Noah’s father still wasn’t returning his calls, but the latest report in the papers was that Rodney was ‘holed up in a love nest’ with his pregnant girlfriend and that both his wife and son had gone to ground. The estranged husband of his father’s girlfriend, Faith, apparently had no qualms about talking to the press and he was definitely doing his bit to keep the story going when it might otherwise have died down. His most recent claim was that the baby might not even be Rodney’s, because he and Faith had an active sex life right up until the night before she left him. Noah might have found his mother’s calm and total acceptance of the situation strange, but it was certainly preferable to having to read about how adventurous his father’s new girlfriend had been in bed with her ex.
Noah knew he should just ignore the stories, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from putting his father’s name into Google every time Rodney failed to answer another one of his calls. Each time he looked there’d be another story, but it still seemed so surreal that his pious and judgemental father was at the centre of all of this.
The calls from journalists were still coming in thick and fast and he’d even discovered a photographer lurking in the churchyard one morning, when he was out walking Pablo. Noah kept hoping that another story would break and that the journalists pursuing him would disappear as quickly as they’d arrived. He’d asked Jeremy if James could take over the services at St Jude’s for a little while. It was a strange situation and usually they’d have got another locum vicar in, but his godfather was clearly hoping that the situation would resolve itself as quickly as Noah was. Luckily James was happy to provide cover and it would stop the services at St Jude’s descending into some kind of media circus. It also meant that Noah could spend more time at the hospice with Izzy and that’s what he had every intention of doing. At least until the phone call that changed everything all over again.
‘Hello?’ Noah was already poised to put the phone down if the call turned out to be from another journalist offering him blood money to sell his story. He had nothing to say anyway.
‘How does your girlfriend feel about the fact that your father cheated on his wife of more than thirty years? Is she worried that even marrying a vicar won’t guarantee she doesn’t get cheated on too?’
‘Who is this?’ Noah was sure he’d heard the voice before, but he usually slammed the phone down so fast that he wouldn’t recognise one journalist from another.
‘Bryce Johnson and before you cut me off, I’m giving you one more chance to tell me your side of things before I speak to your girlfriend.’
‘I haven’t got a girlfriend.’
‘That’s not what the pictures on your Instagram account suggest and I got some very cosy photos in the grounds of St Levan’s too.’
‘You followed me to a hospice? What the hell is wrong with you?’ If Bryce Johnson had been standing in front of him, Noah would have been in serious danger of breaking the commandment not to kill.
‘Anything for a story.’ Bryce actually sounded proud of himself. ‘Look, I already know she’s a midwife working in Port Agnes and that she and her family have been coming to you for spiritual guidance during her grandmother’s illness. Is that an Andrews family move, getting close to a parishioner when they’re vulnerable and using it to your advantage?’
‘You’re disgusting.’ Noah had been a millisecond away from hitting the button to end the call when Bryce went even further.
‘If you won’t talk to me, I’ll have to talk to Izzy instead.’
‘Whatever you saw isn’t what you think. I was comforting a friend who’s losing someone she loves. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself for hiding out in your car taking photos of someone who’s grieving?’ Noah had no qualms about lying to a gutter-dweller like Bryce, but if he thought he might be able to evoke some empathy from a vulture, he was out of luck.
‘Time will tell. No matter how good a friend you are, you wouldn’t be down there all the time if friendship was all it is. I’ll be watching and if I think she can give me a new angle, I’m going to take it. This story isn’t going to go away, unless you make it go away.’
‘And what do I need to do to make it go away?’ Noah would do almost anything to protect Izzy, but there were other innocent people caught up in this too; not least his mother.
‘Either talk to me or disappear off the face of the earth, because until you do, people like me are just going to keep coming to you for your side of the story. It’s in the public interest.’ Bryce was relentless. ‘Just let me tell your side of things and this can all be over.’
‘It already is.’ Hitting the screen to end the call, Noah breathed out. The chance of Bryce ever getting an interview from him couldn’t have been more over if they’d both dropped dead. But he had a horrible feeling that if he was going to have a chance of protecting Izzy from all of this, something else would have to be over too.
