The Wish Page 11

  ‘To save the day – be the hero in Holly’s eyes like he always is?’ Chrissie let out a long, shuddery sigh.

  ‘You know that’s not what I’m saying, but maybe he has felt like he isn’t good enough for a reason?’

  ‘Hang on, are you saying that it’s my fault he stayed away?’ Chrissie looked accusingly at her, as if tensely primed for any sign of betrayal.

  ‘Hey, hold your horses! I never said anything of the sort … but …’ Jude gulped down a mouthful of the Prosecco, instantly wishing she’d been more tactful. She really didn’t want to upset Chrissie.

  ‘But what?’

  ‘Look, you’re a hard taskmaster, not ever really trusting anyone to know what is right for Holly except yourself. And I get that. You’re her mum. But it’s OK to share it, let go a bit more and ask for help. Sam’s here, let him in. Let him help.’ Jude figured it best to come out with it. If there was to be any kind of reconciliation between the two people she cared about and loved very much, then they both needed to reflect. Chrissie could be very stubborn and controlling. And Jude knew there were valid reasons for this, given her upbringing, but she couldn’t just stand by and see Chrissie and Sam’s marriage break beyond repair.

  ‘Someone has to be in charge, Jude. Tonight shows I can’t trust Sam … oh, I know Holly is up to something – I’m not daft. But she knew Sam was supposed to wait with her until I got home. He could have called. He could have checked what the arrangements were at least, to show he’s thinking things through.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Jude pondered, picking up a few Twiglets. ‘Holly always could run rings around him …’ Silence hung in the air. ‘Oh, Chrissie,’ Jude then added, stroking her friend’s arm again. ‘It’s not too late … He’s come back now, and that has to mean something. Sam isn’t a nasty, thoughtless guy. I’m sure he didn’t deliberately set out to not call you to check on the arrangements. Or to hurt you by being away for so long; to destroy your marriage … you know that—’

  ‘Maybe,’ Chrissie cut in, ‘maybe not.’ And they both stared straight ahead at the screen on the monitor. Holly looked as if she was asleep now, the book still open on top of the duvet.

  Jude inhaled, at a loss as to what to say for the best. She knew Chrissie inside out, they had grown up together, and one thing she did know about her friend was that she always went into bunker mentality when she was scared. It was as if she was so entrenched in keeping it all together, for her and Holly, being in control, that she had lost sight of everything else. Chrissie had spoken a lot over the years to Jude about how she didn’t ever want to be like her own mother. Unreliable and erratic on account of her alcohol dependency. And, given the strain Chrissie was under, it seemed to Jude that Chrissie’s determination to be different, a better mum than her own one had been, coupled with the breakdown of her marriage and Holly’s illness, had turned her into an exaggerated version of herself. But then, she’d been coping on her own – without her husband, or indeed her best friend, to help her put things into perspective – so it was little wonder that her need for control and order, so lacking in her own childhood, had now magnified.

  Jude suddenly felt helpless too, at a complete loss as to what to do for the best for her friend. And figuring that life could be just so rubbish sometimes.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Chrissie, standing up. ‘That’s enough about me. I’m going to check on Holly and then I want to hear all about Tindledale’s famous new resident, Myles King, before you leave this evening …’

  *

  In the Duck & Puddle, Sam pressed to end the call on his mobile, and then picked up his pint glass, intending to finish his beer before the pub landlady, Cher, rang the Last Orders bell. But he didn’t fancy it now. His heart sank. It was late, and Chrissie had just called saying she was going to bed but needed to get something off her chest first. He had managed to upset her again, the exact opposite of what he’d been trying to achieve. And he could hardly have said that Holly had told him she was allowed to be at home alone … No, that would have just got her into trouble, and potentially damaged his relationship with her, too, as she was bound to blame him for ‘grassing her up’, or whatever the correct terminology was these days for a thirteen year old to use. But thank God she was OK. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for not listening to his instincts and calling Chrissie to agree the arrangements for their daughter – that was what the distance between them all had done; made him doubt himself. Anyway, he certainly wouldn’t make the mistake again of leaving her at home alone.

