Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)

A wave of fury washed through him. Taking the bodice in both hands he ripped at it, until the fabric began to protest at his roughness. His bicep muscles contracted, his hands tightening their hold on the dress, as he yanked at the delicate fabric until it tore apart beneath his grasp.

Damn her for making him feel the way she did. For making him feel like he might just be worthy of care and love.

Damn her for giving with one hand and taking with the other.

Damn her for not wearing this beautiful dress as she glided into the gala on his arm.

Damn her to hell. Which was exactly where he was headed, too.

29

You told a lie, an odious damned lie; Upon

my soul, a lie, a wicked lie

– Othello

‘Would you like me to take that for you?’ the flight attendant asked her as she stepped onto the plane, raising his eyebrows at the large box she’d carried on to the flight. She was cradling it like it was something precious. She supposed it was. For some reason she felt very protective of it.

‘It’s very fragile,’ Lucy told him, not quite willing to let it go. ‘I don’t want it to be broken.’

‘We’ll take good care of it, ma’am,’ he promised her, taking the dark blue box from her grasp. ‘I’ll give it back to you when we land.’

She nodded, her arms still outstretched even though the box was gone. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered quietly.

By the time she made it into her seat the plane was almost full. Businessmen already dressed for meetings in London the following morning mingled with families with small children who were fussing with their seatbelts. She sat down heavily, letting her head fall against the rest behind her and closed her eyes for a moment. They felt swollen from her tears, the skin around them red and tender. She reached up to touch it with her fingertips.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to flight five seven two to London Heathrow, due to land at eight a.m. local time. We’re fully boarded, and once everybody’s in their seats we’ll be getting ready for take-off.’ The announcement continued as the flight attendant introduced the captain, the staff, and explained that everybody should watch the safety demonstration. It sounded like white noise to Lucy. Her mind was too full of dark thoughts to process anything else.

Was it only a few hours ago that she was trying on dresses for the gala? She’d felt like a princess when she was wearing that beautiful gown, or maybe more like Cinderella. For the first time in her life, she would go to the ball.

No, she wouldn’t think of that. Nor would she think of the way Lachlan had looked at her when she told him she was flying home. There’d been a darkness to his eyes she’d never noticed before, almost as though he hated her. She breathed in a ragged mouthful of air, trying to get the image of his expression out of her mind. If she thought about it too much, it might kill her.

‘Would you like a drink before take-off?’ the flight attendant asked her.

She shook her head. ‘No, thank you. I just want to sleep.’

The attendant frowned. ‘Are you feeling okay? You look a little unwell.’

Lucy attempted a smile, but fell short of the mark. ‘I just need to get some rest. It’s been a long day.’ Or maybe a long few months. Everything had been out of kilter since the day she’d stepped off that plane in Miami.

The attendant didn’t look so certain. ‘Okay, but if you need anything, just press the button.’ He pointed at the plastic above her. ‘Once we’re in flight, I’ll come and help you set up the bed.’

A few minutes later the cabin crew did their usual check of the plane before taking their seats, and the captain taxied the plane to the runway. As the plane lifted into the air, Lucy let her eyes close once again, knowing that for eight hours, at least, she could disappear into sweet, soft oblivion. A kind of limbo between the maelstrom she’d left behind her in New York, and the mess she was heading into in London. The calm at the eye of the storm.

Suddenly, eight hours didn’t feel like nearly long enough.

‘Where to, love?’ The taxi driver glanced over his shoulder at her through the glass partition. One hand was on the steering wheel, the other resting lightly on the back of the chair next to him.

If she squinted her eyes she could be back in New York, with her dress lying next to her as she clutched an oversized box from a local gallery.

The dress was gone. So was New York, but the box remained in her hands, the base resting lightly on her thighs. For its size, it weighed hardly anything, in spite of the big dent it had made in her credit card.

What wouldn’t she give to be back in that yellow taxi again? Make everything that happened afterwards melt away?

She leaned forward to give her father’s address. Except it wasn’t his address any more, was it? Just the empty shell of a family home, echoing with the memories of the four sisters who used to live there. If she closed her eyes she could hear Juliet laughing on the telephone to a boyfriend, while Kitty turned up the volume of the television to drown out her flirtatious conversation. Cesca was usually in the corner, notepad in front of her, a pen tapping against her teeth.

As for Lucy? She wasn’t sure where she’d been. Worrying, mostly, or making sure everything was organised. Writing letters to her sisters’ schools, making up packed lunches for the next day. Going through her dad’s chequebook to make sure there was enough money to pay all the bills.