Vision In Love (Legends of The North Book 1) (7 page)

And there was her sister, who looked the picture of the dutiful grieving daughter clutching her dad's arm, white crisp handkerchief dabbing at her eyes. But then, Michelle had always had a flare for the dramatic.
 

Emma closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headrest, thinking that they weren't helpful thoughts. She felt Matt's hand cover hers.

"Are you ready to go in?"

She watched as her dad and sister went inside and nodded. If she snuck in, she wouldn't have to speak to anyone. Matt led her inside and she took the seat next to her sister, not letting go of Matt's hand. Her sister glanced her way then peered round her at Matt but didn't say a word as the service began. Most of the words washed over her as she tried to remember the good times. Moments of fun on holiday perhaps, times of laughter at home, but all she could remember were the everyday memories–not good, not bad, not even comforting, just memories. Memories of passing her dad in the doorway as she left for school and he came home from work, arguing with her mum about being old enough to wear make-up because all her friends were. Her mum shouting at her sister for coming home drunk. Okay, that one made her smile a little.

After the service had finished, everyone made their way back to her dad's place. Her sister paid far too much attention to Matt until her husband dragged her away on a food emergency. Good to see she never changed, even with age. She introduced her dad to Matt, but after a few awkward sentences, he drifted off across the room. It was quite sad how few people were there, just a couple neighbours, and some of her sister's friends. Her parents had lived in Stydon their whole lives, but had always kept to themselves. They didn't like other people very much, preferring their own company; they still weren't keen on her sister's husband, even after all the time they had been married. After a long and uncomfortable hour, people began to leave, and she went to find her dad. She found him in a corner of the garden, alone.

"Dad?" He turned at her voice. She really wished she had some words that could comfort him, but she had no idea what he was going through. Instead, she wrapped an arm around his waist and tried not to feel disappointed when he tensed. "People are leaving now, and Matt said he'd give me a lift home. I can come round tomorrow, if you want?"

"No, no. You've got work and things to get on with. I'll be fine."

She nodded, and the silence stretched between them. "Take care then, I'll see you soon."

She almost dragged Matt out of there, wanting to put the small distance from Stydon and Altenchester between her and the day's events. When Matt pulled the car up outside her house, she turned to face him. "Thank you for coming today. I know it can't have been fun for you."

"I doubt it was for you, either. I just wanted to help you if I could. Do you want me to come in?"

She shook her head. "No, thanks. I just want to be alone for a bit."

"Okay, but call me if you need anything."

She smiled and climbed out of the car. Slowly, she made her way up the garden path as the tears finally came.

It seemed the following day had got the message on Emma's mood, as the rain lashed against the windows from the slate sky. A rainy Sunday afternoon with too much time on her hands and too many thoughts in her head after the funeral. Emma pulled out her laptop and logged onto Facebook, realising it was time. As she clicked on her profile, her hand hovered over the mouse on the button to make the changes. It was more than just a status; it was like admitting she was sad and pathetic because she couldn't deal with the big, bad world out there.
 

Annoyed with herself, she slapped her finger down on the mouse button. Single. One word with a whole lot of heartache behind it. Might as well update the fact she had almost moved back home, unless the village down the road amounted to the same thing.
Oh well, guess I should make it three for three
, she thought as she clicked on her list of friends.
 

And there he was, Ben Murphy. All she had to do was click on his photo and she would know what he had been doing since she had left Cardiff, since she had last logged on. She moved the mouse back and forth before clicking on "friends" instead of his photo, unfriending him. It was better that way; she didn't want to see him. Especially not if he was with her.
Might as well unfriend her while I'm at it.
Her friends' number was starting to look a little sorry for itself.
 

Setting the laptop on the table, she went to make herself another coffee. As she waited for the kettle to boil, she thought about all the girls she had gone to school with, friends from Stydon. It was so easy to lose contact when you didn't live near each other, when you didn't see each other for years. Too easy to just not bother. She sat back down on the sofa with a huff and started typing in names. Surely, some of them had to be on Facebook.
 

