Page 54 of Fool Me Twice

When the plane finally touched down in the UK eleven hours later, the panic set in. What if Barbara had been wrong? Had he just been kidding himself, taking some romantic fantasy as an unwritten law? Maybe all that talk about never getting over your first love was just melodramatic teenage-girl speak and not a real thing.

At least he’d been able to pretend there was a chance it was real while they were in the air, but now, with the plane taxiing into position on the runway, he was about to find out whether Barbara was right or whether all his hopes of living out his very own happily ever after with Evie were about to come crashing down.

He’d spent the entire journey agonising over what he’d say to Evie when he landed, wasted pages trying to put his feelings into words, but he’d never shared Mac’s talent for making the words sing with his heart-wrenching ballads. Nor did he share Bogey’s confidence or Oz’s movie-star good looks. He was just plain Peter Cook, a bald, middle-aged has-been who’d been famous for five minutes a million years ago.

What could he possibly offer a woman like Evie, except his heart?

Checking his phone before disembarking, Peter prayed he’d see a text or missed call from Evie. His stomach sank when all he saw was a good-luck text from Bogey and a couple of emails. Her anger, he could handle – at least it proved she cared enough to be angry. But her silence might mean she was indifferent and simply didn’t care whether he lived or died... something he couldn’t even bear to think about.

Well, he’d soon have his answer. He grabbed his overnight bag before disembarking and following a man in a high-vis vest toward a waiting helicopter.

Twisting in his seat, Peter checked his watch. The helicopter ride felt longer than the plane journey, but every mile he put between himself and the airport was a mile closer to Evie and the possible implosion of his life.

Pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, Evie shuddered against the early evening breeze skipping off the incoming tide. It held a deceptive chill, and she dug her toes deeper into the warm sand.

Clutching her phone in her hand, she pressed the hash key to play the next voicemail. She’d lost track of which number it was, maybe twenty-seven? Or was it twenty-eight?

“Hi.” Peter’s voice came through the speaker. “I’m beginning to wonder if this nightmare will ever end. Today’s been a tough one, Shari’s been...” He let out a long sigh, and her heart ached for him. “You know what? I don’t even want to think about it. I wish I was there with you, just holding you in my arms. I miss you so much.”

The message ended, and she moved to the next one.

“Sleep tight, beautiful.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered in reply, running her fingertips lightly along her lower lids before moving on to the next message.

Evie held the phone to her ear, straining to hear him. But it was a bad line and there was a lot of background noise. “I’ll never forgive her for this,” she just about made out, before his voice became lost against the background racket. “Who does that?” he managed before fading out again. “Never was a baby,” Peter said, his voice cracking with emotion.

It was her undoing. She didn’t want to hear any more, couldn’t bear to listen to the pain in his voice. Tossing her phone onto the sand, she hugged her knees into her chest and sobbed uncontrollably as she rocked back and forth, wishing she could take him in her arms and take away his pain.

She’d been such a fool, wasted so much time.

If only she hadn’t been so bull-headed in her determination to prove to everyone that she could make it on her own, that she didn’t need help from anyone, then maybe Jaxon wouldn’t have been denied a relationship with his father for all those years.

If only she hadn’t been so stubborn.

If only.

Just two small words, yet they wielded so much power.

With the sun plotting its weary journey home across an evening sky wrapped in swaths of violet, pink and honeyed amber, Evie realised that the heaving sobs that had wracked her body had relented, giving way to occasional snivels. The breeze skimming over her skin had become cold and the evening devoid of any warmth.

Evie got to her feet and was headed for home when the whirring sound of a helicopter somewhere in the distance caught her attention. Gripped with an icy fear, she imagined some helpless souls trapped somewhere out there, on the rocks maybe, possibly injured. But as the noise grew louder and the beams of light larger, her eyes become fixed on the metal bird as it hovered nearby, a few feet above the ground.

Expecting to see a couple of paramedics or members of the local rescue team jump out, she prayed they’d reach the casualty in time. Mother Nature could be cruel and uncompromising – living so close to the sea had taught her that. Her stomach lurched as she watched, rooted to the spot. Her frazzled nerves were at breaking point, her emotions raw as she waited.

The passenger door opened, and she held her breath, but only one figure disembarked. Evie struggled to focus through the puffy slits her eyes had become. They were sore and tired, but she could have sworn there was something familiar about the solitary figure standing still while the helicopter climbed back into the sky.

With the helicopter safely away, the figure moved toward her, slowly and with a little lopsided gait. She’d recognise that limp anywhere.

“Peter,” she whispered breathlessly. It was Peter. He’d come home.

Once Peter was sure that the sandstorm whipped up by the helicopter’s blades had died down, he opened his eyes and scanned the beach to get his bearings. It was quite late, and the light was fading, but he could make out a figure marching toward him, their arms swinging by their sides – whoever it was, it looked like they meant business. For a second, he worried that maybe the pilot hadn’t received the proper permission to land on the beach, but as they got closer, he realised it was Evie.

Taking a deep breath, he braced himself as she neared, waiting for the angry rebuke he deserved. Well, here goes nothing. His mind raced to recall some of the things he’d written down on the plane.

Her pace quickened and seconds later she was in front of him, her breath heavy and her fists clenched at her sides.

“Evie,” he began. “I... Ooph.” He gasped, staggering backwards as Evie threw herself into his arms.

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