Hope Blooms in Tuppenny Bridge (Tuppenny Bridge #5)

Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

Dinner smelled delicious as Noah stirred the Bolognese sauce before glancing at the clock. Isobel should be home any moment. He’d better drain the spaghetti.

He wished he could say he was looking forward to eating his share of the meal, but he wasn’t. There was something bothering him. Something he didn’t want to think about too closely.

As he dished the meal onto two plates, his stomach turned upon hearing the front door open and close. Isobel came into the kitchen, her face bright. His heart lifted a little and he thought maybe he’d got it all wrong after all.

‘Just in time,’ he said, smiling. ‘Unless you want to get a shower first? I can keep it warm for you if you do.’

‘Oh! You made it. You absolute star!’ She beamed at him, and he relaxed. ‘No, it’s okay. I think I’ll have a shower afterwards. I really can’t wait for this another moment.’

‘You go into the dining room, and I’ll bring it to you,’ he offered.

She nodded and headed into the dining room, while Noah sprinkled some parmesan on the Bolognese and carried the two plates through. Isobel was sitting at the head of the table, which he’d already set in advance, and he put her meal in front of her.

‘Oh no! Don’t sit over there,’ she said, as he turned to sit at the opposite end of the table. ‘Come and sit next to me.’ She patted the chair and, trying to quell the nerves that had suddenly returned, he did as she requested.

‘Shall I pour the wine?’ she offered. Before he could answer she reached for the bottle he’d put on the table earlier and poured them both two full glasses of red wine.

‘What a day!’ She leaned back in her chair, making no attempt to eat, and sipped her wine thoughtfully. ‘Isn’t it awful about Kat’s pram? Who on earth would do such a thing?’

‘I have no idea,’ he said quietly. ‘There are some strange people about.’

‘There certainly are.’ She hesitated. ‘Maybe it was Hattie’s father. Maybe he’s back on the scene and he’s angry that Jonah’s raising her as his own, and that they’re having another baby. What do you think?’

Noah frowned. ‘I wouldn’t have thought so.’

‘Wouldn’t you? Why? Do you know who the father is?’ she asked, leaning closer to him.

Noah tried to wrap the spaghetti around his fork, but his trembling hands made it almost impossible. ‘No idea,’ he said.

‘Do you know,’ Isobel told him, her eyes wide, ‘Kat actually told us at her baby shower that he was an anonymous donor from a sperm clinic! Can you believe that? Did she really think we’d fall for such a ludicrous story? She must think we’re stupid.’

Noah said nothing, deciding it was best all round if he kept his mouth shut.

‘I reckon she’s lying when she says she doesn’t know who bought her that pram. I mean, come off it, Kat! Someone buys you a top of the range pram and leaves it on your doorstep and you have no idea who it’s from? As if! What I think is the baby’s father bought it for her, and she can’t say anything because—oh, I don’t know—he’s married or something. What do you think?’

‘If Kat says she doesn’t know I don’t see why she’d lie,’ he said faintly.

‘Don’t you?’ She took another large gulp of wine. ‘Don’t you, Noah? Really?’ She got to her feet, slamming the glass on the table. ‘Well, I’ll show you one good reason she might keep her mouth shut, shall I?’

He watched in alarm as she hurried over to the windowsill, where she’d dumped her handbag for some reason, instead of hanging it up in the hall as she usually did. She rummaged around inside it and returned to the table, slapping something down beside his plate.

Noah stared at it and genuine dread unfurled deep within his stomach.

A piece of paper that he’d forgotten all about.

‘Do you know what that is?’ she demanded, jabbing it with her finger.

He swallowed. ‘Yes.’

‘What is it, Noah?’ she asked. When he said nothing, she bent over, her face inches from his, and hissed, ‘I asked you a question. What is it?’

‘A—a receipt.’

‘A receipt. And where is it from?’

He closed his eyes for a moment. ‘From J-Johnson’s Baby Store in Kirkby Skimmer.’

‘Th-that’s r-right,’ she said scornfully. ‘And can you see what the receipt is for?’

He didn’t even have to look. ‘For a pram,’ he said heavily.

