Cosy Nights & Snowball Fights (Little Duck Pond Cafe #36)

CHAPTER SIX

Whatever you do, don’t look back!

I almost laughed as that thought slipped into my mind. It had been my mantra ever since I’d left Compton Meadows back in March.

At the time, running away had seemed the only solution.

But I’d been here long enough now to realise that putting a geographical distance between you and your troubles didn’t mean you could leave them behind. Because of course you couldn’t. They stayed with you, in your head. And there was nothing you could do about that.

But having fled, there was no way I was ever going back.

*****

Tears of despair filled my eyes as I blundered along the high street, retracing my steps to the car park. There was a horrible sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and I was longing to be back to the safety of my little cottage. I just wanted to close the front door behind me, double-lock it and shut the whole world out.

Racing round the corner, my eyes were down, focusing on just the few paving flags in front of me. So when a pair of long legs in jeans suddenly appeared in my view, I was too late to change course. With a gasp, I stepped to the side, but the jeans-clad legs moved the same way, resulting in the inevitable. We cannoned into each other, and when I looked up in horror, I realised the owner of the legs had been carrying a cup of coffee – most of which he now appeared to be wearing, all down the front of his blue checked shirt...

Staring up into a pair of alarmed green eyes, I gulped and muttered an apology. I had a brief impression of dark hair and a strong jaw before my gaze dropped to the sheaf of papers he was carrying, which looked horribly official. I say ‘horribly’ because they were now, thanks to me, soggy with spilled coffee. I knew I recognised him, but in my panic, I couldn’t think straight.

‘Are you okay?’ His eyes were striking... filled with concern. And that’s when it hit me. Of course I recognised him. It was the young guy I’d seen with Maddy’s kilt-wearing dad Marcus at the café.

‘Er, yes. Thanks. Sorry again,’ I muttered, before ducking past him and fleeing. I knew I wasn’t capable of stringing an intelligible sentence together, so what was the point of sticking around and embarrassing myself further? There was not a thing I could do about his soaked shirt or those documents.

I felt terrible, though. Glancing back, I wondered if I should at least have offered to buy him another coffee. But he’d already gone so that was that.

Reaching the car at last, I fumbled with the keys and ended up dropping them because my hands were still trembling from the shock of seeing Jo again. Snatching them up, I stabbed blindly at the lock and at last the door was open. I slid into the seat and sat there for a moment, trying to control my ragged breathing.

Eventually, feeling calmer, I reached for the key to start the car. But nothing happened. Panicking, I tried again.

Nothing.

And then, with a sinking heart, I remembered. I was meant to fill up with petrol on the way here, but somehow, in all the sudden birthday excitement, I’d completely forgotten. The tank was empty.

It was all too much.

Slumping over the steering wheel, I finally gave in to my emotions. Seeing Jo had brought everything back in full technicolour. The double betrayal. Gavin’s shocked face as he saw me standing there in the doorway...

I clung onto the steering wheel, great racking sobs shaking my body.

Ever since it happened, I’d been telling myself I’d be fine... that it would just take a little time to get over it... brushing it off cheerily when my parents asked me if I was all right. I think deep down, I was scared that if I gave in to the memories and allowed myself to break down and cry it all out, I might never be able to stop.

But now the floodgates were open.

I hadn’t known there was quite so much pent-up rage and anguish inside me, but it was all coming out now.

I’m not sure how long I was there and how long I sobbed. But as I was finally starting to feel a little better for it, I was suddenly aware of a noise... a tapping on the window. And when I looked up, snotty-faced and dishevelled, a familiar face was looking in.

Maddy?