Page 81 of Not Just for Christmas

‘The best,’ I agreed.

Our eyes locked and we smiled at each other. He’d had star attraction then even before he’d got his first record deal. It had been no surprise to me that he’d made it big.

‘But that beach took everything from me,’ I said, curling my fingers so that my nails bit into my palms. ‘Not just Jack, but my plans for the future, the brothers and sisters I wanted for Sam. The life I thought I’d be living was all gone. The sea took it all.’

‘Your relationship with the ocean is bound to be complicated,’ he said softly. ‘But do you really want to carry that anger forever? For Sam’s sake, maybe it’s time to make peace with it.’

‘I don’t think I can.’ I swallowed hard.

Dylan took the empty mug from me and held my hands. ‘Then let me help you.’

‘There’s something I’ve never told anyone,’ I said, forcing myself to look at him. Firelight flashed in his eyes as he waited, not interrupting. ‘I blame myself for Jack’s accident.’

Dylan frowned. ‘You weren’t even there, how could you be responsible?’

‘Jack wouldn’t have been on the beach if it wasn’t for me.’ I dipped my chin, my voice cracking with shame. ‘It was my fault he died.’

I looked at our fingers, laced together and I felt the strength of the bond between us. Until now I’d been unable to talk about the things that had played on my mind, but I couldn’t carry on like this forever. I had to tell someone the truth about that day.

‘Lucy,’ he urged, ‘talk to me.’

And so I did, because silence was no longer an option.

Chapter 34

I pulled a cushion onto my lap and hugged it to me. ‘Did Jack ever tell you that he and I had been going through a sticky patch?’

Dylan’s eyes widened. ‘No way.’

‘Yep.’ I nodded. ‘It began after Sam started school in September. We suddenly realised he wasn’t a baby anymore and wasn’t going to need us twenty-four seven.’

Dylan got up and added more wood to the fire and I told him how a small niggle had built up to an argument.

Jack was happy. The farm was doing OK and he’d started surfing regularly again. He began talking about converting the unused outbuildings into a dairy so we could make our own organic cheese and yogurt. But I was restless. With Sam at school, my days felt empty and I needed a challenge.

I reminded Jack of our old plan to run a bed and breakfast from the spare rooms, but he worried about strangers in the house while Sam was still so young. He had a point. So I suggested we convert the outbuildings into holiday accommodation instead of a dairy.

‘I love that idea,’ Dylan said, sitting back down. ‘And that would have played into your strengths. Did Jack say yes?’

I pulled a face. ‘He said he’d think about it. So I waited and waited for him to give me his answer, but he never did. Instead, for my birthday he booked me onto a course to learn how to make cheese. I flipped.’

‘Not the most romantic gift,’ Dylan said with a wince.

‘I didn’t mind about that; I minded that he’d had set the wheels in motion for his own idea instead of taking my career goals seriously. He saw the holiday cottage idea as a hobby, whereas anything to do with the farm he considered real business. I felt let down. I’d put my career on hold to join him in running the farm, and he wasn’t being fair.’

‘And you told him this?’ He stretched his arm across the back of the sofa behind me.

‘Not in so many words.’ I glanced away, rubbing the back of my neck. ‘I got a refund on the cheese-making course and bought myself a flight to Australia for the following January. One way.’

‘Wow.’ Dylan laughed softly. ‘You really were mad.’

‘I was planning on coming back,’ I said with a crooked smile. ‘But the refund only covered half the air fare. He went very quiet when he found out and he never mentioned making cheese again. Fast-forward to lunchtime on twenty-third December …’

It came out of the blue: one minute he was in the cowshed, the next he was upstairs getting spruced up, telling me he had a meeting with the bank. It was a surprise, he said, and I should trust him.

Two hours passed. My mind was running in circles. Then the phone rang. He was in the car, the wind blowing so hard that he had to shout to make himself heard over the rattling windows. He had good news, he told me, and when I found out what it was I nearly dropped the phone. The meeting had been about a loan to convert the outbuildings into holiday accommodation, just like I wanted. He’d even got a builder to draw up plans. And the bank had agreed. I couldn’t believe he’d done that for me. He said that making me happy was his priority, that was far more important than a dairy. And if I still wanted to go to Australia, we could start building work as soon as I got back.

I’d been so excited for him to come home and show me the drawings. I couldn’t wait to get started. I loved the farm, but this would be something for me to get stuck into and call my own. He told me that he’d put a bottle of fizz in the fridge and we’d celebrate as soon as he got home.