Never Forget You, page 33
BEN STOOD AT the back of Invergarrig’s one and only art gallery, a softly fizzing glass of champagne in his hand. Only last year this space had been yet another of the town’s gift shops, stuffed to the rafters with tartan, shortbread, and ‘Nessie’ soft toys, but now it housed paintings, pottery and various crafts by artists from all over western Scotland. And tonight was the first night of an exhibition by a local photographer – him.
Both Norina and Alice … Lili … had talked to him about not turning his back on something he loved, and he’d taken it to heart. He’d thought it was travel that brought him alive, the rush of the adventure, but now he realised it wasn’t the trains and buses and hotels that had brought him excitement. Doing it with Lili had been the adventure, doing it with someone he cared about.
All he’d ever really been doing all those years he’d skipped around the globe was running away. Cat had accused him of that and she’d been right all along. He’d let his father drive him from his home, and guilt about Cat had kept him running. But Lili had shown him what it was like to be brave, to run towards one’s life, even if you weren’t sure what the future held. And so he’d dug his camera out of the bottom of his wardrobe and had started taking pictures of his hometown, of the surrounding mountains and glens.
The best of his efforts, both recent and over his years of travel, were now proudly displayed on the bare white walls of the gallery. In pride of place was a large print of a young woman in a ruined church. Ben walked towards it, his heart heavy. He’d dithered about including the photo of Lili in the exhibition, but it had been one of his best. He’d avoided looking at it properly while they’d been setting up, but now he made himself stand right in front of it and study every play of the light, every shape and angle.
It transported him back to the moment it was taken. His memories of that day were so vivid that he could almost feel the humid July air on his skin, hear the soft trickle of the fountain nearby. And Lili … It was almost as if he could feel her in the room with him.
‘Nice photo,’ someone said behind him. A woman’s voice.
Ben stopped breathing.
He turned and found the subject of the photo standing no more than a couple of feet from him. ‘You’re … You’re here.’
She laughed and nodded again. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘And you remember me?’
‘I remember meeting you in London, spending a wonderful time together before we said goodbye, but those are the last and only memories I have of you.’ She stared at him for a moment, eyes full of regret. ‘Sorry, Ben. I don’t remember travelling from here to London and beyond. That’s all still lost.’
‘But … What …? How …?’
‘Why am I here?’ she finished for him, then looked around. ‘It’s quite crowded in here. Is there somewhere else we can talk? You look like you could do with some fresh air.’
He nodded and led her through the crowd to the back of the gallery and stepped into the passageway, but it was dingy and damp there, so he kept going towards the loch, to the railings outside his cottages. Not many people used this as a shortcut.
‘The first reason I’m here is that I needed to see you to say thank you for everything you did to get me home again. I … became aware … that you were having this exhibition, that you’d be here on opening night, and I thought it was the perfect opportunity.’
He could still hardly believe she was standing there. ‘You didn’t have to come five hundred miles to say thank you. You could have done it over the phone.’
‘I know.’ She smiled that smile at him again, the one that made him think of loosely packed snowballs, ruined castles, their two foreheads pressing together as they sheltered from falling flakes of ice. ‘But I wanted to do more than that. I wanted to see if you’d like to go out to dinner with me … Or stay in. I didn’t know it last time I saw you, but I’m a shockingly good cook.’ She raised her eyebrows, waiting for his answer.
All her words were making sense to him – he could understand them on a linguistic level – but at the same time, he had absolutely no idea what was going on. ‘You want to go on a date with me?’
Her head bobbed up and down and she started to look a little less confident. ‘Yes … If you want to?’
The rush of emotion he felt almost propelled him towards her, but he held back. ‘I do. More than anything. But what is this – just a dinner and then goodbye again?’ As tempting as it was, he wasn’t sure he could handle that.
‘I have no idea.’
‘But you live in London,’ he said. ‘And I live here. How on earth is this going to work?’
