Breathe You In (16 page)

He caught my face in his hands, closed his eyes
and kissed me. He tasted of mint, I was sure I did, too, but there was so much
more in our connection. Trust, compassion, understanding, and what was the most
thrilling of all, a future.

*
* * * *

“Wow, look at you!” Felicity exclaimed when I
arrived at her parents’ house. “You look bloody great, Katie.”

“Thanks.” I grinned and fiddled with the hem of
my short, metallic blue dress and glanced around the small living room packed
full of glamorous girls. “Did you all know there’s a white limo waiting
outside?” I asked.

Felicity’s eyes widened. “No, is there?” She dashed
to the window, pulled back a net curtain and squealed. “Ah, there is, he’s done
it. I thought he was joking, but there actually
is
a limousine to take us to the club.”

“God bless Neil Vickers,” Melanie said, raising
a glass of champagne into the air.

A whirlwind of activity followed, seven girls,
all of whom I knew, gathering handbags and wraps. Then there was a great
commotion of heels trapping across the wooden floor and into the hallway.

Felicity was last down the garden path. Her dress
was shocking pink and barely covered the gusset of her knickers. She wore a
veil that floated out behind her. On it someone, probably Melanie, had pinned
condoms and tiny L plates. She also had a smile on her face that could light up
any dark room. Felicity had been in love with Neil for years, and finally she
was about to get her man. Good for her.

We settled in the limousine. Sparkling wine flowed,
and a
beaty
track started up as we pulled away from
the curb.

“Seriously, you do look well,” Felicity said,
giving my knee a squeeze.

“I feel well, Northampton suits me.” I smiled, a
genuine one, the first these girls had seen me produce in a long time.

“It certainly does,” Melanie said, touching my
arm. “You have a glow about you.”

I shrugged and sipped my drink.

“And you have a sparkle in your eye,” Felicity
said, studying me. She suddenly clasped her hand over her mouth, and her carefully
plucked eyebrows stretched up into her forehead. “Have you?” she asked quietly.

I looked between her and Melanie, my two closest
friends. “What do you mean?”

“Have you met someone?” Melanie asked.

“A bloke?” Felicity said.

“Yes.” I nodded, hesitant but thrilled to be
saying it.

There was a flurry of hugs between the three of
us.

“Give us details,” Felicity said.

“No, it’s your night. You don’t want to hear
about me.”

She grasped my hand. “Nothing would make me
happier tonight than to know things are starting to fall into place for you,
Katie.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “They are, really
falling into place.”

“What’s his name?” Melanie asked.

“Ruben, Ruben Strong.”

“Oh, and is he?” Felicity nudged me and then
flexed her arms Popeye style.

I giggled. “Well, he works for me.”

Melanie clinked her glass against mine then,
“And how did you meet?”

These words had been rehearsed, and if I said
them often enough I, too, would believe they were true. “I was wandering around
the museum, you know, getting to know the place, and we got chatting.”

“What, just started talking?”

“No, well, actually he saved me from a mad
peacock that was trying to mug me.”

“Wow, strong and brave.” Felicity giggled.

“And kind and sweet and genuine and…” There were
so many lovely words to describe Ruben. I could go on all night.

“I really am happy for you, Katie,” Melanie
said. “The new start, the move, well, we were sad to see you go so suddenly and
we miss you terribly, but to see you with a real smile, that makes it all worth
it.”

“Sure does,” Felicity said. “And you absolutely
must bring him to the wedding. I won’t hear otherwise.”

“Well, I’m not sure.” Heck, was I ready to
inflict this lot on Ruben? And could I stand amongst the friends that had only
ever seen me with Matt and hold the hand of another man?

“You said it yourself,” Felicity said, “he works
for you, and in that case, he’ll work for us too. I’ll set him a place on the
table plan.”

“If you’re sure.” I worried at my bottom lip.

“As sure as I am of marrying Neil Vickers, that
handsome, sexy devil.” She kicked her legs in the air. “
Whoohoo
,
soon I’m going to Mrs. Vickers and honeymooning in Spain. I’m going to have sex
for breakfast, sex for lunch and sex for dinner and I can’t wait, I’m
starving!”

I laughed along with everyone else. Her
excitement about the future was infectious and there was a sudden lightness in
her voice, an extra trill to her tone. I got the feeling she was more
comfortable expressing her joy, knowing that I had some joy in my life too.

A true friend indeed.

*
* * * *

It was gone noon by the time I’d left Melanie
house the day after the hen party. We’d spent the morning nursing our hangovers
with a big fried breakfast and endless cups of tea. We’d had lots to talk
about, not least Ruben and Northampton. She was impressed that I’d met Dean
Cudditch
and confessed a secret crush.

After hugs and promises to stay in touch between
now and the wedding, I’d headed to Matt’s parents’ house, a route I could do in
my sleep.

I spent a couple of hours with them. Drank more
tea and ate three freshly baked
Eccles
cakes. There
was lots of talk of Matt, memories, happy ones mainly. It was soothing. It made
me feel like I wasn’t the only one who missed him so terribly.

I knew his parents had been to the deepest,
blackest pits of Hell too. But we’d gone our separate ways in grief. Them
losing their child, despite him being an adult, was a bereavement that was
profoundly different but no less intense than mine, and I hadn’t felt we could
offer each other much at a time neither of us had anything to give.

However, despite the ghost of Matt in the
house—numerous school photographs, our wedding picture, his West Ham
signed football on a stand in the hallway—they were well and had bought
flowers for Matt’s grave. They asked me to go with them to the cemetery, but I declined,
wanting to give them their space. I’d go next time I was up, I promised, because
right now one place was drawing me stronger than anywhere else.

