heroine. After their friends left the twins took her to their room to show her their Humpty Dumptys. It was Jake’s that had the squint. They were going to take them into school after half-term to show everyone. Maybe all the children in the class could make one? Holly wasn’t at all sure she’d be very popular with their teacher!

Teatime came and Tom came home with some shopping, pecked Emma’s cheek, pecked Holly’s cheek, and swept the boys away to give them a bath. Holly put on her anorak and wandered off home. She’d just gone through the front door when the phone rang.

‘Holly, it’s Gordon. I’ve just locked up and I saw you walking along the road with your head down. You looked upset. Was it last night? Was it something I said?’

‘No, of course not. Can you come over? I need to talk to you.’

‘I’m outside right now.’

She was so quick, he was still pocketing his phone when she opened the door. He looked a bit sheepish.

‘It must look as though I’m stalking you.’

‘Come in. Would you like some coffee?’ She started making it automatically, much as she had earlier in the day for Harry, without even waiting for an answer.

‘Look at you; you’re as white as a sheet. What’s wrong?’

‘Gordon, there’s something I have to tell you. Harry …’ she paused before plunging on ‘… my husband, turned up at lunchtime. Out of the blue. Just arrived on the doorstep. No warning.’

‘Well I can understand that you might be a bit put out but you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘In a way I have.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Seeing him there, it reminded me of how it used to be. He wants me to have dinner with him. Sort things out.’

‘I thought you had sorted things out. I thought you’d settled in Cuffingham because you’d sorted it out. I thought you were a free agent.’

‘So did I, Gordon. I’m sorry but it seems I’m not as free as I thought I was.’

She could almost feel him withdrawing though he was absolutely still. Too still.

And there was a chill in his voice when he said: ‘Obviously I was wrong.’

He got up and went to the door, then turned towards her. She could see the hurt on his face.

‘Yesterday was very special to me, Holly. It seems it wasn’t the same for you. I guess maybe I misread your response and I’m sorry. It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt like this about anybody. I thought you felt it too but if you and Harry … well if you change your mind call me. But remember, you’re not the only one who can be hurt.’

And with that he turned and left. So much for Emma’s suggestion that she tell the truth! She didn’t feel that it had served her well, but in all fairness she didn’t know what else she could have done. Gordon was right. She wouldn’t be free until she’d seen Harry and sorted out how she felt about him. Feeling about a hundred years old, she went and got changed into something suitable for a night out, and sat down to wait for her very soon to be ex-husband.

***

By the time Harry arrived Holly was a bundle of nerves. She’d taken great care with her make-up. Silly since he knew every inch of her so intimately. She had to remind herself he’d known several other women intimately as well. Can a person change? It seemed he wanted to or he wouldn’t have chased her all the way to the Cotswolds.

She was so keyed up that when the bell rang she started violently and orange juice jumped from the glass she was holding and soaked the front of her dress. Instead of the determinedly cool but friendly welcome she’d intended to give him she was brushing herself down with a tea cloth and barely gave him a glance as she opened the door. Then she looked up. His eyes were alight with laughter and all the old feelings came rushing back. She’d never been proof against his charm.

‘Sorry, Harry. Got to get changed – and you can stop laughing at me. Help yourself to a drink if you like and sit down. I won’t be long.’

Holly scuttled upstairs, mentally checking her wardrobe. The pretty dress was discarded and instead she pulled on a pair of jeans and a rather seductive top, which she realised wasn’t a good idea but by now she was beyond caring. As she came back into the room Harry’s eyes dropped, he raised an eyebrow, and he looked like a man who’d won the jackpot.

‘No chance, Harry. Don’t even think about it.’