She shrugged and looked helplessly at him, then let out a soft laugh. ‘To be honest, Ben. I have no idea what I’m doing here. I have absolutely no idea how all of this can work. But I do know one thing …’ She stepped closer and took hold of one of his hands. ‘I don’t want to be the pathetic, timid creature I was before I came here last time. I don’t want to be hiding, too scared to live in case I make another mistake. I want to be the version of myself I saw in those videos when I was with you. Do you think we could get to know each other? Again?’
He brought his other hand to wrap around hers, as he looked down at her, held it tightly. ‘I can’t think of anything I want more.’
And then she rose onto her tiptoes, and pressed her lips against his, just the way she had before they’d been separated at the castle. His arms came around her and he drew her close, deepening the kiss the way he’d wanted to but had never had the chance. This time there was nothing to stop them. No phantom groom, no burly security guard.
It was only when they broke apart again he spotted two spectators at his bedroom window. Norina smiled and Willow was making him fervent ‘thumbs up’ signs, which only made him snort, and then Lili turned around and spotted them as well.
‘Sorry,’ she said, looking a little guilty. ‘I needed help with travel and a place to stay, so I might have roped them in and sworn them to secrecy.’ She blew Willow a kiss, which Willow caught and slapped onto her own cheek before pretending to faint, which only made them both laugh again. Giving him a wink, Norina closed the blind and their audience was gone.
She reached for the delicate silver chain around her neck and pulled her bee pendant free from under the neck of her chunky-knit jumper. ‘This has been my lucky charm for years, even when I didn’t realise it was.’ She gave him a lop-sided smile. ‘I mean, I know we’re about five hundred miles away from where we’d originally planned to meet, and well over five years late, but I suppose you could say it worked.’
‘I suppose you could.’
She sighed. ‘I wish I could remember the time I spent here and travelling with you. It bugs me that I can’t. I mean, I’ve seen the pictures, watched the videos, but it’s not the same.’
‘No,’ he said, brushing the hair from her face and taking in every last detail, imprinting this moment on his own memory so firmly it would never be lost. ‘But maybe it doesn’t matter, because we can make new ones. Together.’
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, I would like to thank my family for their support in my career, unpredictable and wonderful as it is – especially my aunt Norina. She was always one of my biggest cheerleaders and as I started to pull the ideas for Never Forget You together, I knew I wanted to set it in a fictional version of her home – Inveraray – and when I needed to flesh out Ben’s family, I thought I’d give him an aunt who ran a Bed and Breakfast, just as mine did. At this point, I decided to ask my one-of-a-kind aunt if I could base a character on her, because I thought she’d get a kick out of it. However, we were never able to have that conversation, as she fell ill and passed away shortly afterwards. After a lot of thought, I went forward with naming my character ‘Norina’ in her memory. Ben’s aunt in the book is not completely the same as my cheerful, resourceful, no-nonsense aunt, but certainly shares a lot of her qualities and quirks. I hope my Norina would think of it as a fun and fitting legacy.
I would also like to thank the people who helped me dig in and do some of the mountain of research needed to write this book – any mistakes are mine and certainly not down to the wisdom and knowledge of those I interviewed! Many thanks to Vincent Greene, who chatted at length with me of his experiences of being a professional violinist and experiences of music college. I am also very grateful to Nick Heinimann, travel photographer extraordinaire, for talking to me extensively about his career. Check out @roamwithnick on Instagram if you’d like to see some of the shots that inspired Ben’s portfolio of work in the book. I would also like to thank Mid Argyll police, especially Community Sergeant Iain MacNicol, for answering my queries about how a missing persons investigation might be handled in their area, and for the very lovely Dr Carol Cooper for filling in the gaps of how a community hospital might handle a very unusual case of amnesia!
As always, I give massive thanks (along with cheering and much flag waving) to the amazing team of people around me who help me take my idea and bring it both to life and onto the bookshop shelves. To Amanda Preston, my agent, for your unfaltering positivity and enthusiasm, and your wisdom and experience. To the team at HQ, who are passionate and knowledgeable, I am so very pleased to be one of your authors. To my editors for this book, Katie Seaman and Emily Kitchin, thank you for helping me take my fledgling idea and polishing and shaping it into something so much more than I ever thought it could be. I am also in awe of the brilliance of the HQ marketing and PR teams, especially Joe Thomas. Thank you so much for all you do to get my books out into the world and into the hands of readers who will love them.
