It might not be as easy as she had first hoped to find somewhere to live, but somehow she would do so, she told herself firmly as she put on her coat.
She was going to visit the local library to borrow some careers books. She would have to get some kind of qualifications, of course, and find a job to support herself in the meantime.
It had been Cressy who had told her that since she already had a natural gift for l
istening to people without judging them she should consider training for some kind of counselling work—an echo of what Adam had once said to her…
Adam…
She shivered, switching her thoughts back to the present and to reality. She had protested at first that her friend was overestimating her abilities, but Cressy had been insistent and Fern acknowledged that her suggestions had appealed to her.
She had already brought home some leaflets from Relate and read through them, confirming what she had already suspected, which was that the training and standards involved in such work were extremely high, and that only a very small percentage of those who initially embarked on the training programme actually made it to the end and became fully accredited counsellors.
She could see why, of course, but the information she had read had been extremely daunting. Daunting and yet at the same time challenging.
She smiled wryly to herself as she walked into town.
For once there was no need to avoid Adam’s office. Adam was in Italy with Lily James and her family, she reminded herself wryly as habit made her pause to check the square before hesitantly starting to cross it.
How ironic it was that this should cause her so much more pain than the ending of her marriage to Nick.
She lifted her head and looked boldly and directly towards Adam’s office and then stiffened in shock as she saw Adam opening the door and walking out.
Adam was in Italy, Nick had told her tauntingly, but Adam wasn’t in Italy, Adam was here, right here, only a handful of yards away from her, his back turned towards her as he closed his office door, mercifully oblivious of her presence.
Just for a few precious seconds Fern allowed herself to drink in the physical pleasure of seeing him, the familiar dangerous bumpy thud of her heartbeat, the acceleration of her pulse, the sweet, slow, destructive pleasure of loving him; a drug as fatal to her as the most lethal of poisons.
And then the exhilaration, the sharp quivering pleasure of seeing him was gone and in its place came the familiar pain of slow despair, spreading heavily through her, hurting her far more than any of Nick’s viciously cruel words. Nick had told her that Adam didn’t want her and she had known it was true, but somehow this… seeing him, loving him hurt even more.
He paused, turning to look back over his shoulder, and Fern wondered sickly if somehow he could have felt the ache of her own yearning, as to her horror she realised that he was crossing the square, coming towards her.
Pride kept her where she was, pride and the fear that in retreating she might somehow betray what she was feeling and in doing so embarrass him and humiliate herself.
‘Fern.’
She closed her eyes against the soft warmth of his voice, immediately taking a step back from him, turning away from the small frown pleating his forehead.
‘How are you?’
How did he manage to make the casual, impersonal question seem so tender and caring? But then that was Adam, his concern embracing everyone he knew. Even her…
‘I’m fine… fine,’ she lied. ‘And you… Lily… ?’
‘Lily?’ His frown deepened.
‘Yes…’ Fern was stammering slightly now. ‘I thought… I heard that you… that she… I thought you were in Italy with…’
His frown eased slightly. ‘Yes, I was, but I had to come back… some business.’
Behind her a car entered the square. Adam reached out a hand as though to guide her closer to him, but Fern immediately stepped away from it, from him… out of reach. Her throat ached with pain and emotion, with the sickness of loving him.
‘I must get back,’ she was stammering again, her face flushing, her body tense.
‘Yes…’
She could feel Adam looking at her, but she dared not look up at him. If she did…
She turned away from him quickly, hurrying in the opposite direction, willing herself not to give in to the temptation to look back.