Sara Foster - Come Back to Me

He shifted miserably in his seat, aware of the space next to him – Amy’s space. They should have been coming back together today, excited about the next chapter. Now what was there to look forward to?

And yet… within the restlessness that pushed and poked at him, causing him to be unable to sit still, let alone sleep, there was something else nagging at him, worrying away like a dog with a bone, trying to break free. He wanted to ignore it, to remain stubbornly livid, but it was too persistent. It came at him again and again through the interminable hours as he sat and stared blankly at the small screen above his head.

A short time before he arrived at Heathrow, he finally couldn’t take it any more. He let the realisation descend on him. There was a distinct possibility that Amy had never wanted him to leave at all, that she had given him a get-out; she had made it easier for him to do what, secretly, he’d been wanting to do all along, ever since the moment he knew she’d been hurt. And, without comprehending what he was doing, he had taken the chance, and run away, without even thinking of what this meant for them long term. He had deserted her, and now all he wanted to do was to take it all back, to start again, and just to be there for her whether he got it right or wrong.

But he had an awful, gnawing feeling that ate away at him as the plane began to descend. It was the understanding that now he couldn’t go back. It was too late.

Mark’s heart was heavy as he headed back towards London through the drizzling gloom, peering hard through the windscreen at endless tail-lights, trying not to let tiredness overtake him too much.

Chloe didn’t deserve this. Whenever he thought of her he recalled her woebegone face of just a few hours ago. She’d been trying hard to talk to him all week, and he had been avoiding her, as he didn’t want to come right out with it.

Because Henry’s words had not stopped booming in his ears.

He had made his way home from Chloe’s the previous Sunday with a heavy heart, to a cataclysm of repercussions before he even had a chance to get changed out of his tux. Henry had collared him the moment he walked in the door, and then ranted and raved about his behaviour, shouting so loud that Mark’s mother had taken the dog on a long walk just to get away from them.

‘You will never be a great lawyer if you can behave like that…’

‘You have disgraced yourself, and the firm…’

‘You have made a laughing stock of me…’

‘You need to pull your socks up quick smart, my boy, or you’ll be out on your ear.’

At first Mark said, ‘It was one silly lapse in judgement, Dad, not the end of the world. Just one drink too many.’ But his father had continued.

‘Your work has been going downhill lately…’

‘Everyone has noticed. I’ve had to excuse you…’

‘You can’t keep up…’

‘This isn’t what we took you on for. Everyone has expectations of you…’

And then:

‘Ever since you and Chloe began this little affair …’

‘What?’ Mark was appalled. ‘I barely see Chloe at work, and she hardly forced the drink down me last night. It was my error.’ A brief image of Risto and Chloe dancing flashed before him and he grimaced.

‘I’ve seen you,’ Henry shouted. ‘Eating together in the office, always at each other’s door. It’s a distraction. It’s leading you down the wrong path.’

Mark was floundering in the unremitting torrent of antagonism coming from his father. ‘That’s ridiculous, Dad,’ he said without really thinking.

‘How dare you,’ Henry had replied, further incensed. ‘Let me tell you, Mark, you need to choose – Chloe or your career. You’re young, only just starting – there’s plenty of time for all that later. If you let yourself get distracted now, you’ll never make the top grade, never have a chance of going for the big jobs, never fulfil your potential – and all because of some little romance that probably won’t even last the distance.’

Mark couldn’t help himself. He began to listen. And Henry pressed on, with points about how it was best for both of them, Chloe too, as they could always pick things up later if they still felt the same. How Chloe didn’t seem that serious anyway – just look at the way she’d flirted with Risto last night, without even a care for Mark. How Chloe wasn’t right for Mark; he needed a stronger, less emotional woman. How Chloe’s work was suffering – the partners were voicing concerns – if she didn’t knuckle down, there might be serious repercussions for her too.

‘Finish it now,’ he urged. ‘Before either of you gets too involved.’

We’re already too involved, Mark had wanted to say at first, thinking of Chloe’s sweet sleeping form of just a few hours before. But the image had wavered in the face of his father’s onslaught, and by the time Henry had finished making his case, Mark had been utterly swayed. Only much later, too much later, would he look back at it as a supreme display of persuasive talent from the most wily of legal minds.

Amy was discharged from the hospital the day after Alex had stormed out of her room. He hadn’t come back.

He will come back, she thought, as the nurses helped her dress, manoeuvring her aching limbs into her clothes; as they put her things together; as her dad hefted her backpack over his shoulder, and her mum linked arms with her; as they thanked the medical staff and headed slowly towards the exit. She looked around for him in the car park, at the sides of the road as the taxi journeyed along, in the cavernous airport check-in area, before the milling people made her feel faint and she had to sit down. But it seemed he had abandoned her. And by the time the plane lifted into the air her upset had turned to numb dismay, and she wasn’t sure if she had ever really known him at all.

Christmas had been going so well. Chloe’s mother had put out the turkey and a raft of vegetables with a flourish, and the four of them had delved in.

Charlie poured them all sparkling wine.

‘Cheers,’ Chloe said, lifting her glass and looking round at them.

They all echoed her, and then Anthony had given Chloe a searching look. With a sinking heart she realised what was coming, but before she could do more than give a swift shake of her head, he had continued, ‘I have an announcement to make.’

‘Oh?’ Margaret spoke for them all, sounding intrigued.

‘I’ve put my course on hold, and I’m moving to America!’ Anthony grinned.

There was silence.

Then, ‘How nice for you,’ Margaret murmured, stabbing her fork into a sprout and jabbing it into her mouth.

‘What?’ Anthony said, half-laughing, looking round at them all.

Charlie looked irritated, even though he had made it a rule never to get involved in disputes with Margaret’s children. Life was easier that way.

Chloe kept her head down.

Margaret was not to be mollified, however, and after a pause said, ‘Anthony, do you think we don’t know why you’re going to America?’

‘Mum, I really regret not having a gap year, and Tommy is over there at the moment working, so it’s free digs – the chance of a lifetime. I’m so lucky having a US passport, and I want to see the world while I’m young.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ Margaret retorted.

‘What?’

‘You’re going to find your father.’

‘Well, I might make some enquiries while I’m over there. What’s the harm, Mum, honestly? You’ve had me completely to yourself so far, you can hardly begrudge sharing a bit now.’

And then, to everyone’s surprise, Charlie stood up, knocking his chair back as he did so.