The Secret Art of Forgiveness Read online

  ‘What? No. You can’t do that. I can fight my own battles. Really, you shouldn’t have…’ An airport reunion was hardly appropriate either. ‘Look, I’ll call you once I’m home and showered. Okay?’

  ‘Sure. If that’s what you want. Whatever happens I want you to know I love you, Em. I’m still here for you.’ Why, oh why, did cell phones make people’s voices so loud?

  Jacob’s hand had stopped stroking. He levered himself up and out of bed. Heavy footsteps crossed the floor, a scuffle with clothes. The door closed with a thud. She couldn’t bear to watch. Couldn’t find words for him or for Brett. There was nothing she could say; nothing would physically squeeze out of her closed-up throat.

  Caught between two worlds.

  ‘Emily? What was that noise? Is there someone else there? With you?’

  Her hand fisted, nails pressing into her palm making the emotional pain physical.

  This was the end.

  There was outright lying and there was fudging. And then there was honesty. ‘Not any more, but yes. There was.’

  ‘There was someone in your bed? With you?’

  ‘Yes, Brett.’

  The silence she’d come to know with long-distance conversations stretched thick and loud. Then, an emotionless voice. ‘Don’t bother coming back.’

  The dial tone hummed relentlessly in her ear. There. The end. And she hadn’t even been able to be kind. She’d told him in the most heartless of ways. There was no coming back from this.

  ‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’

  She lay back against her pillows. This was the worst kind of end for them all. She’d let Brett believe, let Jacob hope, when she should have distanced herself from them both.

  She’d been so elated last night; she’d achieved one thing. One thing out of everything she’d tried to do. But now every thread of her life was unravelling.

  She didn’t know whether to call Brett back or let him calm down. To chase after Jacob or to let him stew. If indeed, that was what he was doing. Jacob had known this was more than complicated. They’d both ignored that as they’d lain here into the night sharing confidences and kisses. Both had known that saying goodbye would be hard.

  She didn’t want to leave with this bad feeling. She needed to talk to him.

  But he beat her to it, sounding agitated as he burst through the door, his T-shirt still missing and his jeans slung on his hips. ‘Emily? Emily?’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Jacob –’

  ‘Not now. I mean, I know. I know. We’ll talk later, I promise. There’s something…’ Instead of being disappointed or angry his voice was soft and kind. He took hold of her shoulders and knelt in front of her, and there was something in his eyes that flashed pure concern rather than hurt, and her heart started to compress. Whatever he was going to say, she didn’t want to hear it. ‘This is probably nothing to worry about, but I can’t find Judge Evans.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  ‘This is all my fault. All my fault. What if he’s hurt, or…’ She wasn’t going to say the words as she pulled one wellington boot on. He was missing. He was gone. She felt sick. All her romantic complications paled into nothing compared to this.

  ‘Stop that, Emily. Just stop it, okay?’ Jacob held her hand to steady her as she slipped her foot into the other boot. ‘We’ll find him. You’ve got your phone, yes?’

  She held it up, realising it wasn’t just her hand that was shaking, but her whole body. They’d searched The Hall, but no luck. What if he was dead? What if he was hurting and confused? She couldn’t bear the thought.

  ‘You stupid girl.’ It was Tam, throwing the kitchen door open and storming in. All the anger of the last twenty years was squished into her features. ‘You stupid, bloody selfish little cow.’

  Emily felt as if all the pressure of the last few weeks was finally bursting open in her head. Her gut. Her heart. She’d tried, so hard, to make things work. To fix her life, to fix everyone. And she’d failed. Miserably. Failed, and at what cost? ‘I’m sorry. I really am. We’ve looked everywhere. I just don’t know… I don’t know where he is.’

  Tam looked at Em’s mussed-up hair, squinted at her features, took in Jacob’s hand on her shoulder. ‘Too busy to give him a thought, were you? Too busy to lock the bloody door?’

  Shame shimmied through Emily. Shame and hurt and guilt. Tam was right. Phoning to tell her sisters that their father was missing had been bad enough, but admitting she couldn’t remember locking the front door last night was the worst conversation she’d ever had.

