The One You Trust (3 page)

‘Looks like the storm’s approaching,’ Dan said, seeing where she was looking.

The thought made Emma shiver a little: thunder and lightning always unnerved her. One of her first memories of childhood was cowering under her bedcovers during a storm, wishing that the noise would stop. Her parents had come to the rescue, letting her sleep in their bed that night.

‘It’s up to you, of course, but I think you should go to the reunion,’ Dan said. ‘It might be a good way to move on.’

‘But aren’t reunions about looking back to the past?’

‘Maybe to deal with the past, you’ve got to face the past.’

Emma smiled. ‘Maybe you’re right. You think it might help stop the dream?’

Dan shrugged. ‘Who knows? I’m not a psychologist. But, at the very least, you should have a good time.’

‘And what if Charlotte Harris is there?’

Charlotte Harris, Stuart’s younger sister, had played a non-speaking part in the soap opera – Stuart had managed to get her the role of one of the children in the school that sometimes featured.

‘She probably won’t have got an invite. But if she is, then just try to ignore her.’

‘I guess.’ Emma certainly didn’t relish the idea of seeing her again. Not after what Charlotte had said to her at their last meeting, two months ago – blaming Emma for Stuart’s suicide and for the break-up of his relationship with Sally.

‘Don’t let Charlotte Harris stop you from going. If you really don’t want to go, then fair enough, but if it’s the thought of her being there that’s putting you off, then that’s different.’

‘You’re right. I will go.’ Emma nodded briskly, smiling at him. ‘And you’re right about needing to face up to the past in order to move on. I’m thinking of maybe going to see a counsellor. Maybe the colleague of Miranda’s that she recommended, the last time I was round with her and Dad. She said she’d see me on a more informal basis. What do you think?’

‘I think you should do whatever you feel you need to do. I’ll support you, whatever you decide.’

‘And you? Do you think you might benefit from counselling?’

Dan smiled. ‘I think I’ll be okay.’

The storm hit just as they finished their meal. They ran back to their room as the rain began to fall heavily and, within minutes, water was cascading down the guttering and pooling across the balcony. Emma and Dan watched from the comfort of their room as the sky flashed and thunder boomed.

The intense, powerful storm raged on throughout the night, and Emma didn’t sleep very well. But at least the dream didn’t return. And, by morning, all was calm.

Chapter 3

Will Holden and Katie left the cosy Italian restaurant in Soho after enjoying a wonderful Saturday lunch there. The December sun was shining, and all seemed perfect. They looked great together – Will in his smart Calvin Klein trousers and jacket, with royal blue shirt, and Katie in a lovely sequined black top and blue and black patterned skirt.

It was then that Katie asked him the question that marked the end of their brief relationship.

‘Are you thinking about somebody else?’

Will ran a hand through his thick dark hair, shocked at her perceptiveness. But perhaps it had been obvious? He had spent most of the meal daydreaming, worrying about how he should deal with the thoughts that just wouldn’t go away. It had been the same that morning, on a riverside walk. So, when challenged, there was no point in arguing.

He just nodded.

Katie smiled sweetly, kissed him goodbye on the cheek, and left. She crossed the road and disappeared from view without looking back.

And that was that.

Will stood there for a moment or so, collecting his thoughts. A young couple with whom they had shared the restaurant exited, holding hands as they moved away, laughing at a shared joke. He watched them walk to the end of the street and round the corner, then blew out his cheeks, his breath visible.

Katie was a lovely girl. Kind, intelligent, pretty. And they got on really well. They seemed to share opinions on the main things that mattered, and they made each other laugh. He should have been racing after her, telling her that the thing he was thinking about meant nothing compared to being with her. But, instead, he had let her walk out of his life without even a word.

He wandered around the streets of the West End for half an hour or so. By the end of his walk, he was sure. No matter how lovely Katie was, and how much they connected, there was a big problem.

He was still in love with someone else.

For almost the entire afternoon, Will Holden had been watching the girl from a safe distance, from the edge of Newington Green, a small park in Stoke Newington, north London.

He had been just down the street from her flat when he’d spotted her, making her way in the opposite direction. She had looked amazing – her blonde hair falling perfectly down the back of a long, red winter coat that reached down to her Ugg boots.

His first reaction had been to turn around and go back home – it had been a foolish decision to go there in the first place. But then he’d felt an uncontrollable urge to follow, to watch her, longing to be close enough to hear her voice.

My God, I’m behaving like a stalker.

He’d trailed her for a few minutes, hanging back as she’d entered the park in the middle of the square. It was there that she’d been joined by the man. A tall, ginger-haired guy wearing jeans and a bomber jacket, probably about Will’s age. They’d walked side by side along the footpath, as Will had watched from behind a bank of trees.

Surely she hasn’t found someone else so soon?

They weren’t holding hands, but they had looked close – maybe brushing against one another as they walked. Will had felt sick, and jealous, although he really had no right to be. The two of them had sat down on a bench, next to the deserted children’s play area, with their backs to Will.

He’d waited for them to kiss, or embrace, but they had just talked.

What the hell had he been doing there? If Emma ever found out, she’d be so angry.

Just after that West End walk, Will had headed for the tube. It was almost as if he’d been on autopilot, guided by his heart rather than his head. He’d known it was an incredibly stupid thing to do, and that it would probably only do damage, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. If he didn’t speak to her, and tell her how he felt . . . well, he knew that he’d regret it.

Surely Emma would understand that? And does she ever need to know?

The answer to the first question was maybe. The answer to the second was probably not. And, as much as Will didn’t want to keep secrets any more, if it was for the best, then so be it.