Last but definitely not least, I’d like to thank the friends who’ve been my support system as I wrote this book in a very trying time, both globally and personally. Thank you to my fellow authors who understand the ups and downs of this life like no one else – Susan Wilson, Heidi Rice, Daisy Cummins, Iona Grey and Sheila McClure. I needed the laughs, pep talks and hugs (virtual and actual) you gave more than you realise. I’d also like to thank Phil and Caroline Allen for being such a wonderfully warm, wise and grounding presence in my life in the last year, refreshing the spiritual side of me when I felt that well was dry and reminding me why I do all of this in the first place. Which leads me to my final thank you – to the One who gives me strength, love and inspiration, day to day. I know I could not do this without You.
If you have been affected by these issues, help and support is available from the below services across the UK. If you are in need of immediate assistance, please contact the emergency services.
•Refuge (England)
•The Domestic and Sexual Abuse Helpline (Northern Ireland)
•Domestic Abuse and Forced Marriage Helpline (Scotland)
•Live Fear Free (Wales)
•Men’s Advice Line (UK-wide)
For countries outside the UK, an international directory of sexual and domestic violence agencies is available here.
Loved Never Forget You? Don’t miss another emotional and heart-warming romance from Fiona Lucas, available now
Anna’s world was shattered three years ago when her husband Spencer was killed in a tragic accident. Her friends and family think it’s time she moved on, but how can she when she’s lost her soulmate?
On New Year’s Eve, Anna calls Spencer’s old phone just to hear his voicemail greeting. But to her surprise someone picks up. Brody answers and is the first person who truly understands what Anna is going through. As they begin to speak regularly, Anna finds herself opening up and slowly she discovers how to smile again, how to laugh, even how to hope.
But Brody hasn’t been entirely honest with Anna. Will his secret threaten everything, just as it seems she might find the courage to love again?
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Chapter One
ANNA WAS LYING in bed with the duvet pulled up over her head. A thing not so unusual in itself, except for the fact it was half past seven on a Thursday evening, and she was fully dressed, bar her shoes. Somewhere in the distance, her doorbell was ringing. She was doing her best to ignore it.
She’d climbed into bed about half an hour ago, and she had no intention of getting out again that evening. Maybe not ever. It was nice in her cocoon. White. Calm. The world had been too bright today, too noisy. Just too flipping cheerful. But this was a lovely solution. She should have come up with it sooner.
The letterbox clattered. ‘Anna?’
Anna stared hard at the cotton duvet cover and began to count the individual threads above her nose. Maybe she should consider some sort of soundproofing?
The voice came again, louder. ‘Hey, there! I’m here. Open the door!’
Deep breathing… That was supposed to be good for keeping calm, wasn’t it? Anna decided to try it; she wanted so badly to hang on to this velvety, white numbness. The only problem was that it had been a very long time since Anna had been able to take a deep breath. Two years, nine months and eight days, to be exact.
Had it truly been that long? It still felt like yesterday.
She rolled over onto her side and curled into a ball, squeezing her eyes shut.
The voice called through the letterbox again, but it no longer sounded bright and happy. More irritated. Maybe even a little desperate. Anna blew out a shaky breath. Her bubble of calm was in a precarious state now. Cracks were appearing. She tried to pretend these intrusive noises were happening on a different plane, in a different reality. At least, she did until the voice became softer, more pleading.
‘Anna? Minha querida? Are you okay?’
Anna covered her face with her hands and let out a sound that was half-growl, half-sigh, then forced her legs out of her duck-down nest and found the floor with her feet. The rest of her followed a second later and then she walked mechanically out of her bedroom and down the stairs into the hall.