  He puffed out a long breath and shoved his phone into his jeans pocket. So much for the upbeat feeling he’d had less than half an hour ago. And what did she mean about flowers? What flowers? He hadn’t sent her flowers. Sam took a moment to try to figure it all out in his head, but all he could come up with was … if he hadn’t sent her flowers, then who had? Perhaps he’d been right the first time. There was another man. Must be. And Chrissie must have been seeing him for a while. Pink lilies were her favourite flowers, and that isn’t something a bloke would know after just one or two dates. No way, surely not?

  Sam pushed the pint glass away, stood up, and went to leave the warmth of the village pub’s log fire, which was crackling and flickering away in the inglenook fireplace as the inclement weather had gone for a chillier feel today. He’d just reached the door when his friend Matt, the village farrier, walked in with his wife, April. Sam hadn’t met April before, not having been able to make it to their wedding last summer. The date had clashed with the grand opening of a new waterfront hotel in the exclusive Sentosa Cove district of Singapore, and there was no way his boss would have entertained the idea of him not being there to shake the hands of the wealthy Chinese investors in person. Sam had also missed the celebration party after the birth of Matt and April’s baby … a gorgeous little girl they named Winnie in memory of April’s great aunt who disappeared during the Second World War.

  ‘Sam, good to see you, mate. April, this is my old pal, Sam. Sam, this is my gorgeous wife, April.’ Matt did the introductions with a massive grin on his face. ‘So, you’re back in the village now, I hear?’ and Matt gave him a handshake followed by a hearty man-hug, once Sam and April had said hello to each other.

  ‘Yep, that’s right,’ Sam said, trying to muster some enthusiasm on seeing one of his oldest friends. But he felt dejected, useless, mixed with a twinge of self-loathing that he’d not made more of an effort to make damn sure he had attended Matt and April’s wedding. Instead, he’d been so anxious to get the recognition, the public accolade of designing such a ‘wondrous palace’ – as the Chinese investors had called it. And they had been so pleased … Sam had to wonder why that had been so important to him. More important than being here for his mate.

  ‘What is it?’ Matt looked at him, concern etched on his face. Then he turned to April and added, ‘Would you mind giving us a minute, my love?’

  ‘Sure,’ April smiled and made her way over to a table where her friend, Molly, Cooper’s wife, was waving to her.

  ‘So what’s up?’ Matt asked. Sam opened his mouth. Hesitated. Closed it. He could hardly offload all his baggage onto Matt. No, not when they had hardly seen each other over the last few years. Plus, he wasn’t good at talking about stuff like this.

  ‘Sorry, mate. Good to see you. But I … um … need to go. Another time, yeah?’ And with his head bowed, Sam ducked out of the pub, keen to get away and calm down. The scratchiness in his throat was back with a vengeance now, too, making his tonsils feel as if they were being wrapped, and then squeezed, in sandpaper, and in his heart he began to wonder if coming back to Tindledale had been the right thing to do after all. It seemed Chrissie and Holly had been doing very well without him around … they didn’t need him any more, and Holly was quite happy having a virtual relationship. Maybe she was better off without him in any case … he’d put her at risk by leaving her home alone. Chrissie knew how to keep her safe, which was more than he seemed capable of doing. Perhaps he s
hould do them all a favour and try to move on, especially as it seemed that Chrissie had already done just that.

  ‘Hold on, mate.’ Sam felt Matt’s hand on his shoulder as he went to put the key in the door of the Land Rover. He turned around. ‘What’s the rush? Surely you’ve got time for a quick catch-up?’

  ‘You don’t want to hear it. Trust me—’ Sam started.

  ‘Try me.’ Matt stared him right in the eye. They’d been friends for years and Sam knew that Matt could be a persistent bugger when he wanted to be.

  ‘I dunno. Just got a load on my mind.’ Sam shrugged, feeling cornered.

  ‘Like what?’ Matt wasn’t giving up, so Sam pushed his keys back into his jeans pocket and leant against the car instead.

