Truth was, she’d never met anyone who understood her more, who was as patient, as kind, and damn it, as brave. What he’d done back in the park hadn’t been through lack of trust, she could see that now. It had been the opposite – he’d trusted her to have his back, even when he’d knowingly put himself right in the firing line.
Bottom line then, if she could find a way to stop this awful cowardy-custard rubbish, she was going to grab it. She’d faced the horror of believing she’d lost Zac and come through the other side, yet still she’d pushed him away. Maybe she needed to face the other demon from her past. The horror of her parents’ relationship.
‘If you’re going back there, we’re going too.’ Mandy’s voice jolted Kat out of her head. When she turned to face her, Mandy gave her a wide smile. ‘Why should you have all the fun?’
***
He’d only intended staying with William and Helena for a night, but that had drifted into two and before he knew it, he’d spent four days with them. Four days of horse riding with Helena, clay pigeon shooting with William, walks around the estate and gentle runs to get his fitness back. Four days without the presence of Isabelle or Antony to ruin the harmony.
Now it was Saturday, and with an apartment that hadn’t been properly lived in for over a month, and filming again on Monday, he regretfully told Helena over breakfast that it was time to head back.
‘Oh no you don’t. Not yet.’ She pierced him with one of her stubborn looks. ‘Not until we talk about Kat.’
He wasn’t going to do anything as ridiculous as blush. He certainly wasn’t going to get choked up. ‘What about her?’ Calm, measured. He was proud of himself.
‘When are you going to tell her that you love her?’
Heat surged up his neck and across his face. ‘Sorry?’
‘You most certainly will be sorry if you don’t let her know how you feel.’
‘She knows.’ And a lot of good it had done him. Damn, why were his eyes burning again?
‘So that’s it?’ Helena’s expression wasn’t quite disgust, it was more disappointment. In him. ‘You’re just going to, what, give up on the only woman I’ve known you to fall in love with?’
‘How is it giving up?’ He gave her a brief rundown of his visit to Kat, and the awful conversation they’d had on the doorstep. ‘She hates me for what I did, and I can’t even blame her.’
‘She doesn’t hate you, Zac.’ Helena’s expression softened, her eyes now full of compassion. ‘You caught her when everything was too raw. She was trying to support her niece and cope with her own guilt. You’ve both had a few days to calm down and get the whole thing into a proper perspective.’
Zac gave up trying to eat – his throat had all but closed up now – and pushed his plate away. ‘It doesn’t matter how long I give it, the facts remain the same. I allowed a killer into their life. I can’t forgive myself for that, so there’s no hope she’ll be able to. And if she can’t forgive me, she’ll never be able to love me.’ Or, to put it another way, she’d not loved him before, so she certainly wouldn’t now.
‘You won’t know any of that for certain if you don’t try and make things right.’
He carefully folded the napkin he’d used and placed it on the table. ‘I’m not sure it’s up to me anymore. She was very clear what she thought when I last spoke to her. To go and see her again could be seen as harassment.’
‘Did she tell you to leave her alone?’
‘No, not exactly.’ I regret letting you stay in our house. ‘Not in those words.’
‘In which case, she’s left the door ajar. And I hope, for your sake, you’ll at least try and ease it further open.’
Zac pondered Helena’s words as he made the drive back to his place. He was perfectly happy to have the door slammed in his face again. When it came to Kat, his ego had long since taken a running jump. What he couldn’t live with, was causing Kat – or Debs – any further distress. It tortured him to know that turning up on their doorstep again, might do exactly that.
***
His apartment felt too impersonal. Too cold. Hell, though it pained him to admit it, the place felt too tidy. Zac had only been back an evening and already he’d taken three of his mum’s teapots out of their cabinet and put them on the kitchen worktop. Just to make some clutter.
She’d have smiled, if she’d seen them. She’d been so proud of the blasted things, showing her collection off to anyone who came round. When he’d once asked why she liked teapots so much, she’d told him it wasn’t so much what they looked like, as what they represented. A friendly chat, a shoulder to cry on, a pick me up or a soothing word. The beginning of a discussion or the settling of an argument. So much, she’d told him, could be achieved over a pot of tea.
Zac wondered if he should take one round to Kat, or if their relationship was so far estranged even a pot of tea couldn’t fix it.
His mobile buzzed in his trouser pocket and he snatched it out without looking who it was. ‘Hello?’
‘Zac, it’s me.’ Immediately his heart let out a massive thump. He didn’t need the clarification that followed. ‘It’s Kat.’
‘I know who me is.’
‘Oh, okay.’ A pause, and she sounded a bit breathless. Like she was walking. Or maybe nervous. ‘It’s not been so long that you’ve forgotten me then.’
Slowly, because it was all his suddenly weak legs could manage, he made his way over to the sofa. ‘I’ll never forget you, Kat.’
‘Well, that’s good. At least I think it is.’ She laughed, but it sounded strained. ‘Then again, maybe you mean it in a, I’ll never forget that bloody woman, kind of way.’
He rubbed at his forehead, trying to order his scrambled thoughts. Why is she phoning? What does she want? Is this good news or bad? ‘Is there a reason you called?’
‘Does there need to be?’
‘No, God no.’ He expelled a breath, desperate for the conversation not to unravel. ‘I’m surprised to hear from you, that’s all. Surprised and delighted, though the latter does rather depend on why you’re phoning.’
There was another pause, which did nothing to help his wildly beating heart. ‘I wanted to find out how you were.’
Was that all this was? He was having a near heart attack over a cursory call? ‘Very solicitous of you. I’m well, thank you. And you?’ He cringed at the formality, aware that like most of his quirks, as Kat would put it – the way he dressed, his punctuality – it was a defence mechanism.
‘I’m well, thank you.’ She mimicked his reply, but then blew out an exasperated breath. ‘Bollocks to this. You know I can’t do polite chit chat. I phoned because I hate how we left things. I was a right cow to you when you came round and I’m sorry, okay? I never meant to take my own guilt out on you.’
His sigh came from somewhere deep inside him. What a godawful mess. ‘I’m sorry you feel guilt over something I was responsible for. If I’d been honest about who my father really was—’
‘I would still have told you to stay in our house,’ she interrupted firmly. ‘I’ve talked to Debs about this until we’re both sick to death of it. She reminded me that if I’d not gone with my instinct and instead found you yet another hotel to stay in, and then you’d been shot …’ He heard her take in a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Let’s just say she doesn’t lay any blame on either of us. In fact she’s angry AF – her words – with the pair of us for being so ridiculous about it all.’