The Man She Should Have Married

Then it had shut down.

He had been gutted, and as soon as he’d had the money to do so he had bought the site with a view to restoring it. Now, after nearly two years and several million pounds, the restoration was complete. Today was the official opening, and he was the guest of honour.

Nia glanced over at him. ‘Do you think there’ll be many people there?’

He would have been happy to keep his presence private, but he understood why the trust who now managed the Picture Palace for him had been keen to alert the media. It was good publicity and he couldn’t begrudge them that.

He shrugged. ‘Maybe… I guess there would be more if I was some hot-looking actor.’

‘If they’re turning out on account of your hotness, there should be quite a crowd,’ she teased.

They parked at the Imlah, a sleek boutique hotel with a red brick Victorian facade that was owned by some friends of Lachlan and Holly. There they were picked up in a near identical car and driven to the Picture Palace.

Nia caught his eye, and he smiled at her, a moment of recognition at a shared, private joke.

There was indeed a large crowd waiting at the cinema, including camera crews and lots of photographers, and he pulled her against him as the car drew up.

‘Stay close to me, okay?’

He’d been to enough premieres for the crowd not to bother him, but he could still remember how intimidating it had been to step out into a barrage of questions and flashing cameras for the first time.

There was just time to wave at the crowd and pose for a few photos, and then he was meeting and greeting the board of trustees, the architect and the design team.

Having given a speech thanking everyone involved, he cut the ribbon.

‘It’s not too crazy for you, is it?’ He stared down at Nia, ignoring the photographers’ shouts, feeling the shock of her beauty colliding with his ever-present hunger. ‘We should be able to leave soon. All the formal stuff is done.’

‘There’s no rush.’ She smiled at him. ‘Let me be proud of what you’ve made happen here.’ She nudged him towards the crowd. ‘Go on.’

He signed autographs and smiled, but without Nia beside him he felt as though he had lost a limb. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught sight of her and felt his heart thump. Okay, he was done here.

‘Farlan—’

He turned automatically as someone called his name—and froze.

His vision shimmered and his throat tightened, cutting off his breath.

‘I heard you were coming here today. I thought I’d come down and say hello.’

The faces in the crowd thickened and blurred.

All except one.

Farlan stared at the man in front of him, his heart slamming in his chest. Panic was seeping through his body like frostbite. He tried to will it away, but he could feel himself shutting down. He was trapped in ice.

Green eyes met his own momentarily, and then he spun away and walked towards Nia.

‘We’re leaving,’ he said hoarsely.

He had no idea how they got back to the Imlah. His conscious mind was blank. All he could think about was getting into the car and driving as fast and as far away as he could from the past.

And the pain.

He gripped the steering wheel as memories burrowed their way to the surface. Memories of driving fast to nowhere. Only he wasn’t driving the car.

From some immense, impenetrable distance away he heard Nia’s voice talking to him. He couldn’t focus on what she was saying, but she was talking calmly, steadily, and he felt some of the tension leave his body.

Pulling off the road, he switched off the engine and gazed down the hillside at some unnamed loch. The sun was dazzlingly bright and a light wind was sending small, choppy ripples across the mercury gleam of the water. It looked so beautiful and serene. If only he could dive beneath the mirror-smooth surface and escape the turmoil in his head.