Wednesday's Child Page 4

  Liam shifted slightly in his seat. He really didn’t want to discuss marriage and its pros or cons tonight. He was as alone as she seemed to be. He changed the subject. “You said you worked abroad. What did you do?”

  “I spent six months in Africa, doing design work for a mission in a remote area...”

  Africa? His breath caught fading her voice into the background. Did she know I was there?

  Then reason took over. Africa was a huge continent, made up of at least fifty countries—more if you include the ones that are technically part of Europe, even though they are on the African plate. She probably wasn’t even in the same country as him.

  Her voice resurfaced. “…and then the company funding the project ran out of money, and we had to come home before we finished.”

  He picked up his coaster turning it over on its side and twisting it end over end on the table. “Know how that is. The credit crunch is affecting everything. Which mission?”

  “One of the small ones in Botswana. A group of us were sent out by my church.” Her fingers went to her necklace.

  That was the second time she’d mentioned church in as many minutes. His gaze followed the movement of her hands as she toyed with the necklace. “It’s pretty.”

  “Thanks. My parents gave it to me for my birthday.”

  The drinks came, and he set his coaster back down on the table. He smiled at the waitress. “Thank you.” He picked up his glass and sipped the soda, turning his attention back to Jacqui. “So tell me about yourself.”

  Her fingers drew lines in the condensation on her glass. “There’s not much to tell. I’m a landscape architect. I have a bungalow, a cat, and a car.”

  “No brothers or sisters?”

  “Nope, just me.”

  “What about your parents? Are they local?”

  She paused for several seconds. Were her parents a touchy subject? She took a deep breath, her fingers crushing the glass in her right hand. “They died in the Whitgate train crash last year.”

  Liam reached across the table and took her left hand, wishing he hadn’t asked. “I’m sorry.”

  “I blamed myself for a while.”

  He frowned. “I’m sorry? How can the train crash be your fault? I thought it was caused by the driver taking the bend too fast.” No sooner than the words fell from his lips, than he immediately brought himself up sharply. That’s rather hypocritical isn’t it? You blame yourself for Sally’s death even though you didn’t pull the trigger.

  Jacqui didn’t meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with tears. “They were coming home from holiday. Normally we’d have all gone, but I had to work and needed the car. That’s why they were on the train. I was waiting on the platform for them, and I saw the whole accident.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” The spear in his soul dug deeper seeing her tears threatening to fall. He’d made her cry.

  Her teeth worried her bottom lip as she spoke, her gaze fixed on the glass. “The train came around the bend at full speed. It started to tilt and kept going. It derailed, and the carriages crashed into each other, piling up like a heap of matchsticks. Their carriage ended on the platform. It stopped only yards from where I was standing.”

  He squeezed her hand, and then rubbed his thumb over the back of it. He hoped the simple touch would offer some modicum of comfort. He knew what it was like to lose someone close to you. Someone that you loved more than life itself. And just as people didn’t know what to say around him, he, too, found himself lost for words.

  “I thought I was going to die. You know those dreams when you’re rooted to the spot and can’t move. It was like that. I just stood there, watching the train come hurtling towards me, every muscle in my body frozen.”

  He waited for her to meet his gaze before speaking. “I’m really sorry for your loss. The TV coverage was horrendous, but to have been there and known those involved must have been far worse.”

  She bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment. “It was rough for a while, but they say time heals, and I have my memories of them.”

  “Sometimes that’s all we have left.”

  “You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience.”

  I don’t need this. Why is fate throwing us together like this? It’s a simple apology over dinner. I don’t want or need another woman in my life. The coincidences—for that was the only word for them—were piling up. She had worked on the same continent and had lost her family. Only difference was he still had his twin sister, his parents and his elder brother.

  “Mr. Page?” Her soft voice brought him back to the conversation.

  “Yes. I uh... I lost someone I cared about.”

  “Was it someone close?” She broke off. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask.”

