Page 25 of Starting Over at Halesmere House
Chapter Eight
Alice already felt flat on Saturday morning after last night. The party had been brilliant, exciting, at least until the way she and Zac had parted at the end. She didn’t mind the horrid weather matching her low mood as she worked in the meadow, planting dozens of the hundreds of bulbs still left to go in the ground.
She’d only realised the significance of today’s date when an email had arrived earlier and coping with the weather had helped to keep her thoughts occupied. She wanted none of them, only to focus on the work on front of her. Having ordered daffodils, snowdrops and crocuses, she needed to get them in and soon, but it wasn’t really cold enough for the tulips yet. She retreated to the polytunnel when rain arrived to join the gale catching at the plastic fastened to the metal frame.
Even her waterproofs were flapping noisily as she trudged back to her studio, thinking longingly of a shower, a hot drink, the blazing fire, pyjamas and a cheering dose ofStrictlyon TV. The courtyard was deserted; everyone else clearly had more sense than to be out in this and even Arlo’s sheep were huddled against a wall. Alice let herself into the Flower Shed and switched on a lamp, brightening the room and chasing away some of the darkness.
Tea was her default so she put the kettle on, hoping a hot brew would warm her up some; she seriously needed to buy more thermals. There didn’t seem any point in lighting the stove; she just needed a quick blast of heat, then she would go home and letStrictlysteal her mind away to something more heartening than her memories. Sandy had set up a group chat with Alice and her sister-in-law, Jenna, so they could message during the programme and shout out their favourite dances. A cosy night in was all Alice craved to see out this day and tomorrow she would start again. This first anniversary would be over.
Once the tea was made, she dragged off her sopping waterproofs, leaving them to dry on the back of a chair. Stan was building her a table, large enough to seat ten, to use for guests, and last night at the party he’d promised it was nearly ready. Her muddy boots came off too and she stood them on some old newspaper she kept for the stove. She ran a hand through her damp hair, needing no mirror to picture what it must look like. She’d purposely left her phone in here all day, and she’d be safe to look at it now. Evening was almost here and no one else would have remembered what this date had once meant.
Clicking on the usual daily message from Jenna, Alice was expecting a merry update about the girls or more information about their upcoming weekend in the Lakes. But instead a single red heart was flashing at her like a beacon, and the phone slid from her grasp to crash at her feet. Tears were skittering down her cheeks, and her legs suddenly felt like string. Incapable now of keeping her upright, she sank to the stone floor as though she’d been felled.
She was trembling, the heartbreak in her mind being played out through her body, all of it unequal to the love and concern behind Jenna’s image. If she could see her now, Alice knew her sister-in-law would not have sent it, and she’d probably deliberated before pressing send anyway. But Jenna meant well, as ever. She was the only one who had remembered the importance of this date and voiced that memory with love. She knew what it meant to Alice, what might have been, had Alice given birth to her baby exactly one year ago today.
It was still her first thought on waking. The wondering, the anguish, and the never-ending sense of failure. Where had she gone wrong? What had she done to deserve it and why had it happened? What could, should, she have done differently? And the answers were always the same. Nothing, because no one knew. These things happen. No one could ever say why. The baby had slipped away and with it her dreams of lavishing her child with love.
Her mum probably hadn’t remembered, and Alice couldn’t blame her. She’d sympathised, rallied round in the days after Alice’s miscarriage, and assured her there was no point in looking back. Alice had known she was right but none of that practical sense went any distance to healing her heart, and it was barely ever mentioned between them. Her body recovered fairly quickly, and she was assured she could try again when she was ready. But that time with Gareth had never come and Alice, wrapped up in mourning, hadn’t noticed the fracture lines between them until it was too late.
‘Alice?’
The door had opened and her appalled gaze flew up to see Zac appear around it, quickly taking in the sight of her hunched on the hard floor in near darkness. She was too shocked, too slow, to hide her dirty and tear-stained face before he saw, and she swiped at it with hands she’d forgotten to wash as she dropped her head to rest it on bent knees.
‘Hey, what is it?’ Cautious footsteps were nearing, and she wrapped her arms around her body, trying to ward off him as much as the hurt.
‘I’m fine.’ The words were a whisper, loaded with the memory of her loss and hauled out from somewhere deep inside her. She was the same woman he’d danced with last night, whose hand he’d kissed when she’d looked and behaved so very differently. Today, now, she was back to the broken one and she’d never imagined or wanted him to see her like this. ‘You should go.’
‘Are you hurt?’
‘No.’ Not in the way he’d meant.
‘Is there something you need?’ Zac turned a hesitant shoulder to the door. ‘Should I call Sandy?’
‘I just need to be alone for a while, that’s all.’
‘I’m not sure you should be alone, not like this. Alice, please, let me help you.’
‘You can’t. No one can.’ She closed her eyes as he inched closer, feet quiet and sure on the hard stone, the cold rising to seep into her bones and chill her some more. She curled into herself, trying to make her body smaller still.
‘You’re shaking. Let me drive you home or come over to the flat and get warm. There’s no heat in here.’
‘Please don’t touch me,’ she whispered, opening her eyes to see his hand hovering between them. Her voice was hoarse, as though with her tears she’d cried away its softness, too.
‘I won’t touch you, I promise,’ he said quietly.
Just a fingertip might be enough to shatter the ice she’d built around herself after losing the baby, and he couldn’t be the one to crack it. With him she was supposed to be the other Alice, the one who was free and funny, with a laugh he found sexy. How would he ever look at her again without sympathy after witnessing her like this? Dirty, tearstained, broken by an image and dreams of what today might have been.
Her phone was still on the floor, and it hadn’t yet reverted to screensaver. He must have noticed the red heart still blaring, bringing her thoughts straight back to how she might have celebrated this day at home in Sheffield if everything had been different.
Might she have baked a cake and invited friends and family over to unwrap presents with a giggling baby, safely cocooned in the love and the life she’d been ready to give it? Instead she was here, sitting on the floor in the dark with a stranger who probably pitied her just like Gareth had. What was it he’d said, that last day when he’d stormed out of their home and left her alone? That her life had become a shadow and he didn’t want to live in it any longer.
She glimpsed Zac’s arms rising and then his hoodie was off. He draped it across her, tucking the sleeves around her body as best he could without making contact. ‘I can’t see anything else dry.’ He straightened and moved to the door. ‘I’ll be in the flat if you need me. Please don’t walk home alone like this.’
The door clicked quietly shut behind him and she had nothing to add. No thanks for his kindness, the hoodie around her that smelled of him and still contained his own body heat, as though he was able to warm her even from a distance. She had to move; she couldn’t stay here all night. The worst was over; the shock of Jenna’s message had passed.
Alice was stiff when she clambered to her feet, staring at the phone in her hand. She’d message Jenna later, when she was back at the barn and could think more clearly. She put Zac’s hoodie on and her coat over the top, switched off the light and locked up. The lane was darker than ink and she splashed through puddles, trying not to notice the other-worldly shapes and solid trees shuddering in the woodland alongside her. She hadn’t got a torch and didn’t want to soak her phone. When lights approached from behind, she stepped onto a soggy verge as the vehicle pulled up next to her.
Zac wound down the window and Alice opened her mouth. ‘Don’t even think it,’ he said sharply. ‘Get in. If I were Stan, you’d have said yes in the first place, not set out in the dark like bloody Wonder Woman. I’ve put the heated seat on.’ He leaned across and the door sprang open.