I stood now, beneath the arch of roses in St.
Paul’s churchyard. Morning congregation was long since over and there was no
one around, just me and my memories.

The small pink flowers were in full bloom, and I
let their powdery, perfumed scent fill my nose, closed my eyes and remembered another
time and place. I smiled. For a second I was back there, Matt holding me,
kissing me, saying those words—till death do us part—and then
kissing me.

I hadn’t believed anyone had ever loved another
person as much as I’d loved Matt right then. He had been my every breath, my
dreams, my future, the one person who understood me. Our souls had been bound
together by an invisible thread. From the moment I’d seen him across a busy
pub, I’d known he was special. He’d said the same about me, and we’d always
believed fate had been leading us up to that point in our lives. Ensuring
circumstances had caused us to meet.

Opening my eyes, I blinked in the light of day
and stroked my finger over the petals of one of the roses. If I hadn’t moved to
a flat I would have planted more like this. They were my favorite. The baby
pinkness of them so delicate and fragile, just like everything in life. Nothing
was certain. It was good to remember that.

The church loomed before me. The tall bell tower
stood silent and still, the sun beating down on its ancient stones. Sifting
through recollections of our wedding day, I could still hear the wild clanking
of the bells as we’d walked back down the aisle, my arm linked with his, a
smile on my face so wide it hurt my cheeks. They’d carried on ringing, the
bells, while we’d had our pictures taken, but by the time we’d come back here,
away from our guests for this private photograph, they’d stopped. Much like now,
there’d been only the chatter of birds, the buzz of a bee and the rumble of a
distant road.

I held up my left hand, looked at my bare ring
finger—the dent had practically gone—and let the tears that were
welling fall. They were allowed to. Today I was so sad, so heartbroken. I had
to acknowledge that, live through it, because if I didn’t it would eat me alive.
My grief, as I’d discovered, was like a tumor. It kept on growing, stagnating,
filling me up from the inside out. Pulling me between nausea and hopelessness.

But I’d found the cure. The cure was hope, a
future, a new life. The cure was remembering Matt for the wonderful man and
husband he had been and allowing myself to be happy again, or at least strive
for that.

I wiped at the tears and sniffed. “I love you,”
I whispered to the roses above me. “Always, no matter what or who else I have
in my life, I will always love you, Matt.”

Northampton was cast in shadows. A dull gray
Monday that had brought drizzle to the park around the museum and thankfully
sent the peacock searching for shelter—although that didn’t stop me
warily looking at the darkness beneath the enormous, leaf-heavy oak trees, or
glancing nervously in the direction of the aviary.

I wandered in through the open door of Ruben’s
workplace, the quiet stillness once again wrapping around me. This time the
reception area didn’t send my nerves skittering; instead, it sent them jumping
up and down with excitement, happy anticipation. I was looking forward to
seeing Ruben. My morning had dragged as I’d counted the hours until we’d be
together. The thought of lunch with him, having a look around the museum with
him, hearing his voice, seeing his smile, had been like a crane lifting that
damn weight out of my belly. It was a relief to see it go, to feel a lightness
that allowed me to breathe.

The same lady as before sat at the leaflet-cluttered
desk. Today she had on a navy fleece, and her name badge—Ethel—was
pinned upside down. I smiled and walked up to the desk, decided not to tell
her, it added to the charm of the place.

“Hello again,” she said, shutting the thin
paperback she was reading. “Have you come to see the rest of the museum?”

I was surprised she remembered me and smiled.
“Yes, I…
er
…Ruben said he’d show me around.”

She nodded seriously, the small red bead
earrings she wore swinging in time with her movements. “I’m sure he did, a
pretty girl like you.”

I clasped my hands in front of me, glanced up
the stairs. I’d hoped he’d be hanging about, waiting.

She smiled, and her face softened. “He told me
to expect you. Go straight up the stairs, through the Saints room and then push
through the door that says Staff Only. His office is at the end, you’ll see
it.”

“Okay, thanks.” I touched my hair, hoping the
breeze hadn’t messed it up too much.

The museum was silent as I went up a level and
walked through the first room. It was dedicated to the cobbling industry
Northampton had been famous for. Old leather shoes in various states of
disrepair were displayed in glass cabinets. None of them anything I’d want to
wear.

The next room was exactly what Ethel had
described. But not saints of the holy variety, this was the Saints rugby team,
Northampton’s pride and joy, and by the looks of the trophies and accolades,
well worth that pride.

I spotted the Staff Only door and pushed though
it, feeling a smile already growing. The short corridor was empty, the walls a
dull green, the carpet a faded orange. The door at the very end was ajar.

“Ruben?” I called, stepping toward it.

No answer.

I pushed it open. “Hey, there you are,” I said.

He sat behind a dark wooden desk, a tired smile
on his face, his arms folded in front of him.

“Shit, what’s wrong?”

“Not feeling so great today.”

“No kidding, you look bloody terrible.” I
dropped my bag on a straight-backed chair and rushed around the desk.

He straightened, as though stiff and aching, and
swung his seat so he was facing me. His eyes were sunken, and he had mauve
crescents beneath them. The rest of his face was pale and sallow.

I dropped to my knees, rested my hands on his
legs. “You need to see a doctor.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s probably just a cold.”

“It’s never just a cold for someone who’s got a
new heart, Ruben.”

He shrugged, just a little.

“Seriously, I’m no medic but even I know you
need to see someone.” I reached up, touched his cheek. He was cool, and I
didn’t like it at all. “Have you got a specialist doctor you can ring?”