Laura sank down at the desk and brushed furiously at the tears rolling down her cheeks. She had promised herself she wouldn't cry again, but she hadn't bargained for feeling so utterly wretched. And somehow, she knew there would be many more tears to come.
Chapter Twenty-One
Laura wearily stacked the pile of exercise books to mark and hoisted them into her arms, peering over the top as she headed out of the building and across the school car park. Throwing everything onto the back seat of her car, she was about to climb in when she heard a shout. She turned to see Jean, her head of department, running to catch up with her.
"Hello, Jean. Is anything the matter?" she asked, a smile plastered on her face—something she'd been doing for weeks now to the detriment of her overstrained facial muscles.
Jean frowned. "I was going to ask you the same thing. I've been trying to catch you alone for days!"
Warily, Laura asked, "How do you mean?"
The other woman sighed. "Look, Laura, you can tell me it's none of my business, but I can't help noticing you've not been yourself since the new term started. It's not that you're not doing your job well or anything like that – quite the opposite, as usual. But you look awfully tired, and I'm worried about you. Are you ill or something?"
Or something. Laura shook her head. "No, Jean, I'm fine. Please don't worry about me. I'm sure it's just the same old story – all work and no play, or however it goes."
Jean nodded. "Well, alright. I don't want to interfere, but please promise me you'll take more care of yourself?"
"I promise. Have a good weekend, Jean."
Laura watched her walk away before climbing behind the wheel. Her reflection in the driver's mirror did nothing to cheer her, but she'd grown used to seeing the pale complexion and dark circles under dull eyes staring back at her. It wasn't hard to see why Jean was worried.
With a sigh, she set off home. She was growing tired of reassuring everyone she was fine. She was about as far removed from fine as she could be. Three weeks into the autumn term and she seemed to be getting worse, not better. It felt like years since she was in Portugal.
Her week there after Daniel left had flown by in a sort of numb haze. There was another wedding to get through the day after he went, and Paulo and Rachel had returned that night. Laura was kept mercifully busy catching up with their news and updating them, although that, of course, involved telling them about Daniel and his potential business. It had been so hard discussing him without giving her feelings away. Maria had watched her like a hawk, and Laura suspected she wasn't easily fooled. Rachel, too, had sensed something was wrong, but she managed to convince her she was just a little run-down and her holiday was doing her the world of good.
Laura winced. She wished she'd never gone there this summer, never met Daniel—but it was too late for that. She had met him, she'd fallen in love with him, and now she was paying the price.
Daniel had never said he would be in touch, and sure enough he hadn't been. He'd never promised her anything. But her naïve assumption that thoughts of him would fade as time passed—that if she threw herself wholeheartedly into her life and work back home she would soon forget him—had long since gone. Lately he seemed to enter her thoughts, unbidden, at the slightest opportunity. She hated what this was doing to her; hated not being in charge of her own emotions. She'd never been that way before. But then she'd never been in love before.
Loaded down with books, Laura let herself into her flat and threw them on the sofa so she could riffle through the post.
Bills, junk mail . . . and a postcard from Viana do Castelo. Hurriedly, she flipped it over. It was from Teresa. It seemed Daniel and Paulo had struck an amicable deal last week in Portugal, and both Paulo and Rachel passed on their gratitude for all her help. Teresa finished in her inimitable teenage manner, "Aren't you missing Mr. Stone's handsome face, Laura? I am!"
Laura filled the kettle, in need of a cup of tea. If only they knew how much that deal had cost her . . .
A knock at the door made her jump, but when she opened it to find her big brother standing there, she shrieked in genuine delight and threw her arms around him.
"Steve! What a lovely surprise!"
"Hello, little sis. How are you?"
"I'm fine," she lied, well-practised at it. "Do you want a cup of tea? I was just making one."
"Okay." He followed her through to the kitchen. "For crying out loud, what happened to you?"
Not daring to face him, Laura fumbled in the cupboard for tea bags. "What do you mean?"
"I mean the way your clothes hang off you like that. Have you lost weight?"
"A little." She shrugged casually and changed the subject. "So, what are you doing here? I haven't seen you for ages. Since before I went away, wasn't it?"
He nodded and took the hot mug she offered him. "Thanks. I . . . er . . . I came partly because I have an announcement to make, actually." He loosened his tie and nervously cleared his throat. "Better get it over and done with. I'm getting married."
Laura's jaw dropped and she struggled to hang on to the mug she was holding. "Married! Who on earth to?"
"A woman called Clare. I met her at work a few months ago."
"But I didn't even know you were going out with anyone!" Laura said, unable to hide the accusatory tone in her voice. Steve always shared everything with
