The Midwife's One-Night Fling by Carol Marinelli

Author:Carol Marinelli
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-03-07T20:34:43+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

FIRST CLASS.

It felt incongruent to Freya that she should lug her broken heart back to London in style, but she’d learnt a few tricks, having made the journey so often, and, given it was Sunday and there was a spare seat, she’d got a cheap upgrade.

Freya wasn’t just lugging her heart home, though.

She had thought hard about what Richard had said about her never having given London a chance, and she had spoken about it to Alison too, when she’d visited.

‘I’m torn,’ Freya had admitted. ‘If I stay it will only be because of him. And what happens when he decides it’s not working out? He won’t even talk to me about it. No.’ She’d shaken her head. ‘This is home.’

‘Well, why don’t you try and make London home for a while?’ Alison had suggested.

‘That’s where I’m headed tomorrow.’ Freya had given her friend’s stomach a tender caress. ‘If this wee one behaves.’

Between visits to her friend Freya had braved the cellar of her home and filled up some cases.

The coffee machine would have to wait. It was simply too heavy. But she had packed some rugs and photos and ornaments, and now she sat on the train with her luggage stowed as a tall woman pushed the buffet cart to the side of her table.

An elderly lady stirred nearby and gave Freya a smile as she selected a Ploughman’s sandwich and a bag of crisps and then promptly fell back to sleep.

Freya was grateful for the silent carriage, for there was only the lulling movement of the train and the stunning countryside to take the edge off the frequent barbs of her thoughts.

Richard’s words had stung so much because they were true. Freya hadn’t set out to hurt him, yet inadvertently she had.

And so she looked at her phone, which was on silent, and this time there was no thought of Russian emojis or tartan berets.

This time her text was from the heart.

I never thought I would feel the way I do about you.

* * *

While he sat in his gorgeous apartment, surrounded by tiny pieces of Freya—a silk scarf over his sofa, a pair of earrings on his table—knowing that there was some of her washing in the tumble dryer, he read her second text.

Does it have to be all or nothing?

Her question was both sensible and ridiculous.

Sensible because they’d been seeing each other for just a couple of months, and it was too early in the piece to be speaking of career and country moves. Ridiculous because they both knew how they felt.

Richard texted back.

Can you see yourself staying in London?

Freya answered.

I don’t know.

* * *

Freya had answered, but sensed that now wasn’t the time to lie.

She looked out of the window as the train slowed down and they arrived at Berwick-upon-Tweed. She recalled being in his car as they crossed the border. The feeling of being home.

And then, as they left Berwick-upon-Tweed behind, she felt torn from the land of her heart. No, she could not see herself permanently in London.

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