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A Winter’s Wish Come True
A Winter’s Wish Come True
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A Winter’s Wish Come True

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My best friend doesn’t look convinced and fixes me with a knowing stare. ‘Don’t close yourself off completely to the idea. It might not have worked out with Scott, but that doesn’t mean someone else can’t sweep you off your feet.’

I nod and pretend to agree with her as we head back towards the air base. Somewhere deep inside me, an all-too-familiar dull ache makes itself known once again. The ache that’s been here for the last year, since the man I thought was the love of my life walked away for the very last time.

*

When Emma and I get back to Silverdale, our beautiful hometown nestled in the Lancashire countryside, we make ourselves presentable and head to the Bell and Candle for a well-deserved drink.

‘Well, that’s another item you’ve ticked off your bucket list!’ she says, raising her glass of white wine in a toasting gesture. ‘You’re smashing it.’

I clink my half-empty glass of gin and tonic to her wine glass, unable to resist a grin. ‘I’ve got to admit, I really enjoyed the sky diving today. I mean, I was terrified but it was the good kind of terrified!’

I catch my grin slipping and, judging by the look on her face, so does Emma. She reaches over and touches my hand.

‘I wish Scott could’ve been there to see me do it,’ I say, my voice barely rising above a whisper. ‘He’d have been so proud.’

‘He would’ve been,’ she agrees. ‘But he’s not here anymore. He made his choice a year ago. I know it’s been hard and horrible and scary at times, but you’ve done amazingly. Look at all the stuff you’ve ticked off your bucket list – you’ve gone zorbing, learnt Italian and now you’ve completed a sky dive! Who’d have thought you’d do all those things a couple of years ago?’

I nod as I use my finger to swirl round the ice cubes in my glass, before drinking the rest of the gin and tonic. ‘I just … I thought everything had fallen into place with Scott, that’s all. We were happy, Emma, really bloody happy. Then that job offer came along and ruined everything.’

I feel an imaginary knife plunge into my heart as I remember the moment that my relationship crumbled around me. I block out the memory as quickly as I can; if I let myself think about it, it’ll consume me. And probably put a dampener on my girls’ night out with Emma.

‘Have you heard from him recently?’ she asks, trying to tread as carefully as possible. ‘I know you were in contact with him for a while.’

I shake my head. ‘Nope, he’s probably too busy enjoying Melbourne life right now. Who can blame him, really? It must be amazing out there. I’ll bet he’s surfing right now with some beautiful Australian woman who looks like Margot Robbie.’

Emma takes my empty glass from me and rises from her seat. ‘You need another drink, Miss Jones! And when I come back, we’re going to talk about how to get that sparkle of yours back. It’s not worth losing it over Scott bloody Robinson.’

She heads off towards the bar, confidence radiating from her every stride. Our entire friendship, she’s been the polar opposite of me. While I’ve struggled with my self-confidence for years, Emma has always been thoroughly comfortable in her own skin. People gravitate towards her, while I was always content with hiding in her shadow. It gave me the shelter I needed to hide myself until I felt confident enough to step into the spotlight again.

Then I did, and a beautiful man noticed me.

He loved me for who I was, and then he left.

I was afraid he would in the beginning; I was scared that he’d find something or someone he loved more than me because I’d never truly be enough for him. He managed to convince me that wouldn’t happen, and I was stupid enough to believe him.

Salty tears sting the back of my eyes and I take a deep breath to compose myself. Today’s been wonderful and I don’t want to spoil it by letting my emotions get the better of me.

Now that I’m on my own, with only my thoughts for company, I find some familiar dark thoughts circling the periphery of my mind. Mainly, they’re about the day that Scott walked away for good.

‘It’s a great opportunity for us, Cleo! You can’t seriously expect me to turn it down?’

‘You’re talking about us moving to the other side of the world Scott. We’d be leaving our families, our friends, our jobs, everything we’ve worked for behind.’

He screws his eyes shut and heaves a sigh. ‘You know, for someone who says they want to take on the world, you’re being a bloody coward about this. This is a chance for us to have a brand new start in an amazing country …’

My brain cuts the train of thought off, but I know exactly what happened next. Insults were hurled, feelings were hurt, and doors were slammed. Things were said that we’d never be able to take back and our perfect relationship was shattered forever.

In an effort to distract myself, I decide to go and see where Emma is with our next round of drinks. She’s taking longer than normal, and I hope she hasn’t got into yet another spat with Ben the barman. They split up a few months ago and things aren’t exactly amicable between them …

I leave the comfort of the pub’s snug, where our secluded little booth is, and venture out into the main bar. I see the back of Emma’s head and notice she’s in deep conversation with someone. The closer I get, the louder her voice rises above the pounding indie music blaring over the pub’s ancient speakers.

‘No, you can’t see her! You want to just swan back in here after a year and expect everything to be just as you left it? I don’t think so!’

My blood freezes. She can’t be talking to …?

‘Scott?’

I round the corner and see him leaning on the bar. He’s slightly more tanned and his hair is a bit lighter, but he’s still the same in every other way. When his eyes lock with mine, a swarm of butterflies release themselves into my stomach. My first instinct is to run to him, throw my arms around him and welcome him back. However, I decide to restrain myself and wait for his reaction first.