After the first three names came back with nothing, she typed in the one she really wanted to find, Vicky Hudson. Nothing. Her shoulders dropped before she started typing again and there she was, Victoria Hudson. Emma smiled at the page and sent a friend request then sat back, feeling happier than she was when she switched the laptop on.

***

Emma had arranged to meet Vicky at the Altenchester Arms, because Stydon didn't have a pub and Friday nights were always busy. Sitting at the bar, she let the buzz of conversations surround her, let the group of posturing workmen standing by the door distract her. But she sat up straighter every time the door opened then slouched back down each time it wasn't Vicky. She checked her phone, again, but there were still no messages and Vicky still wasn't late, yet.
 

Shoving her phone back into her bag, she looked up as the door swung open. And there she was, Vicky Hudson. Looking exactly the same as she remembered, yet different, too. Vicky waved and walked towards her, seeming as confident and attracting just as many glances as she always had. Her blonde hair hid half of her face, the other half tucked behind her ear, showing off dark roots. Her hair, so much like her impish face, managed to look sweet and innocent yet hinted at a streak of mischief. That was Vicky, though. Emma had lost track of the number of times she had gotten into trouble with Vicky, yet somehow Vicky would always get them out of it, too.

"Hi, Emma," Vicky said, wrapping her arms around Emma. "I'm so sorry to hear about your mum. I was going to come to the funeral, but ... I don't know. It felt weird because I hadn't seen you or your mum for so long."

Emma pulled her arms from around Vicky and wiped at her eyes. She felt so guilty for letting Ben ultimately alienate her from her friends. "It's fine, I didn't expect you to come. If I could have gotten away with it, I might not have gone, either."

As Vicky ordered two glasses of white wine, Emma couldn't help, but smile. The drink might have changed, but Vicky ordering for them hadn't. Vicky was always the one to get the drinks, as she'd always looked the oldest. They took their glasses and sat in a corner booth, where it was easier to chat, away from the noise of the bar area. They both stared at each other, and Emma let the memories of happy times together flash through her mind.

"So, you're back then?"

Emma nodded and bit her lip because Vicky didn't exactly look thrilled by that fact.

"For good?"

Emma thought about it for a second then said, "Yes." Her mum wasn't the only reason she had come back home, and there was nowhere else she wanted to be. She had a shot at doing what she loved for a living. She liked her little cottage. Even liked the village that was just far enough away from her dad and sister. She had even started to make friends, an image of Matt lifting her lips. She had history there.
 

Emma watched Vicky's face and took a sip of her wine.

"And Ben?"

Emma put her glass back on the table and looked Vicky straight in the eyes. "Ben is a dick."

Vicky tilted her head and said, "Oh, Ems, I could have told you that years ago."

It wasn't what Emma had expected Vicky to say, and a laugh burst from her as she shook her head. Why had she waited so long to get back in touch?

"So, tell me what you've been up to since I've been away. Are you seeing anyone?"
 

Vicky let out a snort of a laugh and, just like that, the years of not speaking fell away. It felt just like the old days.

Waking from a knock at the door, Matt felt like his head had only just hit the pillow. Looking at his alarm clock, it read barely nine a.m. Running a hand down his face, the thought that he was late for work flashed through his mind. Flinging the covers back, he pushed his feet into his slippers and tried to smooth his hair down. Then he realised it was Saturday, his Saturday off, so who could be knocking on the door so early? Briefly, an image of Emma came to mind. It had only been a week since the funeral; what if something was wrong?
 

He took the stairs two at a time and wrenched open the front door. Stunned, he leaned against the jamb with his mouth open. Standing before him, looking grown-up, and serious, was a girl he hadn't seen in far too long. Her brown eyes twinkled, matching her dark hair that was pulled back into a messy ponytail.
 