He had waited while the two of them continued to talk. Then, just as he was beginning to wonder how long they would stay, the couple had stood up and parted company.

Without an embrace.

Were they lovers?

Will had shaken the thought from his head. It really was none of his business.

He had resisted the temptation to approach her on the way back to her flat, deciding it would just look too weird. So he had waited until she got back home, and then held back for another five minutes before approaching the door to the ground-floor flat.

Remember not to call her Amy . . .

The name she had used to deceive him.

The door opened just a few seconds after Will knocked.

He knew that his presence would be a shock, given the circumstances of their parting, but he hadn’t quite expected the look of horror that flashed across Sally’s face.

‘Will! I . . .’

Will took a step back. ‘I’m sorry for coming out of the blue like this, but I just wanted to talk to you.’

Sally looked both pained and sad. ‘You shouldn’t have come. You really shouldn’t.’

Will nodded his understanding quickly, embarrassed. ‘I’ll go. As I said, I’m really sorry for turning up here like this.’ He turned and began to walk away, his stomach still lurching from the sight of her.

She looked radiant. Just as he had remembered.

‘Wait,’ he heard her say. ‘It should be me who’s apologising.’

Will stopped and turned around. ‘I didn’t come for that.’

‘Then why? Why have you come here, Will?’ Sally had stepped out onto the pavement and now stood, arms folded tightly across her chest, looking at him.

Will pinched the bridge of his nose as he searched for the words. ‘I came because . . . because I want to find out if the girl I thought I knew is really you.’

Sally nodded. She seemed to understand. ‘Let’s go and get a coffee. There’s a place just around the corner; it’s nice and quiet.’

‘I’m so sorry, Will, for what I did to you.’

They were seated towards the back of the café, as far away from the counter as they could get, out of earshot. They were the only ones in the place.

‘It’s okay.’ Will looked up from stirring his coffee. ‘I understand that you weren’t thinking straight. You were grieving for Stuart, I understand that. You were hurting, you were angry, you wanted revenge.’

Sally looked away and closed her eyes. ‘I can’t believe what I did. What I was planning to do. I am just so ashamed of what happened. So very ashamed. If there was a way I could make it up to you, then I would.’

‘You don’t need to.’

‘How can you mean that?’ she said. ‘I led you on for weeks, I lied about who I was, and I was planning to . . .’

‘But you didn’t go through with it. You didn’t do anything.’

‘No, I suppose not.’

‘Why
didn’t
you go through with it?’ Will had been desperate to ask this question ever since the revelations at the airfield. Why, after all that scheming, that thought, had she abandoned her plans – leaving him on the ground and getting into the plane without him?

Sally considered her answer. ‘Because I liked you. I know it sounds pathetic, but I did really get to like you, Will. And I just couldn’t do it. Especially after what you said to me when we were getting ready to board the plane for the jump. About how I’d changed your life for the better. I guess it just woke me up to the horror of what I was doing – how terribly, terribly horrific it all was.’ She looked at him. ‘Those weeks after Stuart’s death, well, they’re all a blur, really. I was in such a state, such a deep depression, that I don’t think I really knew what I was doing. It was like I was possessed.’ She looked down, embarrassed.

‘Were you still planning to kill yourself?’ Will asked. ‘If we hadn’t radioed through to the pilot to land the plane, were you still going to go through with it?’ Emma and the others had got to the airfield just in time to alert Will, who was waiting bewildered in the changing area, to what Sally was planning to do.

‘I was in a really bad place,’ Sally replied after a pause, not quite answering the question.

‘And now?’

Her smile seemed slightly forced. ‘Better. Much better. I feel like I’m coming out of the darkness.’

‘That’s good. Really good.’ Will watched Sally. She did look good; not like someone who was in the depths of depression. But then, how was he to really know the truth? She’d fooled him totally once before, and he had to assume that she could do so again.

They both took sips from their coffee, glancing over at the entrance as a mother and baby entered.

Sally broke the silence. ‘I’m still confused, Will, about why you’ve come to see me. You’ve got every right not to want to remember that I even exist.’

Will laughed, shaking his head at the thought. ‘Believe me, I’ve tried.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Maybe you’re right,’ Will said, struggling for words. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have come here.’

‘You said back at my flat that you wanted to know if the girl you thought you knew was really me. What do you mean?’

Again Will shook his head, ruing the feelings that he had tried but failed to suppress. ‘I . . . I fell in love with that girl . . . with Amy. I fell totally in love with her. She made me feel alive. I want to know, are you Amy?’

Will had thought this was going to be extremely difficult, but now he’d started, the words were coming freely; he felt emboldened. ‘Are you the girl that I fell in love with?’

Sally seemed taken aback. ‘I’m not Amy, Will.’

‘But how much of Amy was
you
?’

‘I’m not sure how to answer that.’

‘Her personality, character, her likes and dislikes, sense of humour, her attitude and outlook on life – live for the moment, challenge your fears. Is that you, or was it just an act?’

‘No, that’s me.’

‘Then it
is
you that I’m in love with.’ Will sat back in his chair and looked at her, wonderingly.

Sally shook her head. ‘You don’t mean that. You can’t be in love with me, Will.’

‘Do you really think I’d be here if I wasn’t?’

‘It doesn’t matter, anyway,’ she said. ‘After what’s happened.’

Will wasn’t giving up. ‘I’m okay with being friends, if that’s all you want. I’ll accept that. I promise I will never pressure you for anything more than you’re comfortable with.’