Do You Remember? (20 page)

He heard her come in. Despite being the tidiest person he knew she always kicked off her trainers and left them while she made coffee. She jumped when she saw him sat on the stool at the island in the kitchen.

‘Guy, you make me jump. What are you doing?’ she asked, her hand at her chest.

It took a few seconds to pass before she registered the suitcase.

‘Are you finally taking that to be burnt somewhere?’ she asked, smiling.

He shook his head, getting down from the stool to stand in front of her. He could see the realisation was just starting to slowly sink in.

‘What is going on?’ Madeleine asked.

‘I have to go,’ Guy spoke. He took her hands in his.

‘What do you mean you have to go?’

‘It isn’t working.’

He didn’t know what to say. The truth was she had done nothing wrong. She just wasn’t the person he wanted to be with. She had never been right,
they
had never been right. And that was his fault rather than hers.

Her bottom lip quivered. Her perfect kohl-lined eyes were wide and moist. He had counted on anger and shouting. He hadn’t considered there would be emotion like this.

‘There’s someone else,’ Madeleine stated.

‘No.’ The reply was instinctive.

‘Liar. There must be someone else. We have the perfect life. You have a new team, this house…’

‘You can have the house. I will see to it.’

‘I don’t want the house. I would like an explanation.’

What could he say? She wouldn’t want the real explanation. She would never understand it and she wouldn’t accept it.

‘I need space. Some time. All this is new. Moving here, the team, it’s different…’

‘So this is just temporary?’ A glimmer of hope crossed her face.

‘
Non
.’ It was all he could manage.

A single tear traced a path down her cheek and then the defence kicked in.

‘This is because of the lingerie isn’t it?’

‘What?’

‘You do not want me to make something for myself. You think the attention should be with you. You need to make good impression with this team. You think I will take away that focus.’

What did he say to that? Was it better to have her believe this? It was perhaps easier? Before he realised it he was nodding his head.

‘You want me to give it up?’ Madeleine asked him.

He hadn’t expected that. Was she serious? Would she give up something so important if she believed it would save their relationship? Had he made the wrong choice choosing that scenario as a get-out? That would teach him to lie.

‘No,’ he responded.

‘Then what? Tell me how to stop this, Guy. Why would you leave if there is no one else and it is not the lingerie?’

He struggled to take a breath, Keith’s face flooding his mind. He was the curse. He was the weight he wore around his neck. He was the reason everything in his life went sour. But he could never say. Remembering was one thing, speaking it out loud was impossible. The nightmares, the palpitations he still got sometimes, the memories – they tainted everything.

‘I have to go. I’m sorry.’ He picked up the suitcase and walked for the door.

‘No! No, you do not do this to me! You cannot do this to me! Guy! I won’t be left! Guy!’

The voice became a scream and he couldn’t look back. His body tensed as he opened the door, escaping, needing to feel air. He closed it behind him, hearing Madeleine’s broken sobs as their relationship evaporated. It was finished.

His cell phone ringing brought him out of his thoughts. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and took the phone out.

‘You haven’t told the little fella yet I take it,’ Marilyn said.

Having muddled their way through a delicious roast lamb lunch, Mike and Dominic were back out in the garden while Emma and Marilyn cleared away.

‘I don’t know how to. He adores Chris. He’ll be so upset,’ Emma admitted.

‘Not his decision though is it? You’ve put that child first forever; you can’t make love choices for him. It has to be right. Otherwise you’re unhappy and he’ll be unhappy and no one will be happy,’ Marilyn said. She filled the washing-up bowl with water.

‘There’s someone else.’

Why was she sharing this information with Marilyn? Marilyn had been the enemy for so long, now it was if she was her closest confidante. Maybe it was because she wasn’t as close as Ally. Perhaps she was hoping Marilyn wouldn’t judge so readily.

‘I thought there might be,’ Marilyn responded softly.

‘Why?’ Emma was taken aback.

‘Because of what I just said. If it wasn’t something serious you would have stayed with Chris for Dominic’s sake.’ Marilyn smiled.

Emma toyed with the tea-towel in her hands, thinking about what happened next. What
did
happen next?

‘So, this other chap. What’s he like? Where did you meet?’

