She gave a thought to Brody at his in-laws’; and to Ben, who was probably celebrating their happy news with his new partner’s family or was cosied up with Naomi. Her stomach knotted. The past couple of days had brought so many emotions to the surface. Seeing a new life born in front of her eyes had reminded Sophie that she’d once hoped to have a family with Ben. And Brody had been so great with the Nowaks’ kids.
He’d been great in so many ways. Capable, strong, kind, gorgeous … yet she must harden her bruised heart again.
She’d put him on a pedestal he didn’t deserve.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
‘There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ Tegan said as they returned to Felltop Farm later that evening, after spending Boxing Day with her family.
Brody wished he felt the same.
He locked the front door behind him. ‘It’s good to be home,’ he sighed, relieved that he didn’t have to keep up the pretence any longer.
Brody’s mother had joined them for lunch and he’d made a big effort to set aside his misgivings and make the day as happy as possible. Tegan had played her part too, although they’d both been reminded of how fragile her father’s health was. Brody felt his mind was elsewhere, constantly drifting off to thoughts of Sophie and wondering how she was getting on.
‘I think I’ll make a tea,’ Tegan cut into his thoughts. ‘Do you want one?’
‘Yes. Thanks. I need a shower first.’
Brody showered in his en suite as quickly as he could, hoping the effect of the warm water and his previous broken nights would result in a swift and deep sleep later on. He walked into the bedroom to find Tegan sitting on the end of the bed in silk pyjamas and a robe.
‘You shouldn’t be in here,’ he said, acutely aware of being naked.
‘Why not?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘It’s not as if I haven’t seen it all before.’
‘Because … you know why. What would Wes say?’ he added, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
‘I’m not thinking about Wes,’ she whispered, standing up and trying to move closer to him.
Brody walked around the other side of the bed, reaching for a pair of little-used pyjama bottoms from the chest of drawers.
Tegan looked intently at him. ‘Don’t you normally sleep naked?’
Keen not to make a big thing of it, he laughed. ‘The farmhouse does tend to be cold this time of year, if you hadn’t noticed.’ To emphasise the fact, he pulled on a sweatshirt. ‘I thought you were making a drink?’
She sighed and played with her hair. ‘I came in to ask if you wanted anything with it. Brandy? Whisky? Now you’re off-duty you can relax.’
That was impossible, Brody thought. He hadn’t truly relaxed for days, weeks – maybe even longer, since he’d been part of this charade. Apart from at the lantern parade, and at the party with Sophie. She made him feel good about himself and they got on so well, having gone through similar experiences. ‘No, thanks. Just the coffee will be fine. I’ll come down now,’ he added firmly, keen to get rid of Tegan.
When he got downstairs, Tegan was curled up on the sofa. ‘What did you think of Dad then?’ she asked. ‘I wasshocked when I saw him. He’s looking thinner and like he hasn’t slept. He didn’t eat much dinner, either.’
‘He’s probably worried about the surgery. That’s understandable,’ Brody reasoned.
Tegan stretched and yawned. And at that point her phone rang. She pressed her lips together. ‘Sorry. I need to get this.’
She walked off, and he heard the stairs creak under her hurried footsteps. ‘OK, Wes. Just because you’re three thousand miles away doesn’t mean you need to shout!’
He stayed in the snug longer than he’d intended, keen to avoid overhearing Tegan’s conversation with her boyfriend. He neither wanted to hear them arguing nor getting ‘lovey-dovey’, both of which only brought him pain and made him feel helpless. Tegan might have hurt him and no longer be a part of his romantic life, but he still cared about her as a friend. He couldn’t bear to think of her throwing her life away on a man who was clearly an absolute tosser.
Harold deigned to shift himself from the carpet and licked his hand, and Brody realised how cold he’d grown in the unheated room.
‘OK, boy. Hint taken. Let’s go up to bed.’
‘Harold! Harold! Come back here!’
It was a hopeless cause. Harold hared off across the field towards Sunnyside.
‘Ha-Rold!’ Brody bellowed, but by now the Labrador was out of earshot. Brody had taken him for a walk as soon as the sun was up. A few drifts of snow had stubbornly stuck around, but mostly the fields were slushy and muddy.Harold was already filthy and also wildly over-excited to be out. All the strange people, smells and disruption of his routine had turned him into an unruly toddler again, not the four-year-old almost-sensible dog he’d become.