It was Pops who’d shown Izzy the article in the paper about Noah’s father. She realised he must have been going through hell and the ‘fame’ he’d never wanted from being an Instagram sensation meant that his name was being dragged through the mud along with his father’s. The fact that he hadn’t mentioned it was testament to what a good man he was. He was allowing Izzy to focus on her own pain, but she wanted to be there for him too. So when Nonna had asked her to go back to Port Agnes and get some bits she needed from the houseboat, Izzy hadn’t hesitated.
She’d asked Noah if he could meet up with her down at the harbour, because she wanted to give him the chance to offload some of his worries on her, the way he’d done for her almost since the moment they’d met. He came down to the hospice every day, but there was so little chance to talk there, and Nonna and Pops needed him too. She had no idea whether the situation with his father had tested his faith even further, or whether it had helped convince him of his beliefs, but if he needed someone to be there for him, Izzy wanted it to be her.
She’d found the boxes her grandmother had asked her to bring back to the hospice. She hadn’t wanted to ask what was in them, because she wasn’t sure she was ready for the answer. Hearing her grandmother talk about her will and her funeral made the nausea swirl in Izzy’s stomach. She wasn’t ready. She’d never be ready.
‘Izz, can I come in?’ Noah called out as he pushed open the door of the houseboat.
‘Of course you can. I’m so glad you made it.’ For a moment she could pretend everything was normal and that all she had to do was look forward to spending time with this wonderful man, who had managed to convince her that there were people other than her grandparents who she could trust with her heart.
‘You look beautiful.’
‘Only you would say that. I can’t remember the last time I put any make-up on, but I have brushed my hair especially for you.’ She smiled. It was so nice to push reality to the back of her mind even for a little while and she had to believe there would come a point when spending time with Noah was her normal again. Even though she couldn’t imagine a future without her grandmother in it, it was incredibly easy to picture a future that featured Noah and it was what she wanted.
‘I’m saying it because I mean it.’ He moved to face her, taking hold of both of her hands. ‘Before I say anything else, I need to tell you something. I love you.’
‘Please don’t say that. It’s too soon.’ She was only saying it to protect herself; she loved him too, but she didn’t want him mistaking love for something else until he was as sure as she was. The prospect of him loving her and, more than that, of her loving him back, was terrifying. As much as she might secretly have longed for him to say the words, now that he had, a big part of her wanted him to take them back. If she stopped pretending this was something casual, she wouldn’t be able to pretend it didn’t hurt if things went wrong, and she had far too much experience of being rejected to believe that they wouldn’t.
‘Is it? I don’t think so, because I’ve known it for a while, but I don’t expect you to tell me that’s how you feel if you aren’t ready.’
‘I love you too.’ The words seemed to have a will of their own, but once they were out there, she couldn’t take them back. More than that, she realised she didn’t want to. She wasn’t sure she’d ever had a moment when she’d felt petrified and elated at the same time. Until now. She’d opened up to Noah in a way she never had to anyone and, instead of running a mile, he had told her he loved her. Izzy was shaking, but it was almost like a weight had been lifted off her. She’d been carrying a secret around and now it was out there.
‘You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear that.’ For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but there was a downturn of his mouth in complete opposition to his words and it felt as if her heart had stopped.
‘What’s wrong?’ She could feel a vein pulsing in her neck, the anticipation of hearing something she didn’t want to making it much more apparent.
‘I’m leaving Port Agnes.’ All the elation she’d experienced at telling him how she felt had evaporated in seconds and she couldn’t stop herself from shivering, because all that was left was the terror of having made herself so vulnerable. How could he tell her he loved her and then follow it up straight away by saying he was leaving? If he’d even half meant what he’d said, there could only be one explanation.
‘Because of what’s happened with your dad?’