  So, yes. It was her fault. She should have been concentrating on her father’s safety rather than hopping into bed with Jacob. Should have put The Judge’s needs first instead of being the selfish, stupid woman she was.

  Her eyes were swollen and stinging from crying, her face blotchy and she could feel tears welling again. But more crying wouldn’t find The Judge, any more than standing here wasting time would. She hadn’t cried in the last twelve years as much as she’d cried here.

  But it was Jacob who, when he should have been walking away from her, tightened his hold on her arm. ‘Throwing blame around isn’t helping. We have to keep looking. Come on, Emily.’

  ‘What about me? What about me?’ Tam said the words out loud that she’d been silently saying these last few weeks. It occurred to Emily that her stepsister had been afraid of being left behind, of being diminished by Emily’s arrival all over again instead of wanting to make things better. ‘What am I supposed to do? Just stay here and wait? Just stand by and watch you ruin everything again. Oh, wait… you just did. He’s confused and ill and you preferred to…’ She closed her eyes as if the thought of having sex with Jacob disgusted her. ‘I don’t know why I thought you’d changed. I almost did. I even tried to like you. You stupid, stupid woman, you’re just the same as ever.’

  Jacob raised his hand. ‘This isn’t getting the job done. The longer we stand around arguing, the longer he’s lost. Someone needs to stay here to call everyone when he’s found. Someone needs to be relied upon to give information to the police. Can you do that, Tamara?’

  In the face of being asked to be reliable, Tam nodded. She picked up the tea towel from the table and twisted it tight in her hands. ‘Yes. Yes, I’ll stay. It’s what I do. Right? I stay. Go and find him.’

  There was a hole in Emily’s chest that would never be filled if she had lost her stepfather. But she felt almost paralysed by dread. Her feet refused to move for fear of what they’d find. ‘Tam… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’

  Her sister whirled round and she glared. Hard. ‘You should be.’

  But there was nothing Tam could say that could make her feel any worse. Em turned to Jacob, her heart bumping a little. ‘You don’t have to come with me, you know. It’s okay. I’ll go looking on my own.’

  He tilted her chin up so she could see him and in front of Tam said, ‘When will you learn that you’re not alone, Emily? I am here. I will help you look, for as long as it takes. And I will be there when you find him. And I’ll be there afterwards for as long as you need me.’

  ‘I see. Thank you.’ It didn’t seem anything like an adequate response. After hearing this morning’s phone call, she’d expected him to hotfoot back to his house, but he’d stayed by her side. She wanted to grip his jacket and haul herself to him, but she couldn’t. They needed to get out there and start searching. Grabbing a coat, she flung open the kitchen door. ‘Come on.’

  ‘Where do you want to start looking?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ She was scanning their land, the woods, ditches, brambles, streams… ‘Where do you usually find him?’

  ‘On the road into the village. But I called Greta and she said there was no sign of him.’

  ‘Well, it won’t hurt to look there.’

  ‘We need to have a plan –’ Hesitating, he looked over her shoulder down the driveway, his eyes widening.

  ‘What is it?’ Turning to look, she could hardly believe what she was seeing. ‘Oh.’
/>
  ‘Here’s the cavalry.’

  Dr Shepherd, his receptionist and Angela, the practice nurse; Liam and his staff from the pub, plus the pub regulars; Greta and all of her family; Sally – hand in hand with Liam; Sally’s father and a couple of his workmen; Tom and a crowd of others were hurrying towards them. There was a faint whiff of hangover among them, a sluggishness to their steps, hair not brushed, clothes hurriedly slung on. Black rings round eyes where make-up hadn’t quite been removed. Sleep lines on cheeks.

  Still, it was only seven-thirty; many had had little time for any sleep at all.

  Sally rushed forward and enveloped her in a warm hug. ‘Oh, sweetheart. We’ll find him. We will.’

  Em clasped her friend’s hand. She’d asked so much of them over the last few weeks, pushing them to accept her, then to listen to her and follow her lead. And now, when she needed them the most, they were still here, putting aside their own lives to help her in hers.

