LITMIR.BIZ

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She hadn’t hated her. Her life had seemed enchanted, that was all, and if she could have waved a magic wand and changed places with Laura she would have.

      But not now. Poor Laura was dead and Gideon a widower. No one could have foreseen that coming. She would have liked to ask what she’d died of but knew she couldn’t.

      He picked up the tray. ‘Do you mind where we sit?’

      ‘Not at all.’

      ‘Smoking—’

      ‘Non-smoking,’ she cut in quickly. ‘Gave up last year. One year, nine months, fourteen days and counting.’

      ‘Congratulations.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      Did he remember about that? She’d started smoking that summer in a desperate, foolish attempt to look older. Who knew why she’d thought he’d be impressed? It hadn’t worked but she’d started a difficult habit to break.

      Gideon carried the tray across to a table by one of the windows. Two long bench seats were either side. ‘Will this do?’

      ‘It’s fine.’ Kate unbuttoned her coat and sat down.

      ‘Are you staying with Debbie?’

      ‘I don’t know yet.’

      ‘Ah.’ He unwrapped his biscuit before snapping it in half. ‘Are you sure you don’t want some?’

      ‘I don’t eat biscuits.’

      ‘Ever?’

      ‘Empty calories,’ she said, picking up her cup. ‘It’s all about discipline.’

      Gideon frowned. Discipline. It didn’t surprise him she should say something like that. Discipline was probably the mantra by which she lived her life.

      Not many people managed the breakthrough into television from radio. It took determination and a single-minded, focused kind of commitment. The kind that made one careless about the feelings of others.

      A shadow passed across his face. He knew all about that kind of ambition. The human cost of it…

      What was the point of Kate Simmonds coming back to the island now? When Babs was dead? It was too late. She’d been too busy when it had mattered to visit the people who loved her.

      Just as he’d been too busy to notice how ill Laura had become.

      ‘No chocolate? That’s quite a sacrifice,’ he said, looking back at Kate. Had she really not noticed how much Babs and Debbie had wanted her to visit? It seemed unbelievable.

      He studied her. She was going to make quite a stir on the island. Her clothes were expensive, her hair obviously cut by an expert, her make-up impeccable and her nails acrylic. Still had the same brown eyes though. The ones that looked out at everything and everyone with such pain and made you feel as if you were kicking a puppy.

      ‘Hanging out with Hollywood’s “beautiful people” is enough to give anyone neurosis about their weight.’ Kate shrugged and sipped the bitter liquid before pulling a face at her coffee. ‘That’s disgusting! Like drinking tar.’

      He smiled. ‘It’s the worst coffee on the planet. Had you forgotten? You’ve been away too long.’

      Kate’s face relaxed and her eyes lost some of their tension. She put the cup back down on the tray. ‘Do you still own the Quay Inn?’

      ‘Yes. We’re in the Michelin Guide with one star. We’ve had that for a few years now and we’re hoping for a second.’

      Hoping. That was a lie if ever there was one. He was working every hour God sent to make it happen—and shunting his girls all over the place. Babs had told him it was ‘short-term pain for long term gain’ but was it really worth it? He rubbed a tired hand across the back of his neck.

      ‘That’s fantastic.’

      ‘Yes.’ He looked down at the table. It was fantastic. It was his lifetime ambition. Their ambition. His and Laura’s. But without her it didn’t seem worth having. ‘Laura and I always hoped…It seemed important at the time. But…well…’

      Kate looked away, suddenly feeling as if she was stepping on eggshells. She could feel his sadness radiating from him. How pointless it all was. She knew he would trade it all, all his success, if he could just have his wife back. She understood something of how that felt.

      The silence stretched on. ‘How old are your children now?’ she asked in a rush. As soon as the words left her mouth she wished she could take them back. She knew, almost to the day, how old his eldest child was.

      ‘Jemima is five.’

      Laura had been pregnant on her last visit to the island. Glowing with excitement. It had hurt.

      ‘And Matilda is three,’ he said quietly. ‘Just three.’

      Kate watched him bow his head as though the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders. A strange phrase that. Whenever she heard it she wondered what it actually meant—but looking at Gideon she knew exactly.

      And then he picked up his coffee and drank without flinching. For a man who could taste the most intricate food combination with complete precision that was quite a feat.

      ‘They’re pretty names.’

      ‘Laura…’ His voice broke. ‘Laura picked them. I was going to choose the boys’. We’d hoped to have more children. Maybe another couple.’ He shrugged and Kate could feel his desperation to return to normal. Heard the steadying breath he took. ‘But it wasn’t to be. You haven’t got any? Children?’ he clarified when she didn’t immediately answer.

      Kate almost flinched. It was a reasonable question. In time, no doubt, she’d get used to people asking it. ‘No. No children.’

      She could have added she would never have children. Couldn’t. But it was impossible to formulate those words. It was as though it would become more real if she said it out loud. Make it true. Which was illogical because you couldn’t change a medical fact. She would never have children.

      ‘No time, I suppose. With your career.’

      She gave a swift smile. One she knew didn’t reach her eyes. ‘It certainly keeps me out of mischief.’

      ‘A significant other?’

      ‘Not so you’d notice,’ she answered quickly with a furtive glance out of the window. Not any more.

      This couldn’t go on much longer. With every moment the island was drawing closer. It was too uncomfortable meeting Gideon again. ‘Too busy working to have a relationship,’ she lied.

      Gideon sat back on the bench. ‘You got your dream. It must be very exciting.’

      Exciting? She wanted to laugh. You could describe it like that, she supposed, if you ignored all the endless waiting around to interview someone who didn’t much want to be interviewed. The sickening feeling when they only answered you in monosyllables and you knew you had to make something interesting out of it. Of course there were moments. Exciting moments.

      Kate let her forefinger play with the edge of her saucer. But they didn’t fill the void she felt in her life. There was no way to explain how she felt about doing yet another interview with yet another ‘star’ promoting yet another film. In the greater scheme of things it just didn’t matter. Somewhere along the line it had lost its glamour. And all the time she had a different dream. Another dream. One that could never come true.

      ‘I’ve been very lucky,’ she compromised.

      Gideon’s mouth twisted into the half-smile she remembered. Hell, it was sexy. The effect was like a light bulb going on.

      ‘Luck takes work. No one knows that better than I do. The Quay Inn isn’t a success by chance. I put in long hours to make it happen. Sacrificed a lot.’

      ‘Sometimes

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