Page 42 of The Silent Bride
Silence descends on the room again. A breeze swishes the cream muslin curtains and I notice the steady tick of the grandmother clock in the corner of the room – an heirloom from Seth’s father’s side of the family.
The silence soon becomes uncomfortable enough for me to break it. ‘Are you still taking the Southampton job, or will you move back to London?’ As soon as I ask the question, I realise it wasthe wrong thing to say. It’s basically telling him that I don’t want him here. That I’m doubtful things will get back to how they were. That I’m hoping hewillreturn to London.
Seth doesn’t answer immediately.
I wonder if I should try to retract the question. Smooth things over.
‘I guess that depends on you,’ he replies, hurt lacing his voice.
I don’t know what to say. I feel like a bitch, but I can’t help it. My emotions are visceral, bubbling over without warning. I’m dismayed by our thorough lack of connection. Aside from Seth’s obvious good looks, I wonder what it was that I originally saw in him. Should I stick it out and keep trying to get to know him again? Try to regain what we had. Find the love. The connection. Hope that I grow to recognise him once more. Or should I just call it quits? All options feel like losing.
I glance up again to see Seth shaking his head, his gaze still fixed on me. I look back down at my nails, trying to shake off my anxiety.
‘I’m not even sure going back to London would be possible,’ Seth grunts. ‘I already handed in my notice and took the new job at Southampton. I’d have to re-apply ... but what are you saying, Alice? Youwantme to go back to London, is that it?’
‘No. I don’t know. It’s really hot in here.’ I pull at my shirt, then reach for my water and gulp the rest of it down before returning the empty glass to the coffee table with a loud clunk. I start picking at my nails once more, wondering how soon I can leave. I need to collect my thoughts. While I’m in the same vicinity as him, I can’t seem to think straight.
‘Alice, can you at least look up? Maybe if you looked at me rather than down at your fingers, we’d have more chance of you recognising me again, if that’s even what’s really going on here.’
He still doesn’t believe me. He refuses to accept that I’m telling him the truth. I curl my fingers into fists and wrench my gaze upwards. His face is tanned, his eyes dark, cheekbones high, jaw square – all the disparate elements that make up a very handsome man. But is he really the man I fell in love with? Because all I see when I look at him is the face of a stranger.
A stranger who scares me.
Chapter Twenty-One
So far, so good.
But I don’t want to get complacent.
It’s not done yet. Not even half of it.
I pace the living room and contemplate my current situation. My life. What it has been, what it could be. No, I need to think positive. Not what it could be. What itwillbe.
I got lucky, but I need to take advantage of that luck and make this work for me. I need to ease this physical ache. This yearning for the life I was denied.
It’s always other people who seem to get their hearts’ desires. Always the undeserving ones. The spoilt ones. The charmed ones. Everything falls into their laps. Meanwhile, my life either stagnates or crumbles. People on the outside looking in might envy me. They might say I have everything a person could want. But they’re not me. They don’t know what I want.
They have no idea.
Chapter Twenty-Two
THEN
I’m so engrossed in my book – a creepy crime novel – that it takes me a moment to register the sound of the doorbell. I look up and frown. I’m not expecting anyone. It’s almost nine on a Wednesday evening. Daisy’s staying over at Martin’s and Seth is in London. A cursory glance at my phone shows no new messages.
With a sigh, I uncurl myself from the sofa and retie my dressing gown over my pyjamas. I peer out of the window, through the bare branches of the sycamore tree, down to the street below and see a man standing there in the rain. He looks up, his face illuminated beneath the security lighting. As he catches my eye, he gives a little wave. My heart sinks. It’s Graham, and he’s alone.
At the front door, I press the buzzer and wait for him to come up.
Thirty seconds later the bell rings, making me jump, and I open the door to see my brother-in-law standing round-shouldered in the communal hallway, his fair hair damp from the December rain.
‘Hey, Alice. Sorry to call round unannounced.’ His gaze travels down to take in my dressing gown. His face falls. ‘I didn’t wake you up, did I?’
‘Hi, Graham. No, that’s okay, I was just reading.’ My sister’s fear that he still has feelings for me flashes through my brain. Surely not.
‘Oh, that’s a relief,’ he replies. ‘Sorry it’s a bit late. I should’ve come round earlier. Too much work to get through before the holidays. Anyway, I’m rambling ...’
‘Come in.’ I stand back to allow him into the flat and he follows me across the hall into the living room. ‘Can I get you a drink?’ I ask, hoping he says no.
