And it would not go away.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
She awoke with a start, jolted by a dream or was it a misty memory that had found its way home? Whatever it was had returned with startling clarity. Molly turned on her side and lay inert on her bed as her mind played back the final hours she had spent with Shane at the hotel.
The Edwardian had looked beautiful when she first arrived. Everything had felt luxurious and private. Their secret. Their safe place. But that night, their normal was different. She was sure of it.
He had arrived late, more than an hour after her, claiming traffic had held him up on the motorway. His hair was wind-tousled as if he’d run all the way from the car park to make up time, his face tight. He kissed her cheek as he set his overnight bag and phone down, but the kiss was brief, distracted. His eyes flicked to his mobile even as he wrapped his arms around her. And where was the passion she’d been expecting? It was as though he was holding back, disinterested. Bored?
‘Rough drive?’ she asked, trying to coax a smile out of him and ignore her paranoia.
‘Something like that,’ he murmured, already thumbing at his phone screen.
Picking up that hot sex wasn’t immediately on the menu she suggested they order room service – fillet steak for him, a giant burger for her. She had picked out a bottle of red wine she thought he’d like, and they ate at the small table by the window. The view was breathtaking, a patchwork of lights from the street, apartments and office buildings stretching across the Manchester skyline.
She tried to keep the conversation light. Talked about her upcoming trip, the packing she hadn’t finished, a silly argument Dee had had with her best friend at school. Shane nodded along but said little. He barely touched his food. He kept checking his phone.
After the third time, she asked, ‘Is something wrong?’
He didn’t look up. ‘Just checking the camera. Want to make sure everything’s all right at the house. Dee came home as I left and was going to order takeaway but so far nothing has arrived.’
‘Maybe Mum’s cooking,’ she said, a frown pulling at her forehead, not liking to talk about home while they were together and becoming more irritated by the second with Shane.
He shrugged, finally locking the screen and setting the phone face-down. ‘Old habits.’
She didn’t press him, but unease had already begun to swirl in her gut. There was a coolness in him that she hadn’t seen before. Not even on the nights when they’d had to play act, in company when sharp eyes could catch a furtive look or secret touches. This was something else. Something unsettling.
She’d already showered but decided on a bath in the hope that it would untangle the tension in her body and that he might join her, her mood deepening when she heard the television in the background. When she emerged from the bathroom she ordered champagne – more out of spite because he’d be payingthe bill, she would make sure of that – and once it arrived it seemed to do the trick.
They moved to the bed later, and though he touched her the way he always had, gentle at first, then urgent – his mind wasn’t there. She could feel it. He drifted, even as he held her close. When they lay side by side afterwards, she looked over at him, following the clean-shaven angles of his face. His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. His phone was turned screen-down on the bedside table.
‘You’re a million miles away,’ she whispered.
‘Just tired.’
She’d hoped he was going to say he was sad because this was their last real night together, but those words didn’t come. Still, when she reached for his hand, he threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her closer, resting her head on his chest. And that simple gesture undid her doubts. She wanted so much to believe in him. That even though it was going to end, it hadn’t been a waste. That deep down, he wasn’t bitter and resentful of her imminent departure and, most of all, that he didn’t regret them.
Because right up until she opened her eyes to the call from the police on Friday morning, she hadn’t regretted a single moment.
And then, as if he had woken from a dream or returned from a reflective walk in the woods, as they lay together in the half-light, he spoke softly into her hair. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done without you, Molly. You’ve kept me sane. You understand me. It’s like we’re the same person.’
She had closed her eyes at the sound of his voice and melted into the warmth of his chest.
‘I’ve hated having to hide it,’ he continued, running his fingers along her spine. ‘Hated not being able to hold your hand in public. And I hate that you’ll be gone soon.’
A lump formed in her throat. ‘We could still run away,’ she whispered.
He chuckled softly. ‘Tempting. But you’ve got a future to build. Princeton, remember? You’re going to change the world and I love you too much to ask you to give that up for me.’
He always knew what to say. That she needed to hear him say those words and then let her go. What to feed her when her confidence wavered. He made her feel like the most important woman in the world. Desired. Chosen. Special.
‘Promise me,’ she said. ‘Promise this isn’t just… something that happened. That it’s a special thing, like treasure we can take out and look at now and then.’
He kissed her temple. ‘You know better than that. And you will always be my treasure, for ever and always. Nobody can take our memories away.’
And as they began to make love again, Molly had believed him.
But now, sitting on her bed, Molly was starting to see how rehearsed it all could have been. How each line was calibrated to perfection. Each touch timed precisely to appear natural. He had told her what she wanted to hear. Had it all been a strategy? Had he made love to her just hours after fighting with her mother, knowing he might never have to face Julia again?
