Time After Time: A heart-warming novel about love, loss and second chances. Hannah McKinnon Mary

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СКАЧАТЬ again. Bye.’

      She noticed how he cast a furtive glance towards her through the window and she caught sight of her reflection. She bit her lip so she didn’t let out a psychotic, I’m-a-crazy-tube-person laugh.

       Silly! Look at yourself. Short hair, no make-up, crumpled shirt.

      She exhaled deeply, puffing out her cheeks.

       No wonder he didn’t recognise me. Yes, that must’ve been it. That’s it … right?

      She felt a hysterical giggle rising and swiftly quashed it by biting her tongue. When she got off the tube at Stamford Brook she slipped off her jacket and folded it over her arm. It still wasn’t that warm outside, but her nerves were rising steadily, and she felt clammy again. As she walked down the road towards her home, she remembered she didn’t have her keys. Something else she’d have to either explain to Rick, or hide from him.

      Hayley stopped for a second, allowing a young mum with a double-pram and two angelic-faced babies to move past her. She held onto a lamppost, grateful for the steadiness it provided, and the opportunity to get her head together, figure out how to act and what to say.

      When she reached the front door she knocked on it timidly, and seconds later a man wrenched it open with such force Hayley thought he was going to be flung backwards into the hallway.

      ‘Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want it.’

      Hayley stared at him. He looked at least seventy, thin, short and bald. He wore a tartan shirt with a green, woolly cardigan over it, a pair of khaki trousers and brown slippers. A waft of fried kippers drifted out of the open door.

      ‘Wh-who are you?’ she stammered. ‘Wh-what are you doing here?’

      ‘What?’ He crossed his arms and peered at her over his spectacles.

      Hayley gasped as she looked into the hall. The wall Rick had taken down a few years ago to open up the entrance had been rebuilt. The mahogany sideboard that Rick had restored in secret and surprised her with one Christmas, was missing. There were no kid’s coats or shoes. Hayley looked down and realised that the welcome mat, the one with the umbrella carrying ladybirds that Millie had chosen so excitedly, had gone.

      ‘What are you doing in my house?’ she said, her voice so devoid of conviction it sounded tiny, insubstantial.

      ‘I heard you the first time. I’m getting old, not deaf. Clear off.’ He started to close the front door.

      ‘Wait, please.’ She leaned on the door with her shoulder, pushing her weight against it, and he retreated a little. ‘You don’t understand. Th-this is my house.’

      ‘Rubbish. I’ve lived here for years.’ His face darkened and his eyes became mere slits as he leaned forward. His kipper-breath fanned across Hayley’s face, forcing her to take a step back. ‘You’re one of those estate agents that’s been calling, aren’t you? The answer is still no. No. No. No.’

      ‘What? I’m not –’

      ‘I only laid my Harriet to rest a few months ago. You’re like vultures, you are. Vultures. Bugger off.’ He slammed the door in her face.

      Hayley looked at the big brass number sixty-eight. Then she looked up and down the street, making sure it was the right one. She put her hands out behind her as she sank down on the cold, concrete step.

       This can’t be happening. It can’t be. Where’s Rick? Where are the kids?

      She rubbed her head, then quickly rummaged through the denim bag for the mobile phone. Her fingers trembled as she tried typing in numbers but the phone rejected them, stubbornly demanding a password.

       Maybe it’s … No, that’s crazy … it couldn’t be … could it?

      Hayley had only ever used one password in her life. Stupid and risky, perhaps, but she considered it to be quite obscure really, at least to people who didn’t know about her Dirty Dancing obsession from the ‘80s. Very slowly she typed JOHNNY4H and hit return. The phone accepted the password immediately. She dialled her home number and pressed the phone to her ear, at the same time leaning towards the front door, wondering if she’d hear it ringing inside the house too. She didn’t.

      ‘Anthony Jones.’ The young man’s Welsh accent was as pronounced as Fireman Sam’s.

      ‘He-hello? I thought this number belonged to Rick and Hayley Cooper?’

      ‘No, sorry. Wrong number.’

      Hayley read the number back to him and he repeated it.

      ‘Sorry, love. That’s my number. Perhaps try directory enquiries. Toodle-oo.’

      Directory enquiries were no help. They confirmed the number belonged to a Mr. A. Jones. Hayley used the mobile to check it on the Internet with the same result. She dialled Rick’s mobile phone but a recorded message told her the number wasn’t in service. There was one person left who she could trust to tell her the truth and nothing but.

       Mum.

      ‘Hello? Karen Adams speaking.’

      ‘Mum?’

      ‘Hayley. How are you, pet? Hang on, we’ve just come back from our walk. You know how your dad enjoys the sun in the morning.’

      ‘Mum, I –’

      ‘Just a sec while I push the wheelchair into the lounge … There. I only said a minute ago that I hope we’ll see you this weekend.’ She paused. ‘And Chris too.’

      ‘Chris?’

      ‘Yes, love. Are things any better between the two of you?’

      Hayley swallowed. ‘We have our ups and downs,’ she said and closed her eyes.

      Karen sighed. ‘I know I’ve said it before, but remember you can always move back in with us if you need to. If you and Chris ever …’

      Hayley drew in a sharp breath. ‘Mum … do … do you know Rick?’

      ‘Rick who?’

      ‘What about Millie and Danny?’

      Karen said nothing for a few seconds. ‘I don’t remember you mentioning them.’

      ‘Oh, Mum … I –’

      ‘Hayley, are you okay? What’s going on?’

      She heard the panic in her mother’s voice and forced herself to sound chirpy. ‘I’m fine, Mum. Honest. It’s … nothing.’ Her brain filled with swirling fog and clouds, preventing her from grasping the truth or understanding the repercussions.

      ‘You’re sure?’

      ‘Yes. Look, I’d better go. I’ll call you later. Bye, Mum.’

      Hayley sat for a while, letting hot tears trickle down her face. Then she finally slipped the phone back СКАЧАТЬ