Hitched! (20 page)

Perhaps it was all for the best, I told myself. Driving back
into Whellerby had felt dangerously like going home. George had cooked a welcome
home/farewell dinner and Saffron and Roly were there. To my surprise, Saffron
had taken to country life in a big way. I couldn’t quite work out her
relationship with Roly but she seemed happy, and George was even teaching her to
ride.

Saffron couldn’t understand why I was going. ‘Do you know how
lucky you are to have George? He’s a nice man and he loves you, and you love
him.’

‘I need more than love, Saffron,’ I told her. ‘There’s nothing
for me to do in Whellerby now. George understands that.’

He said he did, anyway. Of course I had imagined staying, but I
wasn’t interested in pottering around the house. I had to work. It had been a
long hard slog to get qualified. I was where I had planned to be, and the next
step was clear.

‘And you, you need to be here,’ I said to George that last
night. ‘Running the estate, working with horses the way you planned. That’s what
you’ve always wanted. You need a family, George. You should find a girl who
wants those things too.’

‘What if I don’t want a girl like that?’ said George. ‘What if
I want
you
?’ He took my hands. ‘I love you, Frith.
You know that, don’t you?’

The blue eyes held an expression I had never seen before, and
my blood tingled as I stared into them, my fingers curled tightly around his.
Saffron had said that he loved me, and at some level I think I had known that it
was true, but this was the first time that George had said it out loud. The
first time I had really let myself believe it.

It was amazing. Incredibly, extraordinarily, wonderfully
amazing. George loved me. George, who was so warm and so funny and so true. He
was a good man, an intelligent man, and wiser than I had ever given him credit
for. He was knee-wobblingly gorgeous. And he loved
me
. Small wonder my heart was swelling and singing!

He
loved
me.

‘And I love you,’ I said. ‘Oh, George, I do, I
do
!’

‘Then stay.’

‘I can’t,’ I said and my voice cracked.

I didn’t dare. He might love me now, but how could he love me
for ever? He needed to love someone kind and sweet and nice who would belong in
his world. How could he truly love a prickly misfit like me?

‘I do love you, George,’ I tried to explain. ‘There’s a huge
bit of me that longs to say “yes, I’ll stay” and find myself some kind of job,
but what would I do? You know what I’m like. I’d end up snappy and resentful,
and take it out on you. I’d hate it if that happened and you stopped loving
me.’

‘I won’t stop loving you,’ said George, his clasp warm and
steady. ‘You have to trust me.’

‘I...can’t,’ I said brokenly. I wanted to—oh, how I wanted
to!—but I couldn’t shake the memory of my mother, who had trusted Dad to love
her for ever too. I couldn’t bear to let myself need George and then to lose
him. I couldn’t bear to spend the rest of my life missing him. It was better to
say goodbye while we were still friends.

‘I’m sorry, George,’ I whispered. ‘I just can’t.’

* * *

George drove me to the airport near Leeds. I was flying
to London and then straight out to Shofrar. My bags were packed. I said goodbye
to Roly and Saffron, and gave Audrey a last pat. I had nothing more to stay
for.

We were silent on the drive. I wanted to find the words to tell
George how much I’d loved him, how important his friendship had been to me, how
much I was going to miss him. But I couldn’t speak. My throat was too tight, my
heart too full. I was horribly afraid that if I opened my mouth, it would be to
ask him to turn around and take me home.

‘Don’t come in,’ I said when we got to the airport. ‘It’s going
to be hard enough saying goodbye as it is.’

‘All right.’ George lifted my case out of the back of the car
and set it on a trolley. Straightened, he looked at me and his jaw tightened.
‘So, this is goodbye?’

‘Yes,’ I said, and my voice broke as I stepped forward and held
onto him tightly, squeezing my eyes shut against the treacherous tears as his
arms came round me for a last time. ‘I’ll never forget you,’ I said. ‘I do love
you, I do, it’s just—’

He stopped me, laying a finger across my lips. ‘I know,’ he
said, ‘the plan.’

We kissed, a last desperate kiss, and then I pulled away before
I changed my mind. ‘Goodbye, George,’ I managed, reaching blindly for the
trolley, and then I walked away from him.