  He took a long drink and set the glass down, shaking his head. “It’s all right. Just something I’m having trouble coming to terms with.”

  “It must have been something pretty bad.”

  Perhaps she’d understand. After all she’d been there. His brother and his twin sister, whilst they did what they could, they didn’t really know, couldn’t possibly know what it was like. The soul wrenching loss that encompassed every part of you, swallowed you, up and never spat you out. Miss Dorne’s tears showed him that she knew; that she was acquainted with the darkness of grief.

  “Yeah, it was. It was my—”

  “Here you go,” The waitress came over with the pizza and Liam broke off, the moment gone. He let her serve them and waited until she left before smiling at Jacqui. “Bon appétit.”

  “Thank you. So, you know about me and I know almost nothing about you. That doesn’t seem very fair. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  He picked up a slice. “Yes, I have one of each. My sister, actually she’s my twin sister, Niamh. Not that we share the same birthday. I was born ten minutes before midnight, and she was born ten minutes after. We tend to celebrate on the same day though. Most years we use mine and every fourth year we use hers. She’s adamant her age only increases every four years as she was born on February twenty-ninth. She’s a barrel of laughs when she’s not working. Then she’s just scary in that black outfit and white wig of hers.”

  “Sounds intriguing.”

  “She’s a hot-shot barrister for the Crown Prosecution Service. Senior prosecutor or something like that. To hear her tell it, criminals tremble when they hear she’s prosecuting them and either admit their guilt or run for the hills. My brother Patrick works in security. Mum and Dad live the other side of town. I have a small one bedroom ground floor maisonette, no cats, and no dogs. I like riding, hate football, and love teaching.” He avoided mentioning Sally.

  “Hate football? Do you prefer rugby?”

  “I enjoy watching rugby. I can’t play it any longer, knee injury. But I prefer tennis anyway. I’m pretty good at it, or I used to be. Haven’t played in a while. Niamh and Patrick have never beaten me, although they both spent years trying.”

  “And you’re modest with it.” Jacqui teased him. “I always wanted a brother or sister. Must have been fun growing up. Are you the eldest, youngest?”

  “I rank second. Patrick’s the eldest, then me, then Niamh.” He paused. “We hale from Belfast originally. We moved here when I was ten. We all kept our accents.”

  “So being Irish, I’d guess you’d be Catholic?”

  He shook his head and studied the pizza in his hand. What was it with her and religion?

  “Irish, yes. Catholic no. We lived in the protestant side of Belfast, but I’m not anything. God and I aren’t on speaking terms anymore, and I can’t see that changing.”

  “What happened, Liam?”

  He could feel her gaze on him without looking up. It was as if she could see inside him. Her x-ray vision tearing at his soul, unburying and breaking open the casket of grief and black memories.

  Why had he asked about her family and what happened? It was only natural she’d want to know about his
and Sally is…was such an integral part of that. Liam stared at the pizza, not wanting this conversation, but at the same time knowing he had to answer her question. His gaze shifted to his wedding ring. He gave a long sigh.

  “Sally.” His tone was blunt. He needed to keep in control here. He twisted the ring digging it into the skin at the base of his finger, the pain jolting the memories from his mind.

  “Sally? Is she your wife?”

  “Was. She was my wife.”

  Her brow furrowed. And she tilted her head as if prompting him for more. How did she do that? He’d successfully not spoken of Sally for over a year. Not even Niamh had managed to get him to express his grief and here in the space of less than an hour Jacqui had him wanting to pour out his soul.

  She gave a reassuring smile. Jacqui had lost her parents, she too was grieving. She would understand. At least he hoped she would. And if she didn’t, well it wasn’t like he was going to see her again.

  “She looked a little like you, only her hair was blonde. Maybe it was just the fact she also wore a cross around her neck, too. I’m sorry. I’m meant to be apologizing for ruining your laptop and all your work. Instead here I am telling you—”

  Jacqui’s hand covered his. “It’s fine. Go on.”