‘Hi,’ he says, lifting his hand in a wave.

I wait for him to say something, anything else other than ‘hi’, but nothing comes. The butterflies disappear and boiling rage takes their place.

‘That’s all you can say?’ I exclaim. ‘You’ve been away for a whole year, and all you’ve got to say is hi?! You didn’t just pop down to the shops, you moved to bloody Australia!’

He swallows hard and walks over to me, running his hands through his hair. ‘Cleo, I know I messed up and I’m sorry. There hasn’t been a day in the last year where I haven’t thought about you.’

I scoff and fold my arms across my chest, a silent warning to him not to even think about approaching me.

‘Isn’t that nice?’ I bite back. ‘I’m really glad to hear that; it makes all the times I spent wondering what I did wrong, or why I wasn’t enough for you, seem worth it. Thanks for that, Scott!’

Hurt flashes across his face and I’m ashamed to admit how satisfied it makes me feel. His face has always had a habit of betraying how he really feels. Especially those beautiful eyes of his.

‘I never should’ve left you,’ he replies, his voice cracking a little. ‘It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made and I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting it. I’m back for good now, and I’d really like to make it up to you. If you’ll let me, that is.’

I roll my eyes and let out a hollow laugh that’s laced with venom. ‘There’s no way you can possibly make this up to me, so don’t even bother trying. We’re done. Come on, Emma.’

She walks over to me with our drinks and I spin on my heel to head back to our booth. I feel his eyes burning into me and can’t resist a glance over my shoulder to look at him. To my dismay, the butterflies return as our gazes lock again. There’s a determination in his eyes that suggests he’s not going to give up on winning me back so easily.

‘God, I can’t believe he’s back,’ Emma says with a sigh. ‘Fancy just turning up to the pub like that, as if everything could just fall back into place! Cheeky bastard.’

I pick up my drink and down as much of it as I can. ‘He might’ve given me all that “I’m going to win you back” crap, but I won’t let him near me again. Trust me Emma, I’m completely through with him.’

Liar, liar, pants on fire, a little voice at the back of my mind whispers. Deep down, I know Scott and I will collide again. The magnetic pull between us felt as strong as ever when I saw him standing at the bar. There’s a sense of inevitability surrounding his grand return to Silverdale; fate will find a way to bring us back together.

It’s only a matter of time.

*

It happens, of course.

After a series of apparently ‘chance’ encounters around Silverdale, we find our way back to each other. We come together in a moment of pure heat and passion, without a thought for what the consequences might be.

‘God I’ve missed you,’ he murmurs as his lips caress my bare skin.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ I breathe, allowing the moment to sweep me away. As my entire body shivers with delight, all I can think about is right now. I don’t care what’s going to happen in the next minute, hour or day. There’s only me and Scott, right here right now.

That is, until the next morning, when I wake up alone.

Chapter One (#ulink_acd33698-27b3-58a9-9a22-c7208d9c8e00)

Eight Weeks Later

As the song goes, guess it’s true I’m not good at a one-night stand.

Eight weeks have passed since Scott and I wound up in bed together again, and it’s safe to say things haven’t been easy between us since. Well, they wouldn’t be since he buggered off before I had the chance to make post-coital tea and toast.

As I roll over, some part of me still expecting cuddles and a good morning kiss, my heart sinks. Although the other side of the bed has been empty for a good while now, I’m still not quite used to it.

I haul myself out of bed and feel a wave of nausea wash over me. It’s been there for a good few weeks now; most likely a virus that I just can’t seem to shift. Fragments of the morning after our one-night stand play in my head; waking up feeling hopeful that things would move forward between us; a dull ache in my stomach when I realised he’d legged it.

My head hurts just thinking about it.

Suddenly, a cold sweat grips me and I rush off to the bathroom to be violently sick. When it’s over, I splash some cold water over my face and take a few deep, cleansing breaths. Being sick like this brings back some unpleasant memories that I’d rather not think about.

When I move back into the bedroom, I see something at the window that makes my heart twist in my chest: Scott passing on his way to work. He stops, looks up at the window and waves. Hot tears well up in my eyes and I bite down on my lip to stop myself from crying. I turn away from the window and screw my eyes shut, knowing that he’ll probably walk away a few seconds later. We’ve been in this routine for nearly two months now and it hasn’t got any easier.

He’s tried to tell me how sorry he is for leaving so suddenly. Apparently, he had a job interview to get to and thought I might need some space after our night together to figure things out. I know he wants us to try again, but I can’t let that happen. He’s left me once already, what’s to stop him doing it again?

How on earth did my happily-ever-after go so badly wrong?

*

My mum always says there’s no better cure for a broken heart than throwing yourself into helping other people.

I hold that piece of advice entirely responsible for why I turn up an hour early for my Carb Counters meeting. As group leader, it’s my job to get the space ready, which usually only takes about five minutes at most. There really isn’t an exact science to putting chairs in a circle, after all.