Marilyn’s tone was upbeat and she winked. It wasn’t altogether appropriate for Emma’s mood but it was entirely different to the reaction she had got from Ally. This could be a good thing. It might be the best thing that had happened in her life. Despite how they were getting there it was a happy event, wasn’t it?

Before she opened her mouth to speak she knew her face was glowing, radiating everything she felt for Guy.

‘We met in France, eight years ago, when Dad took my camping after…well you know…but things didn’t work out and there was Dominic and…he plays football.’

Marilyn smiled, encouraging her to carry on.

‘Things happen for a reason, don’t they? Sometimes things don’t go right the first time and you’re given a second chance,’ Emma spoke.

Marilyn nodded. Emma saw the woman’s eyes were filling up with tears.

‘God, just like you and Dad,’ Emma whispered, noticing the similarity.

‘Everyone deserves a second chance, darlin’. And we all make mistakes. It’s how you deal with them that counts,’ Marilyn assured. She reached out and patted Emma’s arm.

‘Thank you for giving me a second chance,’ Emma said, swallowing as she met Marilyn’s gaze.

‘Ah, get away! You might not be saying that after you’ve had pudding. It’s a new recipe and I’m not sure it’s turned out a hundred percent right,’ she said, laughing.

September 2005

The rain was hissing. Lines, streaks, harder and faster, falling from the sky, hitting the corn and soil of the fields. Emma’s eyes were closed, her ears alert to the sound, her mind in revolution as she moved naked, astride Guy on the straw-covered floor of the barn.

She loved to watch him watching her, see his expression as she ground herself against him, moving slowly at first, then deeper and harder. Starting off as a conscientious virgin, he had taught her how to appreciate herself, be unafraid of taking off her clothes, to trust him. And now they were engaged.

She put her hand against his shoulder and as she pushed into him and heard him moan, she looked at the ring on her finger. The man beneath her was going to be her husband. That knowledge flicked a switch inside her every time she thought about it. Now it made the stimulation even more intense, adding emotion to the physical pull. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge of something she still didn’t quite understand, something she had no control over.

‘Emma…stop…
mon Dieu!
’

He reached for her, pulling her down onto his chest as his release came quick. It flooded her with warmth and she squeezed into him wanting to fall. The noise that left her lips as the orgasm rode over her sounded primal. She ached and hurt but it was so sweet and it filled every inch of her.

He shuddered beneath her, his hands in her hair, holding her head to his shoulder.

‘Promise me it will always be like this.’ Her words were nothing more than a whisper.

‘I promise,’ he responded.

This was what she really wanted. School, a career, money, they were all important but love, real love, this feeling she got when they were together, that was everything. She was an intelligent girl, she wouldn’t throw her plans away for the sake of a summer romance but…this was different. Guy was different. He had made a commitment to her and he meant it. She had no doubts.

She kissed his lips, slow and drowsily and shifted from him, reaching for her dress.

‘I bought a drink,’ she said. Pulling her dress down over her body she reached for the carrier bag she’d abandoned on one of the hay bales.

‘Merlot?’ he asked, grinning.

‘
Non, monsieur
, Orangina.’ She held the soft drink aloft like a prize.

He shook his head, smiling at her as he pulled on his shorts.

She brought the bottle over to him as he reached for his backpack and began to take papers from it.

‘What’s that?’ she asked.

‘Some information. I get from the internet,’ he responded, smoothing out the pages. ‘And maps.’

They had three more days. Her dad had already started making them eat the packet and tinned food up. She still didn’t know how she was going to manage it. She couldn’t just go without telling him. He’d called out security just because she was late back the other night. What would he do if she actually went missing? But telling him she wasn’t coming home with him wasn’t going to work either. There was no way he would let that happen and what father would?

‘There is a bar looking for staff and a supermarket. I could work day time and evening. We will find a place to live, whatever we can afford,’ he said, showing Emma the print outs.

‘I don’t have any money…Dad…’ she began.

‘It is OK. I have some money and soon, before we go, I will have more,’ Guy answered. He reached for her hand then and squeezed it in his.

‘Will you get a trial at the football club? What happens? Do you telephone them or something?’ She opened the bottle of fizzy drink.

‘They have a time. It is next month. That will give me time to get a job and when we have more money we will find a place for Luc to go so you can study,’ he continued.