‘Thank goodness for that!’ her best friend said when Anna opened the front door. ‘I was worried you’d fallen down the stairs or slipped in the bath!’ Gabriela’s tone was cheery as she stepped into the hallway, but there was a tightness to the accompanying laughter and there were questions in her eyes. Anna knew Gabi wasn’t going to ask them, but she heard them anyway. You are okay, aren’t you? Or do I need to be properly worried?
Everyone Anna knew had questions in their eyes these days when they spoke to her. Often, the same questions. But they were afraid of saying the wrong thing. Or not saying the right thing. Anna lived in a minefield of eggshells.
Gabi thrust a cake tin into Anna’s hands. ‘I was missing my mother’s carrot cake, but I made far too much.’
‘Thank you,’ Anna said, receiving the tin and hugging it into herself. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’ Her friend’s bright-orange Brazilian version of the cake, slathered in chocolate sauce, was amazing.
Gabi’s eyes held a mixture of worry and hope. ‘Will you?’
This was more than cake. Gabi had always moaned that her curves were a result of her mother equating loving people with feeding them, but it seemed she was more like her mother than she realized.
Anna nodded awkwardly. ‘Of course.’ And then she went and placed the cake tin in the kitchen, out of sight, hoping it would curb any further discussion.
She appreciated that her friends and family cared about her, but she was sick of being watched, of every word that left her mouth, of every gesture, being judged and weighed and measured so they could compare notes, so they could encourage each other with the tiny pieces of evidence they collected that she was finally ‘getting over it’.
When Anna returned to the hall, Gabi squinted at her. ‘What have you done to your hair?’
Anna reached up and discovered that her shoulder-length brown hair was all fluffed up at the back. She smoothed it down with her hand, trying not to make it obvious. She didn’t dare glance in the mirror by the front door. She hadn’t left the house since Christmas Day, and she feared she’d see someone scruffy and pasty-looking. In comparison, Gabi looked immaculate. Her hair fell in dark, silky spirals around her shoulders and the cobalt-blue dress she wore complemented her warmer skin tone perfectly.
‘You are ready for the party, aren’t you?’ Gabi’s gaze travelled downwards to the crumpled little black dress Anna was wearing and to her stockinged feet. ‘It’s only a few hours until we will all shout “Happy New Year” and I don’t want to be late!’
Happy New Year …
Oh, how Anna would like to do a little bit of surgery on that phrase. The first word should be chopped off and discarded, for a start. However, ‘new year’ was a fact. Nothing she could do about that. Time was going to march on whether she wanted it to or not, but ‘happy’ just seemed ridiculous, maybe even a little insulting.
A rush of emotion hit her, engulfing her so completely that she briefly considered sprinting up the stairs and diving back under her duvet. She turned to Gabi, ready to make her excuses, but the look in her friend’s eyes silenced her. Although she was clearly perplexed at Anna’s dishevelled state and more than a little concerned, there was something else shimmering under the surface, a look Anna recognized.
‘There’s someone you like at this party, isn’t there?’ she asked, because that sparkle behind Gabi’s eyes only ever appeared when romance was on the cards.
Gabi blinked at her innocently. ‘No.’
Hmm. Anna wasn’t so sure she believed that.
‘Don’t look at me that way,’ Gabi added, frowning. ‘After Joel, I’m done with men, remember?’
Anna nodded slightly. ‘I do remember you telling me that.’ Whether it lasted remained to be seen. Right at that second, Anna would have bet twenty quid on her friend’s lips being locked onto someone else’s come midnight.
But Anna couldn’t begrudge her that. The break-up with Joel had been almost five years ago. To be honest, Anna hadn’t been sad to see the back of him – he hadn’t appreciated Gabi nearly enough – but Gabi hadn’t seen it that way and she’d been broken-hearted. Since then, there had been a handful of short-lived relationships. Gabi liked guys who were confident, but more often than not, ‘confident’ turned out to be ‘cocky and self-absorbed’. Not qualities that lent themselves to a mature, long-lasting partnership.