  If she hadn’t felt so desperate about The Judge she’d have given them all a hug in turn. This was a special group of people. Her heart was aching. ‘Thank you for coming.’

  ‘You’re joking, right? That’s what friends are for.’ There were tears glistening in Sally’s eyes. ‘Great last day, huh?’

  Jacob interrupted. ‘Right. I’ll organise people into groups and allocate search areas based on what we know about his wanderings.’

  ‘Hurry. Please. I want to get going. I can’t stand here doing nothing any longer.’ Her feet were itching to move, her leg jigging up and down of its own accord. ‘How about I go and you catch me up?’

  His eyes fired. ‘No. I don’t want you out there on your own.’

  ‘In case…? You think he’s…?’ Her hand shot to her mouth. She would not believe he was dead. She would not lose another parent. She just wouldn’t. And not this one. Not this curmudgeonly old man who she loved very much. That could not happen.

  ‘Stay there.’ Jacob pointed to a wooden bench. ‘I will be two minutes. Then we can go. Okay?’

  But she’d already begun to race down the driveway, calling, ‘Eric? Judge? Eric? Are you there, Dad? Dad! Daddy!’

  ***

  It was well past the time she should have left for the airport and he was still nowhere to be found.

  ‘The police have the dogs up at Duxbury Hall.’ Jacob flicked his phone into his pocket and joined her on the bridge over the stream that sliced through the village. ‘If there’s anywhere we’ve missed, they’ll find him.’

  ‘I’m at a loss. I don’t know where to look now.’ Emily felt numb. Empty. ‘What if we never find him? What if he’s lost for ever? You read about these things, right? He’s lost and it’s all down to me. I shouldn’t be here. I should never have come back. He’d be safe then, tucked up in the library, not allowed out. Maybe I gave him a sense of freedom. Maybe –’

  Jacob held her until she stopped shaking. ‘He was happy, Emily. You gave him that. You know you did.’

  ‘At what cost? I’ve just screwed up everyone’s life. I’ve pissed my stepsisters off, again. And with good reason. I’ve probably killed The Judge. I should have stayed away and let them keep hating me instead of getting myself all involved. It hurts, Jacob.’ There were ugly sobs coming from her throat as she realised the absolute scale of her failure. ‘My job’s in jeopardy. My whole life in New York is just… blown. It hurts here, in my chest and in my head. I tried so hard to make everything better. I tried so bloody hard to make everything work for everyone. But underneath it all I’m still just that stupid, lost, selfish little girl who can’t do anything right. Tam is right; I should never have come back.’

  The numbness was turning into a spectacular loss of control and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was falling apart in front of him. She’d never done that, not once in twelve years, never allowed anyone to see her at her worst.

  He wrapped an arm round her and hugged her to his chest. ‘No one hates you.’

  ‘My family do. They’ve always hated me. I tried so hard to get them to like me when I was little. I watched them playing together and wanted so desperately for them to ask me to join in, but they never did. I was always the outsider. Always the butt of their jokes. So I started to hate myself, too. When I left, I turned myself into someone else, someone I could actually like, someone they could like. And I think they might have started to like me. Just a little bit.’

  ‘Of course they did. Who wouldn’t like you?’

  ‘Right now, everyone in the village. Again.’

  She could feel him tense. ‘Now you’re just feeling sorry for yourself. That’s not helping anyone. Certainly not me. Definitely not you. Stop it.’

  It was the first time he’d ever snapped at her. ‘Sorry. Tam says I’m a drama queen.’

  ‘You are.’ His gaze softened. ‘But I don’t care, so long as you pull your head in every now and then.’ He was a plain speaker, this man. ‘I had no idea you felt like that. You wear it so well. You’re an amazing, confident woman.’

  ‘With a gut like jelly.’ She’d stopped sobbing now and was just doing the little hiccuppy thing. ‘No one wants to hear a sob story.’ But it felt just a little bit better to have got it out. There was something about Jacob that made her want to tell him all her secrets, and she knew he would always hold them safe.

  It wasn’t helping them find The Judge, though.

  Jacob gave her a squeeze, made sure she was now back in control, then let go of her. ‘It doesn’t seem to matter how much I try to keep my distance, Emily, I can’t. Even though I know I’m on a hiding to nothing.’

