dark hair falling forward. Apart from the better quality of his jeans and T-shirt now, he didn’t look any different from the man she’d met there every day that summer. She should have trusted their love. If she hadn’t been a stupid, pathetic teenager back then they would never have been parted. But then would he ever have told her about Keith, David and the club? Would he have always kept that from her? She guessed she’d never know.
*
He raised his head from studying the ground and saw her. She was dressed in a cream linen dress, tan sandals on her feet, her hair loose and touching her shoulders. She had never looked more beautiful. His heart should have risen at the sight of her but it had already plummeted so far south, he didn’t know whether there was any going back. He didn’t expect anything from her. He hoped, but he didn’t expect, and he wouldn’t. Ever.
He put his hands through his hair, pushing it back behind his ears and straightened up. He put his hands into his pockets and his fingers brushed the ring box. He didn’t know why he’d brought it with him. Perhaps it was a comfort or a reminder of what he’d lost. He’d just instinctively known he wanted it near.
She approached him. She looked tired, nervous maybe, and when she stopped beside him she was wringing her hands together.
*
‘Hi,’ she greeted. This felt so awkward. She didn’t know what to say to him. How to start or how to carry on once she had begun. She knew where it would lead and it terrified her.
‘Hi,’ he mouthed in response. His voice sounded hoarse.
There was silence. She looked at him, taking in his unshaven face, the frown lines enhanced on his forehead, his misted eyes.
‘I am so sorry,’ he broke in. He folded then, in front of her. His body convulsed as he sobbed and she didn’t know what to do. It was the worst sound in the world and if it carried on she was going to break too.
She reached into his arms to find his hand. She took it, held it tightly in hers, stroking his fingers. At the moment it was all she had to give.
‘I am so sorry,’ he repeated in a whisper, wiping his eyes with his other hand.
She shook her head. He wasn’t really the one who should be saying that now. He had given her a confession last night. Now it was her turn.
‘Walk with me,’ she said, turning towards the gate.
‘Emma.’
‘Please. Just walk with me.’
The colour of the fields, the cornflower blue of the sky looked exactly the same as they had the day she’d left. It felt surreal being here. She felt just as upset and disturbed as she had eight years ago. Time hadn’t changed anything. She was still as vulnerable as she had been then. She’d hidden her heart for so long and the moment she let him in to find it, he injured it again. She began to speak.
‘You have to understand that when I left you that day, I was inconsolable. Not just a bit upset, Guy. Inconsolable. It’s important you know that.’ She looked over at him. They had walked hand-in-hand from the campsite to where they were now, on the track, near the grass that led down to the river.
‘I know that. I know what I did to you,’ he responded.
She nodded, satisfied he realised the depth of her feeling. She started over to the right, stepped onto the grass, then stopped, closing her eyes. She could still see the scene. She could smell the corn, the sweet scent of fruit in the air. She could hear Luc crying.
‘They were just over there.’ She pointed. ‘Luc was crying his little heart out and she… your mother, she was lying there on a blanket, passed out.’ She didn’t wait for him to make comment. She strode forward, heading towards the spot on the bank. ‘She was here. Right here. Drunk. There was a bottle of brandy next to her and Luc was just screaming and screaming and she wasn’t taking any notice of him. She didn’t even move,’ Emma continued. She turned to look at Guy as he stood alongside her, but he showed no emotion. He didn’t speak or do anything. He just stood there, looking at the grass in front of them.
‘I picked him up and he settled almost straightaway. He was hot and hungry so I sat on