  He took a deep breath. “It’s ironic. Niamh wanted me to go see a shrink and talk. Needless to say I refused. Yet, you…I hardly know you and something…” his voice trailed off.

  “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who knows what it’s like.” Her soft tone encouraged him. “Someone who’s walking the same path you are.”

  Liam held her gaze and inclined his head a fraction. Was he as easy to read as a book? “Sally and I had been married for three years. Eighteen months ago, we went to Endarra to work in the mission there. She’d always wanted to be a missionary, so we saved every penny we had and got accepted by a mission society for short term work. If we liked it, we decided we’d do it full time. It would be an adventure, a way to serve God and teach English to kids who wouldn’t otherwise learn it.” He bit his lip.

  Jacqui squeezed his hand. “If it’s too hard you don’t have to tell me.”

  “No, I...I haven’t even told Niamh all the details. Actually…you’ll be the first.”

  “Then I’m honored.” A slight smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “It seems to be a day for firsts. I’ve never spoken about my parents’ deaths either.”

  He swallowed hard. That made them even. And it helped a little. “It was the end of our second week. Sally loved it there. She loved the scenery, the people, the kids, everything about the place. She’d wake each morning with a smile on her face, a song in her heart and a prayer on her lips. She loved telling the kids about God and how Jesus died to save them. She was in her element. It was mid-morning—a Friday. All the kids sat at her feet listening to her. She’d just finished teaching them the song about the wise man who built his house upon a rock with the actions and was telling them the Bible story to go with it.”

  Liam paused, feeling his muscles tense as if anticipating the wounds. “Gunmen burst into the compound. We had a couple of guns for protection, but we couldn’t get to them. Sally stood in front of the kids and tried to reason with the men, but they…they killed her. They fired at random,” his voice roughened. “I…I was shot three times. I tried to reach her…”

  Jacqui didn’t say a word. Her face wore an expression of horror and the same grief he saw every morning in his mirror. She knew about witnessing the death of those one loved.

  “Sally died in my arms,” he struggled to keep the raw emotion out of his voice. “The British Embassy shipped the survivors home once the local hospital had patched us up enough to fly. I should have taken better care of her, and God should have protected His missionaries.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I haven’t spoken to God since. Don’t see the point. He doesn’t care for me, so why should I care for Him?” Liam felt pressure and clenched his jaw tight. Now she knew. He was a failure.

  Taking a deep breath, he pushed his chair back. “I’ll be right back.” Getting up, he headed for the men’s room. He just need a moment to breathe, to recompose himself, to tamp down the anger and self-loathing that threatened to spill over every time he thought about Sally and how he failed her.

  ****

  Jacqui watched him go and buried her face in her hands. His story was heartbreaking, his pain so palpable it threatened to overwhelm her. She’d lost her parents—her bedrock and entire family yes, but he’d lost his soul mate and his faith. He was truly alone.

  Jacqui felt the lump in her throat, and touched the cross there, knowing she still had God.

  “Jacqui?” Holly’s gentle voice made her look up. A pair of concerned filled eyes stared at her and a tissue pressed into her hand. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did he make you cry?”

  Jacqui looked beyond Holly to where Kyle sat on the edge of his chair, his serviette in hand, ready to get up if needed. She turned her gaze back to Holly, swallowing hard, and rubbing the tissue over her eyes.

  “Kyle will follow him to the gents and warn him off if you want, while I go home with you. Then Kyle’ll come pick me up later.”

  She hugged Holly tightly. What would she do without friends like them? “I’m fine…he…I just need a minute.”

  “You’re not fine. ‘Fine’ doesn’t sit in the middle of a pizza joint sobbing into a Hawaiian, wedges, and onion rings. Did he hurt you? Did he say something to upset you?”

  A waft of aftershave filled her senses.

  “Jacqui?” Kyle’s deep voice jerked her head upright. “Do I need to go punch his lights out?”

  A wry smile flitted on her lips for an instant. “That’s not very Christian of you.”

