hotel she booked into in the city was nondescript but it had everything she needed. Lara likened the instinct to a wounded dog crawling into a corner to lick its wounds—the trouble was a dog had better sense than to open and reopen the wound.
The concept of healing seemed a long way off. The numbness came and went in waves, and the rest of the time she was either murderously furious or depressingly self-pitying.
It wasn’t until the third day that she realised that nausea and vomiting were not just the symptoms of misery and heartache.
She couldn’t be! Life could not be that cruel. She spent the rest of the day in the small box-like room telling herself it couldn’t possibly be true.
* * *
She finally fell asleep around three a.m., wearing the red dress she’d had on when they first met—despair had made her masochistic, like an addiction that slowly killed you from the inside.
She had no idea what had made her pack it, or why she had even brought it to New York in the first place. Probably the same stupid, sentimental reason that had made her try it on the previous night.
She woke late feeling utterly wretched and no longer able to bury her head in the sand. She had to know.
The only thing she paused for on her way to the door was a painkiller, and then realised as she swallowed it that she’d accidentally taken one of the antihistamines that she used for hay fever.
Ah, well, the chemist would have something for her headache—as well as for the other thing.
She was halfway down the high street when she realised she was still wearing the dress she had slept in. Such was the sense of urgency that gripped her she didn’t even consider going back to change.
The chemist had a ladies’ room, and, rather than suffer another moment of the agony of not knowing, she used it. Then she went out, bought another testing kit, and went back in.
The result was the same.
She began to walk back to the hotel in a daze, experiencing a bitter sense of déjà vu when she missed her turning and found herself lost.
Pull yourself together, Lara! She rubbed a hand over her face, and realised the extra antihistamine was kicking in. Then, as if that weren’t enough, her path was blocked by a loud and boisterous wedding party emerging from a register office.
There was the sound of popping corks as the happy couple emerged. At least her dress blended in with the other guests. Head down, she was trying to ease her way through the group when a guest carrying an open bottle of champagne in one hand and two glasses in the other backed into her.
Lara cried out as he trod down on her foot.
He swung around, accidentally depositing half the bottle of fizz down her dress. He stood there, an appalled look on his face. ‘So sorry, I’m so sorry. Here.’ He poured some of the remaining fizz into one of the glasses he held and pushed it at her.
‘Have some, please, no hard feelings.’
It was easier and quicker to take a couple of small sips and ‘accidentally’ spill the rest rather than reject the misplaced token of generosity and apology. Lara had taken a few steps before she realised her mistake. She had barely swallowed a mouthful but with the antihistamines already in her system...she had to get back and sleep this off.
During the next five minutes the sense of urgency lessened. She was actually feeling quite mellow and then she saw—it seemed like fate—the man who had fathered her twin’s child.
He was standing at a hotel entrance but he wasn’t kissing anyone.
He’d been there for Lily, and for Emmy, and she had to thank him.
She had a memory of the look of horror on his face as she staggered over to him, but after that it was pretty much a blank. As Lily said when she sat with her before she cried herself to sleep, it was probably better that way.
THE SIGHT OF her sister the next morning made Lara feel even more of a disaster. Lily looked like the poster child for health and contentment. She was actually singing to herself; she was glowing.
‘You never could hold a tune.’
Lily put down the apple she was peeling and came across to her sister. She put her hands on Lara’s shoulders and looked into her face.
‘There’s flour on your nose. Have you gone all domestic?’
‘Not really, I just had an urge to bake. It’s very fashionable—hadn’t you heard?’
‘I’m sorry.’ Lara looked around the room. ‘Is he...?’
Lily shook her head. ‘Ben thought he’d give us some time to catch up. He’s taken Emmy to the park.’
Lara arched a satiric brow. ‘You mean he’s running scared of his lush of a sister-in-law. I only had a sip, you know...really. It just reacted with my hay-fever meds.’
‘I explained that to him. He’ll fetch your things over from the hotel. I can’t believe that you’ve been here for two days and you didn’t—’
‘I needed time to think. And I was too ashamed,’ Lara admitted. ‘I wasn’t even sure you’d want to see me. I was jealous.’
Lily nodded. ‘I kind of worked that bit out... If I’d known about the baby...you are an idiot, you know that, don’t you? I binned the dress. I hope that’s all right...?’
Her life was binned, so why not?
‘Half a bottle went down the front. I only had a sip. I promise, it was the allergy meds.’
‘I know.’
‘I don’t know why I kept the dress,’ Lara lied, then immediately confided, ‘It was what I was wearing the first time I saw Raoul. I was feeling very sorry for myself and kind of masochistic.’ She gave a gulping sob. ‘I told him I loved him.’
‘Some might say that it was about time.’
‘I just couldn’t keep it in any longer. I couldn’t pretend...he never pretended to love me but deep down I thought...hoped that he’d follow me. But he didn’t.’
‘Does he know?’
Lara lifted her head from her twin’s shoulder. ‘Know?’
‘That you’re pregnant.’ She saw her sister’s expression and shook her head, smiling. ‘No, I’m not psychic and you’re not showing. You told me last night. You told me a lot of things.’
Lara’s eyes fell. ‘No, he doesn’t,’ she murmured.
‘From what you’ve said I’m guessing he’d come running if he knew.’
Lara nodded. ‘Yes, he would. That’s what makes it so hard... I...
