He glanced at Romy, then away again. ‘What did you mean when you told Willie that love wasn’t the problem?’
‘It isn’t,’ she said. ‘The problem is that love doesn’t last. The problem is that it isn’t enough.’
‘Willie thinks it is. It lasted forty-seven years for him and Moira.’
‘They were lucky,’ said Romy. ‘We might not be.’ She turned restlessly, rubbing her arms. ‘It’s all very well for Willie to say compromise, but how would that actually work? Do you
‘We could compromise in other ways,’ Lex suggested.
‘How? A flat like this isn’t suitable for a toddler.’ She gestured around her. ‘How long before I get fed up with all the sharp angles and slippy floors? Before I start resenting the fact that there’s no garden or other children nearby? Before I think that if I have to manoeuvre that pushchair into the lift one more time I’m going to scream?
‘And how long before you’re gritting your teeth about the mess? Until you’re exasperated by the chaos and the noise and disgusted by the dirty nappies and Freya’s runny nose?’
Romy shook her head. ‘Compromise is hard, Lex. And I can’t take the risk that you’ll be able to do it. If it was just me, then perhaps. But I’ve got Freya to think about too. When you’ve got a child, you have to put practicalities before passion. I have to think about Freya and what she needs. She’d be better off in the country, where I can afford to give her a better life.
‘It would be so easy to stay here with you,’ she said. ‘To think, oh, well, let’s give it a go, but you said it yourself: we’re different, and we want different things. I don’t see how it could work, and if we try and it doesn’t work it’ll hurt all of us.’
Lex was watching her pace fretfully to and fro, her arms hugged together.
‘So you’re saying that you love me, but you don’t love me enough to be sure it would work out?’
Romy lifted her chin. ‘Do you love me enough to put up with all the mess and uncertainty that comes from living with a child?’
Fatally, Lex hesitated, and she smiled sadly. ‘I didn’t think so.’
‘I think it might be worth a try,’ he insisted, but she shook her head.
‘I can’t take that risk, Lex. I don’t dare.’
She drew a breath, let it out shakily. ‘Freya and I will go back to my flat tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Jo’s back next week, so the maternity cover finishes then. I’m going to move down to Somerset straight away.’
‘And what do we tell all those people who are now convinced that we’re having a raging affair?’
‘Tell them it didn’t work out,’ said Romy. ‘For once, we won’t have to pretend.’
CHAPTER TEN
‘I THINK that’s everything.’ Lex set down the high chair and the changing mat. The hallway of Romy’s tiny flat was crammed with bags and baby equipment.
It had been a long day. They had both gone to the signing ceremony, and had smiled and smiled for the inevitable photographs. Then they had said goodbye to Willie Grant, who told them to get in touch when they’d come to their senses. And after that there had been nothing to do but to collect up all Romy’s stuff from the flat, and Lex had driven them home.
Except it didn’t feel like home any more. The flat was cold and poky and dreary and Romy’s throat was so tight she could hardly speak. Any moment now, she was going to have to say goodbye to Lex, and she didn’t know how she was going to bear it.
He looked all wrong in this shabby flat.
Freya was sitting on the floor of the living room, puzzled by suddenly finding herself somewhere new. She looked around doubtfully as if not at all sure what she was doing there. Romy knew how she felt.
‘Will I see you before you go?’ Lex asked at last, and she drew a breath to steady herself.
‘I think it’s probably easier if we don’t.’
His eyes shuttered. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’
The silence was excruciating.
‘Well.’ Romy lifted her hands and let them drop. ‘I…er…I should probably give Freya her tea.’
‘Yes. I’ll go.’
Lex squatted down next to Freya and smoothed down the absurd quiff of hair. She looked up at him with those round, astounded eyes, her face dissolving into a smile, and the cold stone where Lex’s heart had once been splintered into shards. ‘Be good,’ he said, and straightened before his voice could crack.
Romy was waiting by the door. Her dark eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.
‘I don’t know how to say goodbye,’ she confessed.
‘Then don’t,’ said Lex. He put his hands on her arms and wondered if this was the last time he would see her for another twelve years. ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I’ve always loved you.’
‘And I love you.’ Romy was desperately blinking back the tears, but it was a losing battle. ‘I do,’ she insisted as if he hadn’t believed her. ‘I just wish…’
She wished it were enough, but it wasn’t.
‘I know,’ said Lex, and, because there wasn’t any other way to say goodbye, he smoothed his hands up over her shoulders and up her throat to cradle her jaw. ‘I just wish too,’ he said, and kissed her.
Romy leant into him, slipping her arms around his waist to hold him close, and they kissed, a fierce, desperate kiss that said everything words couldn’t.
This will be the last time, Romy thought, even as her senses spun. The last time I touch him. The last time he kisses me. The last time I feel as if I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
Even as she tried to hold onto the sensation, Lex was giving her one last, longing kiss and dropping his hands. He stepped back and reached for the door. Opened it.
Romy was standing exactly where he had left her, her mouth pressed in a straight line to stop it shaking, and her eyes dark and dazed.
Unable to resist one last touch, Lex wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. ‘Goodbye, Romy,’ he said gently, and then he was gone.
The phone was ringing as Romy manoeuvred the pushchair into the narrow cottage hall and shut the door behind her. Keys still clenched between her teeth, she ran into the kitchen to grab the cordless phone, only just remembering to spit out the keys in time.
‘Hello?’ she said breathlessly.
‘Romy? It’s Mum. I’m afraid I’ve got some sad news.’
Gerald Gibson was dead. ‘Another stroke,’ Molly told Romy. ‘A merciful release in some ways, but of course Faith is devastated. He wasn’t an easy man, but she adored him and she feels so alone now. She’s got Lex and Phin, I know, but it’s not the same. She and Gerald loved each other so much, I often thought those boys missed out.’
The funeral was to be the following Friday. ‘You should be there for Faith,’ her mother said. ‘She’s your godmother. And Phin was always a good friend to you, wasn’t he?’
And Lex, Romy wanted to cry. Lex mattered most of all.
She had been in Somerset for seven weeks, and everything had fallen into place as if it were meant to be. She had found a little cottage in the same village as Jenny. It was a bit like living in a doll’s house, with tiny rooms and a handkerchief garden, but it was enough for Freya. If Romy sometimes felt as if she couldn’t breathe, and thought longingly of Lex’s spacious apartment, well, that was a price of independence and she was happy to pay it.
Michael lived nearby, but not too close, and he and Kate had taken Freya for the afternoon a few times now. She hadn’t spent the night with them yet, but Romy had no doubt that would come. Michael was making the effort to get to know his daughter, and that could only be a good thing. He had offered Romy financial support, but she had suggested that he invest the money for Freya instead. A relationship between Freya and her father was one thing. Accepting money was quite another. Money would be a tie. Romy wasn’t ready for that.
She had found a job. Only part-time for now, but it was a start. People in the village were friendly. They could live cheaply. She ought to be happy, Romy reminded herself. She had everything she needed.