She snatched up the receipt and glared at it. ‘Not just any pram, Noah. A very special pram. A very expensive pram. Paid for with cash, funnily enough. Any idea how that could have happened?’

His heart was hammering in his chest. ‘It’s not what you think,’ he told her.

‘Really? So why was this receipt hidden away in your desk drawer? Why did you never tell me about it? And why did you buy a bloody pram for Katherine Pennyfeather in the first place? Do you really think I’m that stupid? How dare you take me for a fool?’

If she’d shouted, he’d have been less worried, but he knew that quiet, menacing tone. Before he could gather his thoughts, she grabbed her plate and tipped the spaghetti Bolognese all over his head.

‘That’s all that’s fit for. I really couldn’t believe how easy it was to get you to make it for me. I had a lovely hour at work imagining doing this to you as soon as I got home.’

Noah got to his feet. ‘If you’d just listen to me! It’s not what you think. I’m not Hattie’s father!’

She wasn’t even listening, and he saw the darkness in her eyes and knew she’d made up her mind.

‘Stop lying! You paid for it in cash because you know I check your credit card receipts. How sneaky and underhanded can you be? Does Jonah know? Is this some big secret you’ve all been keeping from me? Or is he as much in the dark about it as I was? Although, you weren’t as clever as you think. I had my suspicions from the start. Oh, how long I’ve wondered! While those old crones were taking bets on who the father was, I’ve wanted to scream. You always did like her, didn’t you? Even when we were teenagers hanging out together at Monk’s Folly. You always fancied her. Don’t try to deny it.’

The injustice of her accusations took his breath away. He stared at her, unable to comprehend her thinking.

‘Don’t you dare look at me like that!’ Enraged she snatched up the wine bottle and slammed it against his side, dark red wine spattering over the table and floor like blood.

He gasped and headed quickly into the kitchen, spaghetti and sauce dripping from him, his ribs aching. He grabbed some kitchen paper and tried to clean himself up at the sink, but Isobel was at his side within moments.

‘How long was it going on, eh? How long were you screwing that bitch? Go on, tell me!’

‘I never—it wasn’t like that. Kat was just a friend, nothing more.’

‘A friend you love so much you’re willing to spend over a thousand pounds on a pram for her brat? Your brat! Admit it! Go on, I dare you!’

Noah shook his head. ‘Hattie’s not mine,’ he repeated dully, knowing she wasn’t even listening, and he had no chance of convincing her.

Isobel’s eyes ranged over the draining board and her gaze fell on the pan he’d cooked the Bolognese in. He’d filled it with soapy water, leaving it to soak.

She grabbed the handle, tipped the water out of it, and swung it down between his shoulder blades. He lurched forward, gasping, as the breath was knocked from his body. He barely had time to register what had happened before she hit him again, on his shoulder this time. He fell to the floor as she hurled obscenities at him, telling him what a waste of space he was and how much she hated him, her sentences punctuated with another swing of the pan.

He wasn’t sure how long it was before she finally dropped her chosen weapon and strolled to the door.

‘I’m going for a shower,’ she said coldly. ‘Make sure the dining room is tidy when I come downstairs, or else.’

The door closed and he slumped against the sink unit, dazed and shocked.

But not surprised. No, he’d known the minute she started talking about Kat what was coming. Even if she hadn’t found that receipt, she’d have found some reason to accuse him. And once he’d realised that was in her head, he’d known there was no avoiding what was coming for him.

It wasn’t as if it was the first time after all.

Somehow, he pulled himself to his feet and leaned on the draining board, trying to take deep breaths even though his ribs throbbed, and he felt like he’d been hit by a bus. He couldn’t think about it now. He had to get the kitchen and dining room cleaned up, because if it wasn’t and she came downstairs and saw the mess…

Her temper might be washed away in the shower. It sometimes happened that way. She might come downstairs in ten or fifteen minutes, smiling and pretending nothing had ever happened. There wouldn’t be an apology. They’d stopped years ago. But there wouldn’t be another attack.

On the other hand, she might come downstairs angrier than ever, spoiling for another fight. God help him if she was in that mood today. He couldn’t give her any more ammunition.

He closed his eyes, wincing at the pain, but realising he had no choice. Better get on with the cleaning then.