  ‘Just stuff. Family stuff.’ Sam looked down and kicked a piece of gravel away.

  ‘Is it Holly? Is she all right?’ Matt asked, standing alongside Sam now with his hands in his pockets.

  ‘I’m worried about the diabetes. It’s getting worse. We have to keep an eye on her, the doctor said.’

  ‘Sorry, mate.’ Matt shook his head. ‘It’s tough when they aren’t well.’

  ‘Yeah. It is. But it’s more than that. I’ve messed up, Matt. Really messed up …’ Sam’s voice drifted.

  ‘What do you mean, messed up? Is there someone else?’ Matt gave him a sideways look.

  ‘No, nothing like that. I haven’t had an affair. I wouldn’t do that. But I stayed away for far too long. Took Chrissie for granted …’

  A silence hung in the air as the two men gathered their thoughts.

  ‘So is that why you’re back?’ It was Matt who spoke first.

  ‘Yeah. I’ve come home to sort out my marriage …’ Sam stared into the starry night sky, stretching out across the pub car park and over the duck pond on the village green as he contemplated. This was his home … everything he loved was here. People. The place. Tindledale really was idyllic, with the cobbled High Street and tiny Tudor shops. He loved the familiarity of it all. The place where he had grown up. Fallen in love with Chrissie. Holly was born here. So why had he stayed away for so long?

  ‘I see,’ Matt cut into the reverie. ‘But that’s good though … that you’re back now. Can’t imagine it’s easy keeping all the relationship stuff going when you’re thousands of miles away.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ Sam muttered. ‘But I’m making a mess of it even now I’m back.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I left Holly on her own when I dropped her home tonight and she had an accident. Chrissie went into one. Blamed me. Said she can’t trust me. I should have known that Holly mustn’t be left on her own with the diabetes the way it is—’

  ‘And I bet Holly told you it was perfectly all right,’ Matt cut in, smiling and shaking his head. ‘That Chrissie leaves her on her own all the time.’

  ‘How did you guess?’ Sam turned to look at his mate.

  ‘Been there, done that, and got the T-shirt, Sam. I know all the tricks, remember.’

  ‘Ahh, yes.’ Sam nodded, remembering Matt had been a single dad to his daughter Bella before he met and married April. ‘Of course you do. The other thing is, Holly and Chrissie are at loggerheads all the time. They’ve always had a fiery relationship, but I hadn’t realised how bad it had got. The other night Holly was shouting that she hated Chrissie …’

  ‘Yep. Sounds about right.’ Matt moved forward to stand squarely in front of him. ‘Typical teenage stuff, Sam. I wouldn’t get too hung up over that.’

  ‘Do you reckon? I blame myself. If I hadn’t gone away. Left it so long to come back—’

  ‘Holly would still be yelling at her mum,’ Matt interjected. ‘Trust me. Bella used to shout at me all the time. Reckoned she hated me a million times a day. It’s just teenagers. They all do it. Give her a few more years to get through the tricky stage and she’ll be a lovely young woman. Guarantee it.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Sam nodded, mulling it all over. ‘How is Bella by the way?’

  ‘She’s good, Sam. Really great. She’s doing a textiles course at the college in Market Briar. Loves it. She’s turned out OK … even if I do say so myself.’

  ‘Nice one,’ Sam put his hand out to Matt. ‘And thanks for the chat, mate.’

  ‘Any time. You know where to find me,’ Matt replied, shaking Sam’s hand. ‘And good luck, Sam. I really hope you and Chrissie sort it out. You were always good together …’

  Chapter Ten

  ‘So you’re back in Tindledale then, are you?’ Sam should have known that his mother, Linda, would carry on like this. ‘I bet you’re the talking point of the whole village now your marriage has fallen apart … There’s nothing they like better than a bit of scandal.’ She sounded positively gleeful. Sam felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristling with irritation.

