The Spark - Jules Wake Page 0,121

not really.’ I looked down at the picture in my hand and my lip wobbled. ‘I’ve made a terrible mistake.’ And I began to cry.

‘Terrible mistakes are only the ones that can’t be undone. Are you sure it’s that terrible?’ he asked putting an arm around me and leading me to one of the sofas, somehow snagging a handy box of tissues on the way. He sat down next to me, the tissues on his lap.

Could it be undone? Could Sam forgive me?

I narrowed my eyes at my father. He might even know. I could do with a male perspective.

‘I… boyfriend Sam. I finished with him, the day we got back from here.’

‘Ah.’

‘For stupid reasons.’ I turned the picture towards Dad. ‘This is Sam. The first day I met him. He had a girlfriend. I don’t normally believe in love at first sight but … there was something. A month and a half later he phoned me. He didn’t have a girlfriend anymore. We started going out together.’ I gave a mirthless laugh. ‘We practically moved in together straightaway. It should have been perfect. It almost was.’ I laid the photo in my lap and gave my dad a sad smile. ‘Except now I was the other woman. Like the one that had supposedly wrecked my mother’s life. And it wasn’t a nice feeling. His girlfriend was genuinely heartbroken and I felt terrible.’

Dad nodded.

‘I thought after a while she would get over him, get used to it. But she didn’t. Oh God, she really didn’t. She still hasn’t.’ I looked at him. ‘Does this sound familiar?’

He nodded and reached for my hand. ‘It does.’

‘I kept blaming myself for their break-up and her continued unhappiness. It drove her to do some … stupid, annoying things. She wouldn’t, hasn’t, let go. It’s made life difficult for Sam, with his mother, his friends, and it’s caused problems for me at work.

‘And now I realise … that she is at the root of her own unhappiness. I’m not to blame. And that Sam and I deserve to be happy. I’ve seen what you and Alicia have. You’ve built a life together, and that’s what’s most important.’

Dad nodded. ‘It doesn’t stop the guilt, but we’ve built a good life for ourselves, and I love her very much. You have to make your own happiness, seize it and nurture it. Like gardening, things will grow if you give them the basic nutrients.’

‘I bailed on Sam. But I don’t know if he’ll forgive me.’

Dad laughed and handed me a tissue. ‘Alicia is better at this stuff than I am, but even I can tell you, we men are simple souls. It sounds like you and Sam had something special. That’s not going to die in a few days. If you’re hurting, he’s probably hurting too.’

‘I think I need to go and see him, but it doesn’t change things.’ I explained what I’d overhead at Sam’s parents’ house.

‘That’s interesting,’ said Dad. ‘Funnily enough, I have a few friends in the cricketing world. Used to play myself. That’s how I met your mum. She was always cricket-mad. Would you like me to make a few enquiries?’

‘That would be amazing, although I don’t know how it will help.’

‘Cricketing men pride themselves on playing the game. Doing the right thing. You’ve heard the phrase “it just isn’t cricket”. Well, this definitely doesn’t sound like cricket. Leave it with me.’

‘Daaad, are you coming? We’re starving!’ yelled a voice from next door.

‘On our way,’ he called back, putting a hand under my elbow and drawing me to my feet. ‘You can bring him with you, next time you come.’

Chapter Thirty-Two

The heatwave had returned but I’d abandoned my shorts and T-shirt for a simple flowered dress, with pockets, that showed off my legs and the tan I’d built up lying in Dad and Alicia’s garden.

I’d spent a lovely couple of days with them and had come back to Tring feeling so much more robust. I hadn’t realised how much the situation with Victoria had worn me down. I felt like I was back to my usual optimistic self – although that might have been Alicia’s force-of-nature personality rubbing off. We’d become firm friends and I’d completely fallen in love with my naughty brothers, who’d discovered I had a loathing for worms – the less said, the better. My dad was more reserved, but we’d built a quiet friendship over those few days and I treasured his calm wisdom. He was a very lovely man,