Time After Time: A heart-warming novel about love, loss and second chances. Hannah McKinnon Mary

Time After Time: A heart-warming novel about love, loss and second chances - Hannah McKinnon Mary


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      ‘He wouldn’t have touched me, honestly, I know he wouldn’t.’ She paused to catch her breath. ‘He asked me to marry him.’

      ‘Marry him?’

      Hayley nodded and as her eyes filled with tears again, Karen pulled a handkerchief out of her cardigan pocket and wiped them away. ‘He wants me to leave university so we can settle down. I said no and he got angry. I’ll pay for a new door, I’ll –’

      ‘Never mind that. Listen to me, young lady. You will get that law degree. Don’t you ever let a boy get in the way of your future. It’s your career, your life. Do you understand?’

      ‘Yes Mum, I promise,’ Hayley whispered.

      She hardly slept that night, tossing and turning in her bed – kicking off the blankets as she was sweating only to pull them around herself again a few minutes later because she was shivering once more – all the while trying to figure out what to do about Chris.

      More tears came, then so did the anger, which finally gave way to the desperate agony she felt in her heart when she decided it had to be over.

      Chris didn’t give up that easily. He left messages, sent ‘I’m sorry’ cards with sad-looking teddy bears, and had bunches of daisies – her favourite flowers – delivered to the house. But Hayley had made up her mind. She dumped the whole lot in the bin.

       CHAPTER 12

       Some Things Never Change

      ‘Is that you?’ Chris shouted from the kitchen, over the noise of a whistling kettle.

      He was standing by the kitchen sink, pouring steaming water into a mug with KING PIN written on it. Hayley didn’t notice she’d been holding her breath until she saw that, thankfully, he’d dressed since their morning encounter. His faded jeans looked trendy although his grey T-shirt was slightly too tight across his middle. It looked like he hadn’t shaved for a good few days, and Hayley immediately recognised the scent of his Paco Rabanne aftershave he always wore.

      ‘Where did you run off to?’ he said. ‘I thought you cancelled your lessons two months ago.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Your French lessons with that bloke, Fred, or whatever. The one who fancies you.’

      ‘Who? Frédéric? He doesn’t fancy me but –’ She started wondering who Frédéric was and how she knew his name, but then noticed Chris staring at her.

      ‘So?’ he said.

      ‘So what?’

      ‘Where did you go?’ He continued to stare at her as he stirred his tea. The grinding sound of metal spoon against porcelain cup made Hayley’s teeth ache.

      She cleared her throat. ‘Uh, I went out for a bit.’ She wondered how they were going to have any kind of conversation. They hadn’t seen each other for two decades. Not according to her anyway. How could she spend the day with him? But if she told him what was going on he’d slap a straightjacket on her.

       ‘Ellen called,’ he said with his eyes still on her. ‘She said you left almost two hours ago. Where have you been?’

      Without missing a beat she said, ‘For a walk in the park.’

      Chris put his mug down with a loud clunk. ‘Who did you meet? Anybody I know?’

      His jealous streak hadn’t changed much.

       Think, Hayley. Think …

      ‘Oh alright,’ she said brightly, grateful she’d always had a good memory for dates. ‘I went to arrange some things for your birthday. Don’t ask or it’ll spoil the surprise.’ She hoped he didn’t have a built-in bullshit detector.

      ‘Oh.’ He smiled and his face looked completely different – calm and kind, attractive. Time had perhaps rendered his face slightly less chiselled, but he was no doubt still turning heads. ‘Okay,’ he continued, ‘I just wondered where you were. Ellen said you fainted or something. You don’t need me to stay do you? Only, I’ve got plans.’

      She waved her hand around, trying to stop herself from punching the air. ‘I’m fine. A bit tired.’

      ‘Good. I’m going out to play footie with the lads then straight to the club. What are you doing?’

      Hayley didn’t have the faintest idea. ‘Oh, uh …’ She scratched her forehead. ‘I thought I’d get some work done?’

      He scrunched up his face. ‘Since when do secretaries work on a Saturday? Charles had better be paying you.’

      ‘Secretary? Charles?’

      ‘I prefer him to his dad,’ Chris said, ignoring her confusion. ‘Ronald kept putting ideas in your head.’

      ‘Hmmm …’ Hayley’s mind went into overdrive.

       Alright. Let’s see what I can get out of you.

      ‘Last night I dreamt about the day you proposed,’ Hayley said.

      ‘Really?’ Chris turned his back and pulled a loaf of bread from the cupboard.

      ‘Yes.’ She watched as he took the butter out of the fridge and spread it thickly on a chunk of bread he ripped off. She remembered how he used to like her – or anyone for that matter – stroking his ego. ‘It reminded me how much I love it when you tell the story.’

       Ugh, that was gushy. Bat your eyelashes and twiddle your hair, why don’t you?

      ‘Do you?’ he said.

      ‘Yes. Go on,’ she said. ‘Tell me.’

      Chris took a big bite of the bread and rolled his eyes.

      She smiled. ‘Please?’

       I’m going to make myself sick.

      He clicked his tongue. ‘Oh, okay. We were in your bedroom. You wanted to go out. I didn’t want you to because I had to work.’ He paused. ‘I was a bit jealous back then.’ He chewed and then swallowed loudly.

       No kidding. Then what? Tell me what happened next, you bastard, I need to know.

      ‘Only a little bit.’ She smiled at him. ‘Go on.’

      He rolled his eyes again and shook his head. ‘I asked you to marry me, you jumped off your bed, squealed ‘yes, yes, yes’, and almost knocked me over.’

      What felt like a fragment of a memory fluttered through Hayley’s brain. The look on his face when she said yes. The sinking feeling in her chest that she pushed away, not wanting to spoil the moment.

      He turned away and filled a glass with water from the tap.

       I said yes straight away. Oh fuck. What an idiot!

      ‘I said yes. You didn’t break my door,’ she muttered to herself.

      ‘Eh?’ he said and took a sip of water. ‘What door?’

      ‘Nothing.’ Trying very hard to make a statement rather than ask a question she added, ‘And then I left university.’

      Chris’ brow furrowed. ‘Why are you bringing this up? It was your idea. You said you wanted to help with the mortgage when Mum died.’

       She died? That’s why I quit university?

      His face softened again as he broke into a grin, then he chuckled. ‘Remember the look on your mum and dad’s faces when we told them, eh?’


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