‘You know about that?’ He sighed as she nodded.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘You’ve got enough on your plate and that’s why I need to leave. I’ve got journalists calling me every five minutes and what my father did is affecting St Jude’s. Poor James is having to fill in for me and I’m useless here.’
‘Not to me you’re not.’ Izzy steeled herself to ask the question she knew she had to ask. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Scotland.’
‘Scotland? What about Nonna?’ Izzy wanted to scream ‘and what about me’ too. A moment ago he’d told her he loved her and now he was going about as far away as he could without actually leaving the UK. That was bad enough, but the fact that it sounded as if he was going to break the promise he’d made about being there for her grandmother made even that pale into insignificance. ‘When?’
‘Tonight, and I’m not sure when I’m coming back, or if I even will.’ Izzy could barely take in what he’d said. For a moment she thought she might actually be sick. If she could turn back time she’d never have admitted how she felt, because telling him she loved him made it impossible to try and brazen this out. She’d fought so hard not to give anyone the chance to reject her again, but she’d opened the door to Noah and he’d instantly stomped all over her heart. She only had herself to blame, an idiot who should have known better.
‘Please don’t do this.’ She didn’t want to have to plead with him, but she’d do whatever it took not to be right about what a huge mistake she’d just made.
‘I’m so sorry Izzy, but I have to.’ As he tried to reach out to her, she snatched her hand away.
There was a rage boiling up inside of Izzy that she hadn’t felt since Kirsten had failed to show up at the airport, but she wasn’t sure whether she was angrier at Noah for taking the coward’s way out, or herself for stupidly confiding in him about her feelings. Either way, she didn’t trust herself to answer him.
‘I don’t want to go, but I can’t bear the thought of you getting dragged into any of this when you already have so much to worry about.’
‘Don’t you think that should be my decision?’ Izzy gritted her teeth so hard it hurt and the words she said next were intended to cause even more pain. ‘Do you really think your father’s sordid affair comes anywhere near what I’m going through? Or is this all just another excuse because you can’t even trust yourself to decide how you feel, or what you believe in? Are you worried you’ll get bored of me, like you’ve got bored of the church?’
‘Izzy, don’t.’
‘Don’t what? Tell it like it is?’ She curled her hands into fists and clenched them by her side. ‘My God, you’re so much like my bloody mother. Full of self-pity and trotting out promises that turn out to be worth absolutely nothing if it means you making any kind of sacrifice. Just run away like she always does. You know you want to.’
‘I don’t want to.’ He tried to reach out to her again, but she flinched as if she’d been burned. ‘I know you’re angry and I understand why, because I hate the fact that I won’t be here for you or your grandparents when you need me most. But I really do love you and when you’re ready, if you want to, I’ll be waiting. You could come to Scotland, or we could go somewhere else.’
‘Did you fall and hit your head?’ He couldn’t seriously think it was that easy. This was her mother all over again; everything was on his terms. But just like Kirsten, he’d probably change his mind again, even if Izzy was willing to dance to his tune, which she wasn’t. ‘What about Pops? Am I supposed to leave him to just get on with it when Nonna is gone?’
‘Wherever we go would have to work for George. I want to be there for him too.’
‘He needs you now!’ Izzy couldn’t keep the desperation out of her voice, but Noah was slowly shaking his head.
‘I know and if there was any way of me staying without this causing everyone even more stress, then I promise I would.’ There was a real sadness in his eyes and his voice sounded strained, but he was still leaving. She wasn’t even sure what was real and what was an act any more. Looking at him, she might have been able to believe this was hurting him as much as her, but it couldn’t be, not when he was making the choice to go.
‘Causing you more stress you mean.’ Izzy couldn’t even look at him any more. ‘Just get out. Go on, sod off to Scotland and run away from all the hard stuff. You’ve got form, after all.’
‘Izzy—’
‘Get out!’ She screamed the words this time, knowing deep down that at least some of the venom she was directing at Noah belonged at her mother’s door. But she’d been let down by the first person she’d ever really let in. She should have kept her heart closed to outsiders, the way it always had been, because now it was going to be broken twice over.