Page 43 of The Lucky Escape

‘No. Nothing.’

‘We decided on Mona Lisa for a reason, right?’

‘Totally,’ I said, privately thinking we’d never actually use it. ‘Enjoy your day. Go and collect some stories to regale me with over supper.’

‘Cool,’ he said, already halfway out of the door.

I splayed out on the sofa and watched the trees move in the breeze outside. He had definitely been strange, despite his protestations. Maybe I could bring things down a notch – I had been talking a lot, and potentially been a bit silly by the time we’d drunk all that wine at the tasting. Yes, that was it: I’d pull back, try not to be as ‘much’.

I grabbed the iPad from my room, my heart twinging at the wallpaper photo of Carol, right after her last fur trim.Please be okay,I wished up to the stars. I connected to the Wi-Fi so I could research how to spend the day. The Core Four had sent texts overnight: Kezza had just signed a new writing duo on a project she was sure she could get greenlit, Jo had suffered Braxton Hicks and was betting the baby would come early, and Bri said that Angus had a new job he’d interviewed six times for, each time getting higher and higher in the food chain with who he had to impress.I honestly thought he was going to come home and say his final round had been with God herself!she’d written.

I sent back some snaps of the vineyard, including a photo I’d sneakily taken of Patrick holding a wineglass by its stem, leaning in to smell what was in it. The collar on his polo shirt was up, his blond hair floppy and un-gelled, making him look like a moneyed actor in a still from a movie abouta summer romance. They’d said they wanted to know what he looked like, after all.

Mum had messaged too.

Annie. Who was the man on the phone to your sister? I know you didn’t meet him there because he didn’t have an accent. Freddie says her lips are sealed, but I don’t think it is appropriate to have a child keep secrets for you. Mum.

I almost sent her the same photo, just to wind her up, but knew it wasn’t worth the hassle.

I texted Freddie to ask if she’d heard anything about the dog, and to see if she was okay. I’d tried not to let my thoughts drift into catastrophizing, but without Patrick around to distract me I suddenly had room in my head for wondering.Please be okay, Carol. Please.Nobody had tried to call me, and the vet she was registered to hadn’t emailed. I told myself I’d give it twenty-four more hours. If we hadn’t heard anything by then, I’d allow myself to have a meltdown of worry.

Finally, I hit the email app to satisfy the blinking ‘1’ that sat in the corner of the logo, letting me know there was something waiting for me. Bile rose to my throat when I saw his name in bold at the top of my inbox, next to an empty subject line. Alexander. I opened the message before I could change my mind.

Annie,it said, and I noticed right away that it was a huge chunk of text – a big paragraph.

I dropped the iPad onto the sofa cushions. I didn’t want to know.

I did want to know.

I didn’t.

I did.

Annie. I need you to forgive me. Your mum has messaged me, and Jo wrote and said some pretty horrible things in severalemails, but we both know I made the choice that was the best for you, and for me. As you probably saw from my out of office I’m in Singapore, working from the HQ here. I’ll stay out here until you call the dogs off – we can’t talk if everyone is just going to shout at me, and we do need to talk. I think you know we couldn’t get married. It would have been a tremendous mistake. We were university sweethearts but not life partners. We got carried away. The way I did everything wasn’t great, but I think I was waiting for you to be the one to finally say it, and then it was almost too late …

Dad said you went to Australia without me. I hope you find the courage to move on out there, to want something more for yourself. I want more for myself too. I think that’s okay to say. This is best for both of us.

A x

Everything that had begun to mend inside me came crashing down, all at once, every word unpicking my self-esteem. My stomach sank, my neck was red hot, I wanted to be sick. Where was his kindness, his softness?We were university sweethearts but not life partners,he’d said. What the hell!

I paced around the sunken living area, up and down, processing his words. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wished Patrick was there to say something silly and witty and oddly insightful.

Patrick. What would he have told me to do?

Patrick would have said we only have one life, and to make the most of it. That if Alexander didn’t want me, I could just go on right ahead and enjoy myself without him. He didn’t get to elbow his way into my inbox and change the whole mood of my holiday. And Patrick would be right.

I went into the bedroom and pulled on my bikini, wiping away the tears that had gently fallen down my cheeks withoutme really noticing. Resolutely, I put on my sunglasses, picked up my bag and a bottle of water, and pulled open the door. On the other side was Patrick, and I almost collided with him.

‘Jesus!’ I screamed.

‘Hi! Hello! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’ He looked sheepish, and held out a fridge magnet that said,I love Margaret River.

‘What’s this?’ I asked, taking it. If I sounded angry, it’s because I was. I was angry at Patrick, at the email, at the world.

‘I missed you,’ he said.

I pouted at him. ‘You’ve been gone less than half an hour.’

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