I walked away from the best chance of happiness I ever had
because I was afraid of how much I loved him and how deeply he made me feel. I
walked away from a wonderful man who loved me and who made me laugh, away from
the hope of a family, away from the only place I felt as if I belonged. I’d
spent years fearing to let go in case someone hurt me, but in the end, when I
let go anyway, I broke my own heart.

I turned my back and I didn’t look back, so that George
couldn’t see the tears I had kept bottled up inside me for so long pouring
uncontrollably down my cheeks.

* * *

It was all for the best. I told myself that a lot. And I
was
glad I was in Shofrar. I loved my job. It
was a huge site, and I got a buzz out of being involved in such a big, complex
project. I loved the harsh light and the hammering sun and the wail of the
muezzin sent shivers down my spine.

I’d never been anywhere remotely like Shofrar before. It was a
small but prosperous state with a Westernised approach that made it easier for
me as a woman. I could drive and live alone. There was a compound with rows of
prefabricated houses, and I was allotted one of those. Social life was fairly
restricted. There was a club in the compound, and at weekends we could go down
to the sea and drink beers at the beach club, but that was it.

I wasn’t the only female engineer there but we were massively
outnumbered by the men, and I had no shortage of offers to play as well as work
together. I stuck to group outings though. The thought of anyone but George
touching me made me feel physically sick. I missed him with a horrible dragging
ache.

I missed his touch, terribly, but I missed talking to him more.
I missed the gleam in his eyes when he was teasing me, the tantalising curl of
his mouth, his smile as he drew me towards him. I missed coming home at the end
of the day and finding him there with his feet on my table, drinking my beer. I
missed arguing with him, laughing with him. I missed my friend. I missed my
lover.

My ringtone was a sensibly discreet buzz. I hated it.

But I had my career, I reminded myself feverishly. I couldn’t
have both. The number of times I sat down and looked at the phone, thinking
about ringing George and hearing his voice. The times my fingers hovered over
the keyboard when I was at my email. Whenever something happened, my first
thought was how I would tell George about it.

I didn’t get in touch. What would have been the point? I’d made
my decision. Besides—I tortured myself with this thought a lot—George had
probably met someone else by now. Someone pretty who loved the country and rode
horses and laughed at all his jokes. Someone who wouldn’t roll their eyes when
he drank their beer or argue with him or insist on going to work overseas. He
had said he loved me, but how long would he miss me?

* * *

It was a long day on site. The heat was crushing, and
the sand and dust were gritty on my skin. My head throbbed under the hard hat,
not helped by the roar of the great earth movers. Everything had gone wrong that
day, and by the time I got back to my characterless quarters I wanted nothing
more than to take a long, cold shower and fall onto my bed. Still, I found
myself reluctant to go back. The house felt empty and every time I opened the
door and faced the silence broken only by the rattle of the air conditioner my
loneliness increased.

There was a car parked outside the house. It was dark and
official-looking and I looked at it puzzled as I drew up bumper to bumper.
Leaving my hard hat in my pickup truck, I got out and glanced curiously at the
driver as I closed my door, only to freeze. He had fair hair like George,
shoulders set just like George’s, and the glimpse was like a punch to my
heart.

Then he opened his own door and got out, and the tarmac beneath
my feet tilted, making my head reel. It couldn’t be George.

But it was. Incredibly, he looked nervous, but it was George.
He took off his sunglasses and looked straight at me, and my heart, which had
stopped with that first blow of recognition, stuttered back to life.

‘George,’ I croaked. ‘George.’

‘Hello, Frith.’

I didn’t think. I just walked into his arms. ‘George.’ It was
all I could say as he folded me tightly to him.

We didn’t kiss at first. We just clung together, and I breathed
in the wonderful smell of him. I still couldn’t really believe that he was real,
that he was there. ‘George. I thought I’d never see you again.’

‘I’ve missed you,’ he murmured against my hair. ‘God, I’ve
missed you.’

I lifted my face from his throat at last. ‘What are you doing
here? No wait,’ I said when he began to answer. ‘Let’s go inside. It’s too hot
out here.’

I let him into the blissful cool of the house. My legs were
shaking, and I leant back against the door as I closed it. ‘What
are
you doing here?’