"Jessica," he said, before pulling her into his arms. He felt her take a deep breath, and he drew back from her, holding her at arms' length to look at her again before shaking his head. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

She lifted both shoulders in a lazy shrug in answer to his question. "Didn't really know myself until I set off. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. I thought you might be at the museum." She cast her gaze over his dishevelled appearance and rumpled pyjamas, and a smile played across her face. "Am I disturbing something?"

His cheeks flushed at her insinuation and he shook his head. Dragging her inside, he closed the front door. "Help yourself to a drink while I go shower. I'm guessing you haven't had breakfast. You must have set off in the middle of the night to get here from London this early." When she didn't respond, he narrowed his eyes and looked at her closely. She appeared thin, but then she always had been, in his opinion. He thought she looked tired, but that might just have been the journey. "Give me ten minutes and I'll treat you to breakfast at the cafe. Then you can tell me everything."
 

She didn't respond, just headed for his kitchen. As he climbed the stairs, he felt his stomach clench. It was always the same when he was around Jess. He just hoped she was okay.

True to his word, ten minutes later they were on their way. Jess didn't have much to say, which had him worried; normally, he couldn't shut her up. He pulled open the door to the cafe and held it for her, following her inside. Betty's face lifted when she saw Matt enter.
 

Her eyes narrowed in on Jess. "What you doing bringing a girl in here? You trying to make me jealous, Matthew?"

Shaking his head, he pulled Jess to his side. "It hasn't been that long, Betty. Surely, you remember Jess?"

He watched as Betty cocked her head and looked Jess up and down. "Well, look at you. Quite the young lady now, and so pretty. Your mum must be right proud of you."

Jess slowly smiled but just said, "Nice to see you again, Betty."

"Well, take a seat, you two. You must have plenty to catch up on. I'll come and take your order in a minute."

Matt made his way to his usual table with Jess following him.

***

Turning back towards home, Emma huffed out a breath. Glancing at her watch again, she realised she was almost back on schedule. The first Saturday she had a client, and she'd slept in. And Barney was being awkward, probably because he hated this shortened walk. Walking past the café, she noticed how busy it was and promised herself again that she would go one day soon.
 

Then, out of nowhere, it hit her, right in the middle of her chest. She actually stumbled at the sight of it, but quickly carried on. Matt. Sitting with a gorgeous, dark-haired woman. A woman who was looking at him as though he was the answer to all her questions. How could the fact that he had a girlfriend never have come up in conversation? That Friday night after meeting his friends, she'd gotten the feeling he was interested in her, until she'd started crying on him. Had he just been showing off in front of his friends? But he'd seemed so nice when he took her to the funeral, never left her side. And he'd come across as one of the good guys, shy even. Had that been an act? A way of endearing himself? But then why did she care? He could do whatever he liked. It was nothing to do with her. Except, she'd thought they were friends. Maybe that they could even have been more.

"Emma. Wait up."

Great, he'd seen her. All she wanted to do was get home, go to her appointment, and not think about him. With another woman. Turning, she forced a smile onto her face and concentrated on Barney, the traitor, who was going mad at the sight of Matt. See, Barney thought he was one of the good guys.

"Hey, Matt. I'm kind of in a rush. I'm running late this morning."
 

"Oh. Well, I, er, just wanted to introduce you to my sister, Jessica. Jess, this is Emma."

Sister. Of course! He'd mentioned a sister, hadn't he? "It's really nice to meet you, Jessica."

"You, too, Emma. I've heard so much about you."

She couldn't stop her eyebrows from lifting, because she hadn't heard a bloody thing about his sister. Or any of his family, for that matter. The delight that Jessica was only his sister dropped along with her eyebrows. How much did she really know about Matt?

"Sorry I can't stop, but I've got to get to work. Maybe we could all get together at the pub later?" Emma suggested.

"Sounds good. We could call for you about seven?"

"Great, I'll see you both tonight." With a quick wave, she pulled Barney along behind her, back towards home. The night could turn out to be a lot more interesting than she thought it would be.