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

‘Hayley, listen –’

‘No. You listen. I need to see Mum and Dad. I haven’t been over in two weeks. Oh, and I thought we’d squeeze in some family time. Remember that?’

‘You’re blaming me for the lack of family time?’ Rick raised his eyebrows and Hayley could tell she’d hit a nerve. ‘You spend every goddamn waking hour at that office. We hardly see you.’

‘I’m working .’

‘I know that. But you promise the kids you’ll be back for supper and you rarely are. I get it and don’t worry, I’m okay with it but the kids, they …’ His chair toppled backwards as he stood up and it landed on the floor with a crash. ‘ Shit. ’

‘You know how much pressure I’m under. I need you to be supportive, Rick.’

He acquiesced. ‘Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I know you’re worried about the finances. Look, I’ll help tomorrow, I promise.’ He opened his arms and walked towards her but she moved away.

He sighed.

‘What?’ she said. ‘What was that sigh for?’

‘Nothing.’

‘No, go on.’ Hayley’s hands were on her hips and she raised her chin. ‘What was it for?’

Rick spoke in a low voice and she saw that the anger in his eyes had been replaced with sadness. ‘Every time I … you’ve got this big wall around …’ He waved a hand as his voice tailed off. ‘Forget it. Never mind. What’s the point?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Rick puffed out his cheeks. ‘Nothing.’

She closed her eyes. She knew what he meant.

The distance.

She felt it too. The silence between them took up an increasingly large space, filled with all the things they should be saying to each other, but couldn’t, or wouldn’t, or didn’t dare.

‘We need to talk about us,’ Rick said, barely audibly. ‘Come and sit down.’

Us? What does that mean? Does he want out? Does he want to leave?

The nagging voice in her head wondered. After all, the hours she spent at the office were ridiculous and, even during the small amount of time she spent at home, they often fought. Images of him with another woman three cup sizes bigger and twenty times more beautiful than her, invaded her mind.

Could he have found someone else? Is that why he’s been so distant?

A while ago Hayley would have confronted him but now she preferred to pretend they were on an episode of that cheesy show, The Waltons . Her life was complicated enough.

‘No. I don’t want to talk,’ she said.

‘You never want to talk,’ Rick snapped. ‘Even if you wanted to, you’re never here. At some point we have to –’

‘I said no,’ Hayley shouted. ‘I don’t want to fucking talk, okay? Not now, not tonight.’ She shook her head and turned away, swiftly wiping the tears starting to spill down her cheeks.

Come on. Get a grip.

She grabbed her bag and coat, and slipped on her shoes.

Rick was in the kitchen doorway. ‘You’re leaving?’ She noticed how his tone had hardened. ‘Seriously?’

With one hand on the door handle and without looking back she said, ‘I’m going to Ellen’s. Don’t wait up.’

She closed the door softly behind her and stood on the front step, her heart aching. Hayley missed Rick, she missed them .

What happened to us?

They’d been so close. The perfect couple – everybody had said so and both Rick and Hayley had known so too. Right from the beginning Hayley had been convinced their love was one that would last forever. She could never have imagined being with someone else.

But now …?

For a few seconds she considered going back inside, throwing her arms around him, pulling him tight, allowing him to comfort her and in return, telling him she loved him. But something inside her stopped her and instead she turned and walked away.

‘For Pete’s sake, look at you. I’ll put the kettle on,’ Ellen said as she opened the door.

Hayley could rely on her best friend to speak her mind. She pulled a face. ‘Got anything stronger? Arsenic? Cyanide?’

Ellen raised an eyebrow then turned and marched down the hallway to the kitchen, her long blonde hair bouncing along behind her. She pushed up the sleeves of her grey sweatshirt, fished a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and plonked it on the table.

‘Wotcha!’ Mark walked into the kitchen carrying a very sleepy looking, six-year old Morgan. She looked like she’d had a bath and she smelled of strawberries, her damp hair framing her delicate features. Hayley noticed her smooth skin and wished she could make her own as flawless. Morgan gave Hayley a little wave and held out her favourite stuffed toy, a floppy-eared, brown and beige rabbit ingeniously named Bunny. Hayley took Bunny and moved its paws in a wave to Morgan, who giggled.

‘How’s the family?’ Mark asked, putting Morgan down and then straightening up with a slight groan. When he caught Hayley’s look he pulled a face. ‘Uh-oh.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Need a girl’s night in with the wife? I can take my guitar down the pub.’

She shook her head. ‘No, you don’t have to leave. It’s mainly work and …’ She sighed. ‘Rick and I fought again.’ Hayley thought she saw Mark and Ellen exchange a look but Mark turned his back and swiftly got three wine glasses out of the cupboard. He opened the bottle of white and filled the glasses almost to the top, then chucked the cork in the dented stainless-steel bin with a clang.

‘Morgan, I think Hayley needs a cuddle,’ he said.

Morgan obliged, wrapping her arms around her. Hayley squeezed back and kissed the top of her forehead.

‘Let’s go then, Missy,’ Mark said. ‘Time for bed.’

Morgan looked up at Hayley. ‘Will you tuck me in?’

‘I’d love to.’

Morgan clapped her hands as she danced off down the hallway, her feet thud-thudding across the floor, while Hayley followed. Her bedroom had soft pastel curtains and pink walls, a single bed with a white frame and three hearts cut into the headboard. There were Little Miss and Angelina Ballerina books in the bookshelves, and stuffed animals on the floor. Bunny’s fancy daybed, a purple satin covered shoe box, lay on Morgan’s pillow.

Morgan climbed into bed. ‘Night-night. I love you,’ she said as she kissed Hayley on the cheek.

Hayley felt a lump rising in her throat. ‘I love you too. Sleep well, little angel.’ She kissed her, then called Mark and Ellen.

‘So?’ Ellen said as the three of them settled down on the well-worn but wonderfully comfortable blue sofas in the living room. ‘What’s going on?’

Hayley smoothed her hand over the cushion and traced her finger around the old, dried red wine stain that reminded her of Gorbachev’s birthmark. She shook her head. ‘Work is hell. Charles is making my life so miserable. He piles his work onto me and it means I hardly see Rick and the kids. Charles, on the other hand, seems to play an awful lot of golf.’

‘He’s such an arse,’ Mark said, then arched his back and grunted. ‘He really is.’

‘I know.’ Hayley swallowed some wine, enjoying the mild burning sensation in her throat. ‘He blames me whenever anything goes wrong and that seems to be a lot these days. But he’s always clever, I’ll give him that. If I say anything it looks like I’m making excuses, so I take the hit. And,’ she puffed out her cheeks, ‘I didn’t get that other job.’

‘What?’ said Ellen. ‘Why?’

Hayley shrugged. ‘Filled it internally. But that’s not the only problem.’ She explained how the Berger offer had fallen through and her conversation with Charles.