Juliet.
She swallowed hard as she circled around, looking this way and that. Images of her kneeling down and weeding her flowerbeds, pictures of her standing on the deck of his boat, her hair flying behind her as they sailed through the bay. Still more showed her staring into the distance, a small smile playing at her lips, or kneeling down talking to Charlie and Poppy, as she pointed something out.
It felt strange to be surrounded by so many photographs of herself. And yet they were beautiful. Somehow he had taken something mundane and made it extraordinary. The curve of her arm, the shine of her hair, the smoothness of her skin were all explored in extraordinary detail.
‘Tell me these weren’t taken by a man obsessed.’
Julie turned to look at Sheridan. For a moment she’d forgotten she was there. ‘I never knew he was taking these.’
‘Of course you didn’t. But they’re beautiful, aren’t they?’
She nodded. ‘They really are.’ Where she’d felt so empty before, Juliet could feel a pressure building inside her, a well of emotions mixing and bubbling. ‘Why did he take so many?’ she wondered.
‘Because he’s in love with you.’
She wanted to believe it, she really did. ‘But he told me it was over. He wouldn’t have said that if he loved me.’
‘I told you he’s stupid. He is a man, after all.’
Juliet looked at the black and white photographs again, trying to work out what it all meant. Sheridan could be right, or she could be wrong, but right then it didn’t make an ounce of difference. Because Ryan was in New York and she was right here.
She was going to have to wait to see what happened, even if the suspense killed her.
28
Under love’s heavy burden do I sink
– Romeo and Juliet
Ryan pulled his shoes back on and swung his bag over his shoulder, glancing up at the flight information as he left the security hall. The departure gates were thronging as usual, and he pushed his way through the familiar families and businessmen, heading for the business lounge.
He showed his ticket to the attendant at the desk, then made his way to the bar. After the anxiety of the past two days there was nothing he wanted more than a cool bottle of lager before his flight.
‘What can I get you?’ The barman greeted him before he’d even made it to the counter.
Ryan let his bag slide from his shoulder, putting it on the stool next to him. ‘A Yuengling, please.’
‘Coming right up.’
A moment later he had the bottle in his hand, the cool mist on the brown glass turning to ice-cold water, the beads pooling against his palm. Looking around he took in the people sitting around the lounge. A couple of businessmen in the corner were knocking back tumblers of spirits and laughing uproariously. On the other side a genteel old woman was knitting and sipping at a mug of something steaming hot. Coffee, Ryan assumed. But most of the passengers were in the office area, typing furiously at their laptops, printing out details and scrolling on their phones. Some of them all at the same time.
But Ryan didn’t want to look at his phone. Didn’t want to scroll through his laptop either, even though it was safely stowed away in his hand luggage. Instead he leaned on the bar and scowled at his own reflection in the mirror on the wall, not liking what he saw looking back at him.
Sighing, he took a big mouthful of beer. Then another. Within minutes the bottle was empty. He put it back down on the counter, using his finger to slide it over to the bartender, who picked it up and put it in the trashcan beneath the bar.
‘You want another?’ the bartender asked.
Ryan glanced at his watch. Another hour before boarding. He could remember a time – not so many years ago – when he would get to the check-in thirty minutes before the flight was due to take off. Not possible now, in these days of strict security.
‘Yeah, sure. Hit me up.’
The bartender grabbed a bottle from the cooler and popped the cap. ‘Can I get you anything else?’
‘No thank you, I’m good.’ The thought of trying to eat something made his throat want to close up. He hadn’t managed more than a bowl of cereal all day. Messing everything up was ruining his appetite.
‘You travelling on business?’ The bartender was cleaning the counter with a soft yellow cloth. Ryan wasn’t sure why, it was already gleaming.
‘Yeah, something like that.’ He raised his eyebrows at the man.