  ‘I’m sorry about the call earlier.’ She tore up a weed and threw it into the water, watched as it swirled away under the bridge on a current. A very poor attempt at Pooh sticks on a very bad day. She thought about her mother. Would she be proud right now?

  She doubted it, very much. Things had gone wrong in every part of her life and every single thing was her fault. It was better for them all if she left again.

  He nodded. ‘You’re going back to New York after this.’

  ‘I have a job there. A life. At least, I have a fight on my hands. But you know me; I’ll work damned hard to get it all back.’

  ‘And Brett? You’re going to fight for him, too?’

  All the jumbled jigsaw pieces of her life had started to fit together for her. She knew what she had to do. ‘I think I liked the idea of being in love with him. He is pretty perfect. For someone else. I know that now. I couldn’t have had last night with you if I loved him.’ The way I do you.

  It was a shock to realise that she was falling in love with Jacob Taylor. But hardly a surprise. How could she not love such a man? But she was in love with him here in Little Duxbury. Her life was in New York.

  And her stepfather was lost. This was all tearing at her already completely shattered heart.

  There was no perfect answer. No way she could see that would fix all of this. So falling in love with Jacob had been spectacularly stupid. Her cheeks blazed and her stomach knotted. She was letting go of Brett and saying goodbye to Jacob, because how else would she be able to live? She couldn’t have half of her heart here and half of it in New York. ‘But I do have to go back.’

  ‘I see.’ Jacob let go of her.

  ‘You always knew about my job. My life.’

  ‘I know. Like I said, I just can’t keep away. Glutton for punishment.’ He dredged up a smile and was just about to say something more when his phone rang. He snatched it out of his pocket. ‘Yes? Officer?’

  He turned away from her a little so she couldn’t see his face.

  All the little pieces of her heart started beating at different times. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I see.’ He sounded serious. Did he? Was he serious? Sad? Worried? Relieved? ‘Okay. Bye.’

  ‘The police, right? What? Oh, my God. What?’

  When he turned round, she couldn’t read his face. ‘They’ve found him.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her legs
finally giving way, she grabbed on to the wall. ‘Is he…?’

  But Jacob was tugging her upright. ‘I’m not sure of the details, but we’ve got to go.’

  ***

  It was well past take-off time by the time they were reunited with The Judge up at The Hall. They were all in the kitchen nursing cups of tea – Sally, Tamara, Matilda, Emily and Jacob – silently praying, silently hoping, when the doorbell rang.

  There was a scramble to answer it, but Emily nudged out first, grateful to be out of Tamara’s I told you so glare. She flung the door wide-open and he was standing there on the steps in his navy-blue pyjamas and saggy old dressing gown. His hair was as dishevelled and misshapen as ever and he needed a shave, but otherwise he looked unharmed. But, she knew, the damage was in his head not his body. He stretched his long, thin fingers to her face and traced them down her cheek. There was nothing but love in his eyes. ‘Monica? Monica. Hello, dear. What on earth’s the matter?’

  No. Not Monica.

  Emily. You knew it once. For one beautiful moment you knew me.

  Her throat was raw at the sight of him, her cheeks wet where his fingers stroked. Trying not to startle him with too many hugs she gave him a gentle squeeze, once again breathing in his fatherly smell. They’d had such a precious chance and she’d almost blown it. She was angry, too, angry now at the disease that had made him like this, angry that she couldn’t make him better, that he would only get worse. Angry that the closer she got to him, the harder it was to accept that his life was wasting, that he would never remember any of this. Or her. Not properly. He would only ever hark back to those difficult times, or before… And in time she wouldn’t even exist to him at all. Ever.

  It made everything seem so much more frail, ethereal, drifting out of reach, these moments of connection all the more precious. This was the most important thing, not work or the festival. This. Him. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him again.

  And she knew then how people could do this; how they could put their own dreams on hold and live a different life. How people could willingly juggle three generations’ needs, sometimes four. How they could face devastating illness and loss and survive it, because they knew that what had come before was worth every piece of shattered heart.