George didn’t answer immediately. He was looking around the
room, and I could see how bare it must look to his eyes. I hadn’t had the heart
to personalise it. ‘How’s the job?’ he asked.

‘Good,’ I said. ‘I’m enjoying it.’ It was true. ‘It’s what I
want to do, George.’

‘I know that.’

The air conditioning rattled into the silence.

‘How are things at Whellerby?’ I asked at last. ‘Is everything
all right?’

‘Fine,’ said George. ‘Saffron and Roly are getting married next
summer. They want me to be best man and you to be bridesmaid.’

‘I’m not sure I can cope with another of Saffron’s
weddings!’

‘She promises this one is going to be small, in Whellerby
church. Roly’s ecstatic, as you can imagine.’

‘And Saffron?’ I asked dubiously.

‘She’s happy too. You wouldn’t think it, but they’re well
suited.’

‘Roly will adore her, and she’ll adore being adored.’

‘They’re very sweet together,’ said George. ‘I’m pleased for
them both, of course, but I miss you. There’s only so much sweetness I can
take.’

He came over to take my hands and draw me away from the door,
his clasp warm and firm. ‘I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you, Frith.’

‘I’ve missed you too,’ I told him, but my heart was sinking. He
was going to ask me to go back, and I was going to have to say no. I couldn’t
give up the job now. I was learning so much.

‘I’m not going to ask you to come back,’ said George, not for
the first time reading my mind.

‘Oh. Oh, right.’ I know, I’m perverse, but my first reaction
was bitter disappointment. I struggled to sound as if I didn’t care. ‘So what
are you doing here?’ I asked for the third time.

‘I’ve come for an interview.’

It was the last thing I’d expected him to say. ‘An
interview
?’

‘For a job,’ he said helpfully.

‘But...the estate...the stables...’

‘The stables will always be there, and Saffron’s looking after
Mabel. The family have “forgiven” me, apparently, and they offered me the money
to set up a remedial centre, but I don’t want to take it. I want to do it by
myself, and I can earn good money if I get this job. And I probably
will
get the job,’ George said. ‘I might not take
their money, but I’m cashing in my connections. Harry set this up for me.’

‘What job?’ I said, puzzled. I couldn’t imagine what George
could do out in Shofrar.

‘I’d forgotten, but the Sultan of Shofrar was in the same class
as Harry at school. They met up in London recently at some banking affair, and
the Sultan told Harry that he wanted to set up a stud. Shofrari Arab horses used
to be famous, and he’s keen to build up their reputation again. It turns out
that he’s looking for an advisor, and Harry mentioned me...I got the impression
the job’s mine if I want it.’

I couldn’t take it in. ‘But you want a life in the country,’ I
stammered.

‘Not without you,’ said George. ‘I tried, Frith, I really did.
I went through all the stages. I was wretched after you left, then furious with
you for going. Then I told myself that I had to accept it and get on with my
life. I kept psyching myself up to meet someone else, but then I realised that I
didn’t want anyone else. I only want you.’

‘But I’m so...so...’ My fingers twined around George’s of their
own accord.

‘You’re not easy, I’ll grant you,’ he said. ‘You’re prickly and
practical and far, far too attached to your plans, but it was you I wanted to
talk to when I got in at the end of the day. I wanted you to make me laugh. I
wanted that feeling of rightness I got when I held you.

‘You said we were different,’ he went on when I could only gaze
dumbly at him, ‘and we are, but we fit together anyway, and I miss that and I
want it again, and if the only way I can be with you is to come out and be where
your job is, that’s what I’ll do.’

I swallowed the constriction in my throat. ‘I can’t believe
you’d do that for me.’

‘I’ll do it for
us
, if you want
it.’

‘Oh, George, yes, I want it.’ My voice broke as I reached for
him. ‘I’ve been so unhappy without you.’

‘But there’s a condition,’ said George, and I pulled back a
little.

‘Condition?’

‘You have to marry me,’ he said. ‘I know how you feel about
marriage, sweetheart,’ he said, gathering me back against him. ‘I know you’re
afraid, and that trusting is hard for you, but if you love me, you’re going to
have to prove it. I think you don’t believe anyone could really love you, but I
do. Believing me is a risk for you, I know, but you’re going to have to take
it.