  After leaving the Duck & Puddle pub last night, and then having a stern word with himself – sitting up till the early hours watching boxsets on Netflix with a bottle of brandy – he had tried to figure it all out, mulling over Matt’s words of wisdom and trying to work out what to do for the best. At one point he even wondered if he was having some kind of breakdown, a mid-life crisis perhaps, as it seemed he couldn’t even trust his own decision-making capabilities these days, given the massive error of judgement he’d made when dropping Holly home. So he had literally stood up and stared in the mirror that hung on Dolly’s sitting-room wall above the fireplace and asked himself the question … what matters most to you, Samuel Anthony Morgan?

  Family.

  That was his answer.

  Chrissie and Holly. He wasn’t going to lose either of them. He needed to prove that he had the commitment that Chrissie needed so that she would seriously consider giving their marriage another go. Which reminded him … at his lowest point last night, he had wondered again if she was seeing someone else. And if she really was, then who could the other man be? It couldn’t be someone in the village, surely not … Tindledale was a very small place, incestuously so at times, where everyone knew everyone, had grown up together, and most often families were related in some way, so he was bound to have heard something; Matt or one of his mates would have told him in the pub. Sam ran through all the possibilities, like a Rolodex of potential suitors, in his head, but unless the man was a newcomer, someone he didn’t know, then he had no idea who he might be. All the men in Tindledale were either too young for Chrissie to give them a second glance, were happily hooked up, or gay. But whichever way he sliced it up, the state of his marriage was destroying him. It was all well and good for him to come home now with the best of intentions, but he knew deep down it was going to take more than that to fix everything. But it was a start, at least.

  Sam had eventually managed to get hold of his mum, Linda, on the mobile number that he had called last time. Which was a novelty given that, the time before that, he’d had to call his brother Patrick in Australia first to see if he had up-to-date contact details for her when he got the ‘number you are calling is no longer available’ message. So, having tracked his mother down and gone through the polite customary catch-up questions, Linda had then spent the first twenty minutes of the phone call complaining about the food, the heat, the foreigners … which was quite ironic given that she was on a day tour in Istanbul. So, technically, she was the foreigner at that particular stop on the three-week cruise she had treated herself to after retiring just a few months ago, as she had informed him. Sam used the word ‘retired’ loosely, given that she hadn’t actually had a proper, paid job since the late Eighties, when she had been a dental nurse for a while at the practice in Market Briar. But after deciding that she didn’t really like other people’s mouths, Linda had packed the job in and become a full-time lady of leisure. That is, until she had met Nigel, the first of many men who seemed perfectly happy to finance her luxurious lifestyle whilst flitting around the Mediterranean in between pit-stops at her flat somewhere in London.

  Sam was never quite sure where she lived exactly
now, not having once been invited to visit her, ever; well, certainly not since she had left Tindledale. It was as if she had left the village and not looked back since, practically cutting all ties with her previous life and those that should have played a significant part. In fact, Sam was quite sure that, if he just stopped calling his mother, it would be very likely indeed that he’d never speak to her again. He held the thought momentarily … and then for some bizarre reason he wondered if that would be such a bad thing. But she was still his mother and, to be honest, it hurt him that she behaved in this way. He’d tried so many times to see her, to forge a ‘normal’ relationship with her, but whenever he suggested visiting for a birthday or Christmas she’d invariably respond with a terse, ‘Whatever for?’ followed by, ‘The shop will post on little Holly’s present’, which would then arrive a few days later directly from Harrods or John Lewis with the innocuous, but quite obligatory, typed gift message.

  Sam checked his watch; twenty-three minutes now they had been engaged in the call and Linda still hadn’t drawn breath.

  ‘Mum!’ He could bear it no longer. ‘Look. This is important. I’ve been trying to tell you about Holly, how she’s getting on …’

  ‘And I’m telling you my news, it’s not your turn yet.’ And she actually laughed.

  ‘Mum, this is not funny,’ he attempted. Jesus, was she trollied? Sam realised then that she probably was, and pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at it as she cackled some more. Well, it would explain her attitude. She always got like this when she’d had too much to drink. But it was only ten a.m. in Istanbul. And wasn’t Turkey one of those countries where alcohol was restricted? And she was sitting outside a café, she had told him so. He shook his head and tried again.