  “Made you smile though.”

  Jacqui nodded. “Thanks for the offer, but no you don’t.” She grabbed control and hung on. “Things just got a little intense that’s all. We were talking about family, and I was telling him about Mum and Dad and the train crash. Stuff I’ve never told anyone before. Don’t ask me why I could open up to a complete stranger and not you guys, but…I was there,” she finished in a whisper.

  Holly gripped her hand tightly. “Jac?”

  “On the platform when the train crashed. It came to a halt yards from my feet.”

  They enveloped her in a hug.

  “Talk about coming out in public. Anyway. I told him about that and he told me about his wife.” She noticed her friends give each other a long ‘I told you so’ look and shook her head. “She’s dead. She was murdered on the mission field last year some time.”

  Holly’s face fell and even Kyle looked sick. Too close to home for the both of them. Holly had almost been the first and last victim of the Headley Cross serial killer last Christmas and Kyle’s previous girlfriend had been the second victim.

  Jacqui gripped both their hands tightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

  Kyle recovered first. “It’s fine. We can’t walk on eggshells forever.” His intent gaze burned into her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine. Don’t let your pizza get cold. And Liam will be back soon.”

  “OK. But the first sign of any trouble and I’ll be over here.”

  “Thank you. But I’ll be fine.” She smiled and watched them go back to their table. She tucked the tissue into her sleeve and hoped that too many people weren’t watching her very public meltdown.

  Liam had been gone a while. She hoped he was all right.

  ****

  Liam splashed cold water on his face. Get a grip. She doesn’t need to see this. At least I can honestly tell Niamh I’ve talked to someone next time she brings it up. He took a couple of deep breaths, then dried his hands and face and headed back into the restaurant.

  He expected her to be gone, but she was sitting there.

  He slid into his seat. “Guess that’s kind of ruined the evening. I’m sorry.”

  Jac
qui shook her head. “No, it hasn’t. I’m still hungry…unless you don’t want dinner anymore.”

  “Dinner’s fine. I’m still hungry.” Liam glanced across the room and noticed Kyle watching him. “Your friend is keeping an eye on me. He must think I upset you.”

  Jacqui followed his gaze. “Holly did come over and check when she saw me crying, but I assured her I was fine.”

  “I didn’t mean to make you upset, Miss Dorne. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s Jacqui. Miss Dorne makes me sound old.” She held a hand across to him.

  Liam smiled and took it. “Liam. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you sure I’ve not ruined your appetite?”

  “I’m sure. Actually, I owe you my thanks. For getting me to open up and talk.”

  “As I do you.”

  “Besides, there are still heaps of things we can talk about.” She picked up her pizza.

  He picked up his own and bit into it. “Like what?” he asked around a mouthful.

  “Did your mother never tell you not to talk with your mouth full?”

  A faint smile crossed his face. “All the time, but I didn’t listen to her about that stuff. None of us did.”

  “Nor did I. Well, I haven’t told you what I call my cat.”

  Liam swallowed and picked up his glass. “Schrödinger?”

  “That’s a good one. I didn’t think of that. Nope, he’s called Mandu.”

  “Mandu?” The penny dropped, and he chuckled. “Cat-mandu. Oh, that’s very clever.”

  “He was Atastrophe for a while, but I preferred Mandu in the end.”

  He groaned. “That’s even worse. Mind you, I used to have fish when I was a kid. We called them Bit and Bot, and all the little ones were Tiddlywinks.”

  “I thought I was bad calling my dolls after the characters on a TV show I watched when I was five.”

  “I called my teddy Big Ted.” He finished his slice of pizza and reached for another the same time she did. His fingers touched hers, and a spark of electricity flowed through his hand and straight to his heart. Their gazes met. He smiled awkwardly, not wanting the physical reaction coursing through his body. He couldn’t explain it. The last woman to affect him like this was Sally. He didn’t want anyone else. This was a mistake.