The message from Noah on Saturday morning was brief and to the point:

Sorry, really not feeling up to a hike tomorrow. Another time?

Daisy stared at the screen of her phone, then pushed it into the pocket of her apron, a sinking feeling of disappointment in her stomach. Oh well, if he didn’t want to meet up with her…

Maybe Isobel had changed her mind about visiting her mother? Or maybe Noah had had second thoughts about spending time with Daisy after all? It was fine if he had, she told herself. She’d understand. Except, he could have been honest with her.

‘Right,’ she said aloud, aware that she was, for the moment, alone in the café kitchen. ‘That’s good. No, really, it is. The flat needs a good clean anyway. I’ll have a productive Sunday at home, polishing and hoovering. And I can get some baking done if I have enough time.’

What she wasn’t going to do was sit around moping about Noah. No way. It wasn’t as if they were in a relationship. Just friends, they’d agreed. She’d done her share of pining for someone who couldn’t give her what she needed. She wasn’t going down that road again. She’d be fine. She didn’t ask herself why the thought of going hiking on her own—something she’d done many times—held no appeal now.

At home that evening she was just about to take a shower when her phone—which had been infuriatingly silent all day since Noah’s message—beeped.

Daisy’s heart leapt and she closed her eyes, knowing she’d been lying to herself. It mattered that he’d cancelled their plans. Noah mattered. He shouldn’t but there it was. Too late to protect herself now.

She snatched up the phone from where she’d thrown it on her bed and read the message:

I was wondering if you fancied a trip to the coast for a change? Just a lazy day by the beach, chilling out. It’s been a tiring week at work, and it would be good just to relax. x

Hating herself for her weakness, Daisy found herself immediately responding.

That sounds great. Not been to the coast for ages. Where were you thinking? x

It was almost half an hour before he replied, by which time Daisy had showered and changed into her pyjamas and was now sitting on the armchair in her living room, flicking mindlessly through the television channels.

Starfish Sands. Do you know it? x

Daisy frowned.

Never heard of it! x

Another quarter of an hour, then:

You’ll love it. It’s very private. Meet me at the usual place at ten tomorrow. Don’t bother with lunch. We’ll eat out. My treat. x

It’s very private . That, more than anything, was what leapt out at Daisy. She put her phone on the arm of her chair and curled up, hugging her knees.

They weren’t having an affair, and in the three months since they’d started this relationship, they’d only exchanged two kisses, and had agreed nothing more could come of it until he was a free man. Yet still, this had an unsavoury feeling to it. She couldn’t deny it made her feel ashamed, somehow, even though technically she’d done nothing wrong.

‘You could break Isobel’s heart,’ Bethany had warned her.

Daisy didn’t like Isobel. She couldn’t pretend that she did. Even so, she’d never deliberately set out to hurt another woman in that way, and she didn’t want to be responsible for causing Isobel so much pain. She knew Noah felt the same, but where did that leave them?

He would either have to hurt his wife or call an end to this—whatever it was—with Daisy. He couldn’t have them both, and she had a feeling this was torture for him already. There’d been a stricken look in his eyes the other day when he’d been outside the café. Obviously, he’d been as shocked as they all were over what had happened to Kat’s pram, but there’d been something else. A look she couldn’t quite decipher.

And it had been horrible seeing him with Isobel, she couldn’t deny that. How much longer could this go on? Right now, she was in limbo, not sure which way this was going to go, and worse, not sure which way she wanted it to go. She really, really liked Noah. Maybe if she’d allow herself to, she would say she loved him. But did she want to be responsible for breaking someone’s heart? No. No she didn’t. So, what was the solution?

‘Call it off now before it’s too late,’ she murmured. ‘Text him back and tell him you can’t make it. This isn’t fair on any of you.’

It’s already too late. I can’t do it. I can’t let him go.

Gulping down tears, Daisy picked up her phone.

Sounds great. I’ll see you tomorrow x

I’ll tell him then, she thought. When we’re face to face. I can’t let him down with a text.

Liar.

Daisy put down the phone, knowing the time was coming when she’d have to make a decision, because she couldn’t imagine Noah ever making it for them.

One day at a time.

It was all she could deal with right now.