There was so much hope and enthusiasm in his voice. She felt so lucky at that moment, so glad she was embarking on this new life with him.

‘I can get a job too. Maybe at a nursery and Luc could come there with me. I have an NVQ in Childcare and my first aid certificate,’ she informed.

‘NVQ?’ he queried.

‘It means I have a piece of paper that says I can do stuff.’

Guy smiled. He took her head in his hands and looked at her with those intense, green eyes as if she were the most desirable thing he’d ever seen.

‘Before you come I was so lost. Now I feel like I have chance,’ he whispered.

‘
We
have a chance,’ she told him, linking her hand with his.

He inched forward to kiss her when a cheery melody played by tubular bells rang out.

‘Is there someone here?’ Emma whispered, her eyes darting around the barn for evidence of company.

‘
Non
,’ Guy announced. He reached into the front pocket of his backpack and pulled the slim-line mobile phone from it. He pressed a button and put it to his ear.

‘
Oui?
’ He stood up and paced away from Emma, heading for the open door of the barn. The sound of the water hitting the roof drowned out her chance of overhearing the conversation. She didn’t know he had a mobile phone. Not that she had one they could communicate with. She had had one but she’d broken it in a rage after her mum had passed. Her dad had offered to get her another but apart from Ally there was no one she’d wanted to communicate with. Whoever was on the phone now, it wasn’t a good conversation. Guy was agitated. He was scuffing his bare feet on the ground, playing with the corrugated iron on the side of the barn, talking but far from sounding upbeat from what she could make out.

She was about to consider joining him, letting him know she was there, for solidarity, in case it was his mother, when he ended the call and turned back to her. For a moment she saw something like desperation in his eyes before he smiled and his face lit up again.

‘Who was it?’ she asked.

‘David…who we meet on the boat…for work,’ he added.

‘I didn’t know you had a phone,’ Emma remarked.

He shrugged. ‘It is new…for work.’

‘But you’re leaving.’

‘I know but…no one knows yet.’ He silenced her with a kiss and she put her arms around his neck and held him close.

‘You have to go don’t you?’ she guessed.

He nodded. ‘But I do this for us. You know that.’

Yes, she knew that. And in a few days they would be far away from here and they would spend every night together. It would be hard but they would manage because they had each other. If she’d said any of this to herself before she got here she would have laughed. A life-long romance found on holiday in France – the boy who taught football at the campsite – how cliché! But she knew this was real. She felt it every time he touched her. She believed in him…in them.

He held her hand. ‘I will walk you back.’

She picked up the fizzy drink and put it into the carrier bag while Guy put the papers and maps back into his backpack. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and stuffed his feet into his trainers.

Looking out of the barn she could see the rain had eased up and the sun was making a re-appearance behind the lightening clouds.

‘Ready?’ he asked her. She nodded and took hold of his free hand.

They emerged from the barn, ducking their heads as the now fat, slow-falling raindrops hit them.

‘When I am a famous footballer I will be able to give you and Luc everything. I will be like David Ginola. We will have the fast cars and the big house and we will eat out whenever we want,’ Guy told her.

‘Is that your dream? Fame and money?’ Emma asked, looking to him.

He didn’t answer straight away, seemed to ponder on it and consider what he was going to say. She had no desire to live her life in the spotlight.

‘
Non
. I just want to have enough. I want to give Luc…and my wife, everything I can. To make them feel…look after…loved.’

Emma brought his hand to her mouth and pressed her lips against the skin there. She held it, savouring the texture and scent.

‘Guy!’

As the voice called out she felt Guy tense. He pulled his hand away from her and looked to the woman down the lane.

‘It is my mother. You should go,’ he stated, moving away from her.

‘I think I’d like to meet her,’ Emma said, narrowing her lips and wondering how vile she could get away with being to this woman who had beaten her own son.

‘Please, Emma. You cannot. It is better this way. Please.’

He was begging her. He looked desperate. His eyes sad and sorrowful.

He didn’t wait for further reply. He took off in the direction of the woman clad in a short black dress and high-heeled shoes. She couldn’t have looked less like a mother if she’d tried.

Emma watched him all the way and as he reached the woman she clipped him across the head with her hand, shouting in French. Emma flinched, as if the blow had been inflicted on her. So much for there being nothing stronger than a mother’s love.