‘It’s me. Ben.’
Sarah literally jumped back from the entry phone. Was she imagining things?
‘Ben?’
‘Yes. Ben. Ben Gardiner. Remember me?’
‘Yes.’ Get a grip. ‘Of course I remember you. Do you want to come in?’
Stupid question. She buzzed him in, opened the front door and retreated, resisting the urge to run round like a headless chicken. It wasn’t as if it would do any good. She obviously didn’t have time to do a makeover or meditate, and hiding under her duvet seemed pretty pointless. Instead she moved behind the sofa, to stop herself running straight at him and throwing herself into his arms, and stared at the door.
Calm down.
Yet her heart skipped, cartwheeled and crashed as he walked in, and she had to will her feet to remain still, to prevent herself from vaulting over the sofa.
‘Hi.’
‘Hi,’ she replied.
‘So,’ he said, and anger vibrated off him. ‘Why did you hand your notice in? Is it because of me? Because of us?’
Of course he’d be angry. Of course he would blame himself.
‘Partly, yes—but it’s OK. Listen... I’ve got another job. With Howard and Frintel. At their head office.’
Here at least was her chance to tell him.
‘I sat my Maths and English GCSEs.’ She couldn’t help the pride in her voice. ‘I don’t get the results until January, but the person who interviewed me still seemed impressed. I’ll be on a long probation period, because of my conviction, but I think she believed that I might be innocent. I’m glad you’re here so I can thank you. You gave me that belief in myself—by believing in me you made me see that maybe other people would too.’
Not everyone—she’d had a lot of rejections too—but she’d persevered.
Now all trace of anger was gone, and his cobalt eyes were filled with pride. ‘That is wonderful news. You must have worked incredibly hard—and, more than that, it must have taken courage to go into an interview situation and explain your conviction.’
‘You unlocked something in me. You made me see that maybe there is a way forward despite my bad choices.’
He smiled at that. ‘I’m glad.’
‘Me too.’
There was a moment of silence, then she took a deep breath, bracing herself for another goodbye.
‘You could have just called,’ she said, with an attempt at lightness. Part of her wished he had, and yet part of her wanted to prolong this time together as long as possible.
‘I could.’ There was a silence, as though he were considering how to go on. ‘But... I’ve missed you.’
‘You have?’
‘Yes. More than
I can say. I’ve thought about you every day—nearly called you, nearly come into the store.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘Because I want you to be happy. And, ironically enough, I realised I couldn’t buy happiness for you. I could offer you any material thing you want, and enough money to give Jodie a million starts. I could deck you out in diamonds and give you houses all over Europe.’
‘But that wouldn’t make me happy.’
‘No. And I didn’t believe I had anything else worth offering.’