My two best friends, Emma and Zara, have come along on the pretext of giving me a hand, but I know they want the gossip on Scott, and they know that I know. I’ve deliberately not told them anything, preferring to keep the details to myself. I don’t really want them to know that I woke up to an empty bed that morning eight weeks ago, and I’m not sure if that’s out of embarrassment or because I don’t want them to think badly of Scott.

‘So …’ Emma begins, her voice bright and cheerful. ‘Looking forward to tonight’s session? What workout have you got planned?’

I can’t help but smile as I move some chairs to the centre of the room. My best friend definitely wouldn’t make a good actress.

However, I decide to humour her for a minute or two. ‘I’m thinking of doing an aerobics routine. You know, really torch some calories and get everyone’s metabolism going. What do you think?’

Emma’s bright grin becomes a little more pained. She’s absolutely bursting to ask me about Scott, but doesn’t want to dive in right away. The small talk is driving her crazy; she looks like she’ll spontaneously combust any second.

‘Sounds good to me. What do you think, Zara?’

I look up just in time to see Emma shoot Zara a pointed look. There’s clearly been a discussion between them before they arrived to help me tonight.

‘Yeah!’ Her voice is loud and stilted, like she’s acting in an awful straight-to-DVD movie. ‘That sounds brilliant!’

Emma grunts in frustration and throws her hands up in the air. ‘OK, I give up. Cleo, what’s the deal with you and Scott? He came back nearly three months ago, something happened between you two and you haven’t said a word about it. You haven’t had us round to your house to drink wine, eat ice cream and gossip. In fact, you haven’t even told us what happened! Are you OK?’

I feel a lump rise in my throat and my eyes begin to water. One look at the concern on Emma’s face finishes me and I collapse onto one of the chairs, throwing my head into my hands while I sob my heart out.

Emma’s arms are around me in seconds. She pulls me in for a comforting hug as strangled wails burst from my chest.

‘Everything’s ruined,’ I sob ‘It all went so wrong.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Zara soothes, pulling up a chair next to me. ‘There isn’t much that can’t be fixed. What happened?’

I back away from Emma and wipe my eyes with my sleeve. ‘Guys, it’s really bad. We—’

Before I can tell them the gory details about my night with Scott, the door to the community centre swings open and the rest of my Carb Counters group swarm in.

‘Hiya Cleo, love!’ The group’s administrator Linda gives me a wave as she sits down to set up her moneybox and weighing scales.

‘Sorry guys,’ I murmur. ‘It’ll have to wait till later.’

*

The night is a successful one, with over two stone lost between all the group members since the last weigh-in. I beam with pride, as I get ready to do my exercise routine with them. I had some reservations about becoming a group leader at first, but it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. Each of them has their own reasons for why they want to lose a few pounds and to help them do that is a great feeling.

I step out onto the stage to greet my audience, feeling a rush of excitement as I see them. This reminds me of my days as a ballet dancer: the thrill of coming out of the wings, greeting your audience and starting your performance.

‘OK let’s get going, shall we?’ I head over to the old-fashioned boom box at the left-hand corner of the stage and switch it on. Pounding dance music blasts out and signals that it’s time to get started.

‘Let’s start with some high knees,’ I suggest.

I jog on the spot and bring my knees up as high as I can. The rest of the group follow suit, although with varying degrees of effort. The ones not giving a hundred percent don’t faze me; they’re still participating and that’s the main thing. As I prepare to switch to jumping jacks, I feel my stomach twist itself into knots and a cold sweat wash over me. My skin becomes clammy and the scene in front of me blurs for a split second. I stop for a moment to catch my breath, bending at the knees and putting my hands on my thighs.

I’m going to be sick. There are only a few minutes to go until the end, and I’m going to be sick. Great.

I will the feeling to pass, for my stomach to stop spinning like a tumble dryer, but it doesn’t. If anything, it gets worse.

‘Everything OK?’ Zara asks, shouting to be heard above the blaring music. ‘You look a bit—’

I don’t hear anything that follows. The world around me goes fuzzy then I fall to the floor. Everything goes black.

*

When I wake up, I’m lying on a hospital bed. Fear grips me and I sit bolt upright. How on earth did I get here? My head spins and my vision goes in and out of focus. I feel myself sink back onto the pillow and screw my eyes shut. Something feels wrong; the nausea from earlier today has made a very unwelcome return and I’ve obviously not at the hospital for no reason.

‘Hey, you’re awake!’ Emma pops into view, holding a cup of takeaway coffee in her hands. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘How … how did I get here?’ I ask, slowly pushing myself up. ‘What happened?’

Her face falls and she takes my hand. ‘You fainted, Cleo, right as the workout was getting started. Don’t you remember?’

The memory slowly trickles back into my mind and I can suddenly remember hitting the deck in front of everybody. My cheeks heat up and I cover my face with my hands.

‘Oh god,’ I groan, ‘I remember now. I hope I didn’t frighten everyone too much.’

Emma shakes her head and smiles. ‘Sheila said she felt a bit funny, but that’s about it! Are you feeling better?’

I nod my head. ‘I suppose so. I was sick earlier today and that’s kind of come back now, but I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out again.’