then, once they were settled and there was nothing left to fidget with, there was a silence that was so full of unspoken words it was like a roar in his head. And he had to break it or go mad.
‘So—you came back to Penhally,’ he said, trying to find something neutral to talk about and failing dismally at the first hurdle.
She glanced away, but not before he’d seen a shadow in her eyes. ‘Yes. I love it here.’
Especially when he wasn’t there. His mouth tipped in a mocking smile. ‘I thought it was too small for you? Too pedestrian. Too provincial. Wasn’t that why you left to see the world and didn’t come back?’
Hardly. It was the place where her heart was, where she’d found a love she’d thought would last forever, but she couldn’t tell him that or she’d have to tell him why she’d gone, so she just gave him a level look and lied in her teeth.
‘You know why I left—to go travelling while I considered my career options. And you can talk about leaving to see the world, Sam. It’s me who’s living here now. You’ve hardly been home.’
‘Et tu, Brute? Isn’t this where you tell me that I’ve failed my mother and failed my brother and ought to move home like a good little boy? Well, news flash, Gemma. I’ve got a life now, and it’s not here. And it never will be.’ Thanks to her. His jaw tightened, and she felt a stab of pain for him, and for herself.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘It’s none of my business. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you should come home for your mother or your brother. You did more than enough for them, Sam, and you’ve got two sisters who don’t live a million miles away who could be putting more into this than they are. But maybe you should think about coming home for you.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, what is it about Penhally and everyone telling me what to do?’
‘I wasn’t telling you—’
‘Weren’t you? Well, it sounded like it from where I’m sitting.’
Or maybe that was his conscience, he thought, guilt racking him yet again for the hurt look he’d put in her eyes.
‘I don’t want to go into this. I brought you here to talk about my mother’s stroke, not me,’ he said after a moment in which they’d both taken a deep breath and regrouped. ‘I gather you found her last night?’
She met his eyes squarely, her own still reproachful. ‘Yes—she came in the day before yesterday to see me for a routine blood-pressure check, and she mentioned that she’d noticed her heart doing something funny in the evening a couple of times. I had a word with Adam—Adam Donnelly, one of our doctors—and he suggested we should do an ECG and then refer her to St Piran for some tests.’
‘And?’
‘I did the ECG yesterday, and there was nothing out of the ordinary at all, but I was just a bit worried about her. Her blood pressure was up again, and—I don’t know, she just didn’t seem right. And she looked a bit strained around the eyes. So after work I popped in. There was no reply to the doorbell, so I went round the back and opened the door because I could hear Digger whining, and I found her at the kitchen table, looking chalky grey and sweaty and feeling terrible. And she had a killer headache, apparently, and she said she’d had some kind of convulsion, but I noticed her mouth was drooping a bit and then she just lost her speech. It was a classic stroke, so I called Nick and got the ambulance on its way, and alerted the specialist unit, and—well, I don’t know how she is now. I went in with her last night because Jamie wasn’t around and I didn’t want her to be alone, but I haven’t had time to get up there again. I was going to go and see her in my lunch break but I thought you might be there, and then there was the careers evening so I just haven’t had a chance. So how is she? Really? She must have been so frightened.’
He nodded slowly. ‘I think so. But who wouldn’t be? It’s a really big thing, isn’t it, and it could have been so much worse if you hadn’t checked on her. I hate to think what would have happened if you hadn’t. It sounds as if your prompt action’s made a huge difference to the impact of her stroke, and if you hadn’t gone in—well, talking to the staff it’s clear that without immediate help she could easily have died, so thank you. She sends you her love, by the way. She seems very fond of you.’
Gemma gave a soft, wry little laugh. ‘I can’t imagine why. I bully her dreadfully.’
‘She needs it. So—about this heart thing…’
‘Mmm. I mean, obviously it hasn’t been investigated properly yet, but I was wondering—do you think she could have some kind of AF?’
‘Atrial fibrillation? Could well be. It would fit. I just can’t understand how she hasn’t felt it in her chest before, if she’s got AF and it’s sustained enough that she’s forming clots. You’d think you’d feel it if your heart’s not beating right.’
‘Not everyone does feel it, though, and atrial fibrillation is notoriously tricky to control.’
‘Especially if you OD on stimulants like tea and coffee and very dark chocolate. It’s always given her the odd palpitation, and maybe it’s just accustomed her to a funny heartbeat from time to time, and then the AF doesn’t feel so very different—’
‘Steak frites and beef Stroganoff?’
‘Thanks, Tony,’ Sam said, leaning back so the landlord could put their plates down. He paused to welcome Sam back.
‘Good to see you again. How are things? Sorry about your mother.’
‘Thanks,’ he said, feeling a little awkward because clearly everyone knew about her, recognised him and also recognised the fact that he’d been notable by his absence. Then he chatted to Gemma for a few moments, and while he listened to them, Sam watched her, her face attentive, her eyes crinkling with humour when Tony made a joke, and all the time her lips were moving, soft and warm, bare of lipstick but moist from the occasional flick of her tongue, and it was getting increasingly difficult to sit there and pretend that he felt nothing for her, this woman who’d torn his heart apart.
His wife, for heaven’s sake.
Then Tony moved away, and he turned his attention to his food, and for a while they were both silent. Then she lifted her head and said, ‘You know you made that remark about David having a death wish because he wanted to go to Africa? What did you mean?’
He shrugged. ‘It was just a joke.’
‘No. You meant something, and you said you’d told him not to go, and when you were talking to Fred just now about the accident—what happened, Sam?’ she asked softly. ‘Did you really just fall off your bike?’
He sighed and set down his fork. ‘Really? In a manner of speaking,’ he said, and then bluntly, because he still wanted to lash out, he went on, ‘I hit a landmine.’
Her face bleached of colour, and he caught her glass just as it slipped through her fingers. ‘Careful, anybody would think you still cared, and we all know that’s not true,’ he said with bitter irony.
She sat back, her eyes filling, and closed them quickly, but not quickly enough because a single tear slipped down her cheek and that old guilt thing kicked in again. ‘Actually I was thinking of your mother—how she would
