Page 106 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
She nodded. “It was.” Until the last few days, anyway. The bitter taste at being deceived rose again. Then faded. How could she call herself a Christian and still resent this woman?Lord, forgive me. Help me to forgive.
“Are you … teaching at all these days?” Doreen winced. “I know things didn’t end terribly well, but we could really do with some good help. I’m afraid Belinda didn’t quite work out.”
“I, uh, I’m not sure of my plans at this stage.”
“There you are.” EJ looped her hand around Liv’s arm, then paused. “Wait, you’re that teacher, the one who didn’t choose Liv for the history position—”
“Which was a mistake,” Doreen confessed. “Hindsight is a beautiful thing.”
EJ snorted. “Anyone could have told you not picking Liv was a mistake. But we need to go. Now.”
Liv nodded to Doreen, relieved for the excuse to be whisked away, yet glad to feel vindicated, and to have mended one bridge at least. She might have burned her bridges as far as Liam was concerned, but she didn’t need to let unforgiveness hold her prisoner.
After church they drove to the hospital, which had done its best to add some Christmas cheer by decking the halls with tired tinsel and shiny foil purple shapes that hung haphazardly. Much like her heart, hanging by a thread.
The rest of the day passed not as it usually did, in eating a glorious Christmas feast and unwrapping presents, but by watching lame Christmas movies before they finally watched the King’s address on TV.
“It’s not like when the Queen used to do it,” her mother scoffed.
No, nothing was like it used to be.
Two days later, Dad was discharged and given very careful instructions about what to eat, what to do. Which meant a modified belated Christmas meal and present unwrapping.
Liv straightened the bonbons, the paper-wrapped treats containing paper hats and silly tiny toys and jokes that had been present on every Christmas Day table she could remember.
A knock came at the door. “Are we expecting anyone?” she asked. She hoped not. She’d be happy to hide and lick her wounds in private and never speak to anyone again.
“Liv, can you open it?” EJ called from the back room where the others were keeping Dad amused while he watched the second day of the Boxing Day cricket match.
Shecould.But she didn’t want to.
She moved into the front hall and opened the door. “Gran!”
“Hello, darling girl.”
Then her gaze lifted. And she almost fell over again. “You!”
His smile was tentative. “Hi, Liv. May we come in?”
Liam watched as she hesitated.Lord, let her forgive me.His prayers hadn’t stopped since he’d seen her driving away from Hartbury Hall, just as the fireworks had exploded behind him. He’d wanted to chase her, but George had insisted he needed to stay to close the event; then by the time it had finished it had been too late. Too late literally, for when he’d gone the next day to Veronica’s he’d discovered that Liv had returned to Australia.
“What do you mean she’s gone?”
Veronica had suddenly looked very old. “She’s left. John, her father, had a heart attack, and she took the first flight she could get.”
“Oh, poor Liv.”Lord, comfort her. Be her strength.Now, more than ever, he wanted to hug her, hold her, let her know he cared.
Veronica had sighed. “I thought I’d try to go, but I don’t fancy travelling all that way. Not at my age. Besides, I’m not sure she’d want me there. Not when she feels like we all lied to her.”
“I’m sorry, Veronica. I should’ve been up-front from the start.”
She’d shaken her head. “We all knew why you weren’t. But I could’ve sworn we told her.”
He’d tossed and turned as he wondered about the wisdom of following, before George had basically begged him to go and catch the first flight leaving London on Boxing Day.
“Don’t you get it?” she’d said. “She’s not running to someone else, like Trinny and Toni were. She’s running away from you.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
