Lily didn’t need to say anything when Sophie appeared back at her door. Enfolding her in her arms, Sophie smelt the comforting scent of her grandmother’s Penhaligon’s Bluebell perfume and her eyes filled with tears.
‘Come and sit in the living room,’ Lily murmured, handing Sophie a tissue as they broke apart. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
Sophie walked through the hallway, wondering how she’d ended up so near and yet so far from Alex. She wished she’d had more time to tell him how she felt; how, even though he’d kept things from her, she did understand why he’d done it. She hadn’t realised she’d been living on such a knife edge since losing the baby and splitting with Mark; that she’d been avoiding anything that would actively make her feel. When she’d met Alex, he’d bridged a gap in her heart that she hadn’t truly realised existed; and now he’d gone, and that gap felt unbridgeable, especially after the way they’d parted. Grabbing her phone again, which she’d plugged into her car’s phone charger on her weary way back from the airport, she tried his number; yet again, it went straight to voicemail. So much for having the phone switched on all the time, she thought in irritation, then realised it was most likely because he was thirty odd thousand feet in the air.
Suddenly feeling in need of some air herself, she wandered towards the French windows that led out into Lily’s back garden. The bees were drinking lazily from the honeysuckle that rambled amiably over the stone wall between Lily’s land and next door’s cottage, intertwining like a lover’s caress with the clematis, which was just coming to the end of its flowering. In the rows of flowerbeds that lined the walls, the Old English roses that Lily loved so much were pouring forth their scent in their full glory, perfuming the air and consigning the honeysuckle to the background. A riot of colour, their thorns were poised to plunge into unwary fingers. Sophie reached out and took hold of one of the stems, and as the sharp pinprick pierced her flesh she hoped it would give her some relief from her aching heart. She wished so fervently that she’d had the chance to see Alex one more time before he left but it was too late. She didn’t even have an address for him in Vancouver. Looking down at the bead of blood on her finger, she watched as it spilt.
‘Careful, it’ll get infected.’ A low voice emanated from the direction of the gate at the back of Lily’s garden, the one that led out onto High Street. Sophie tore her hand away from the stem of the rose, the blood from her finger dripping onto her jeans. She was rooted to the spot; all she could stammer out was, ‘I thought you’d gone.’ Sophie couldn’t bring herself to turn around, afraid that if she did, he’d disappear. ‘I must be imagining things.’
‘I promise you, you’re not.’ His voice was drawing closer, but his footsteps down the garden path were slowing, sounding more and more hesitant. Sophie could feel the atmosphere between them building, the tension pulling her to turn to look at him. But she couldn’t do it. He had to come to her.
‘Gran told me you’d taken the next flight back to Vancouver via Schiphol.’
‘I was booked onto it. But then Matthew Carter came round and I changed my mind about running away.’
‘But why tell Gran you were leaving?’ Sophie shook her head in confusion.
‘I didn’t.’ Then, she heard him draw in a sharp breath. ‘Oh, God, I was so messed up yesterday afternoon before Matthew came to find me, I booked a flight and used Lily’s printer in her study to get a hard copy of the details. I’d ruined things with you, Jonathan had bawled me out and I just wanted to get home. I must have left the extra copy of the booking on the printer. She must have seen it and put two and two together this morning. She probably assumed I’d cleared out early as I shoved my suitcase under the bed, out of sight. I packed everything up before Matthew came over, after writing you that note, of course, which probably made no sense after all the drinking.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘And when I saw you hugging Mark goodbye on your doorstep—’
‘Oh, God,’ Sophie groaned. ‘He came round last night, I was half-cut, too, and I let him in. He comforted me, that was all. Nothing happened, I swear.’
Alex smiled ruefully. ‘It wouldn’t have mattered if it had. After all I’ve put you through, I’d have understood.’
‘There’s no way I’d ever get back together with Mark,’ Sophie said. ‘He caught me at a vulnerable moment and was a shoulder to cry on, that’s all.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Alex shook his head. ‘What matters is you and me.’ He edged closer to her, as if he was terrified she’d bolt.
‘So where did you go this morning, then?’ Sophie asked. ‘If you weren’t planning on getting on that plane.’
‘I just crashed out last night, and then I got up this morning without changing and went to the churchyard. It sounds odd but I wanted to talk to Jack. After I’d been there a while, I started walking, and ended up on the other side of Crook Peak.’ He laughed. ‘It’s taken me this long to walk back!’
That all made sense, Sophie thought, especially since Alex’s phone kept going to voicemail this morning. Signal was intermittent on the hills.
Alex was only a couple of feet away now. Sophie could see his dark hair in her peripheral vision, but still she couldn’t turn and look at him. ‘Now that’s all explained, can we please talk about us?’ he said softly.
‘Us?’
‘Yes. Us. You and me. And exactly what that means. To me, at least.’ Alex stepped off the path and stood alongside Sophie, still hesitant, it seemed. The blood dripped from her finger. She started as a warm hand reached out and wrapped a tissue around it, stemming the flow and holding her hand in his.
‘Aren’t you going to look at me?’ Alex asked softly, still holding her hand.
‘I don’t think I can.’ Sophie laughed nervously. ‘I still don’t really believe you’re here.’
‘I promise you, Sophie, here beside you is exactly where I’m supposed to be.’
Sophie’s hands were suddenly trembling so much that the tissue slipped from her fingers. As it fluttered to the floor, she could bear it no longer. Turning around, she saw Alex standing in front of her, a look of nervous anticipation in his eyes.
‘Oh, Alex.’ She flew into his embrace. As his arms enfolded her, she felt as though she was coming home.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Alex murmured into her hair. ‘For everything. Can you forgive me?’
Sophie broke apart from him and looked up into his open, sincere and handsome face. ‘I wish you’d told me the truth,’ she said softly. ‘And although I was angry that you kept things from me, I think I understand why you felt you had to do it. It must have been one hell of a decision to come here, knowing that Jack was your father, and incredibly difficult to keep that secret. And although I wish you’d told me from the start, I guess I can see why you didn’t. So yes. I do forgive you. And, Alex…’
‘Yeah?’
‘I love you. So, so much. It took the threat of you leaving to make me realise that.’ She reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his eyes.
‘Oh, God, Sophie, I love you too.’ He pulled her close again, and his lips met hers briefly before he continued. ‘Even when I booked that flight I knew, deep down, I couldn’t get on it.’
Sophie swallowed. ‘I can’t say it didn’t hurt that you didn’t come clean with me about who you really were,’ she said slowly. ‘But Gran talked some sense into me about why you might have felt you had to keep it from me. She, of course, had you sussed from the start.’
‘I don’t doubt that,’ Alex said dryly. ‘She’s the sharpest person I’ve ever met.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’ Lily, standing at the French windows, smiled. ‘Hello again, Alexander.’
‘Hey, Mrs Henderson.’ With his arm still around Sophie, they both turned to face Lily.
‘I take it you two are reconciled?’ Lily’s eyes twinkled.
‘You make us sound like a lovestruck couple in one of your novels,’ Sophie said, but she couldn’t keep the smile from her face.
‘I call it as I see it,’ Lily replied. ‘Would you like that tea? Or perhaps you’d prefer something a little stronger.’
Sophie smiled back up at Alex. ‘I think the tea will be fine.’ Hand in hand, they headed back into the house.