She travelled for one week and then another, aimlessly criss-crossing France, instinctively shunning the company of others, snatching a few hours of sleep during the day because she was totally unable to do so at night.
There would not be a child. She told herself she was glad, and for his sake she was, but for her own…
How long was she going to feel like this? Her heart gave her the answer… Forever… Forever.
Three weeks after she had fled from the farmhouse, exhausted physically and spiritually as well as emotionally, she turned the car in the direction of the place that had been her childhood retreat and solace.
None of the family lived there any more, but they were remembered, and Livvy was made welcome, the family who now owned the farmhouse and the land insisting on her staying with them. Their eldest daughter was living in Paris and would not mind her using her room, Livvy was assured. Too drained and weary to argue, she smiled her thanks and allowed herself to be drawn into the warmth of the Gironde family circle.
She could just as easily have walked into the river that ran along the boundary of the farmlands and allowed its waters to close over her head, she recognised dully, but that was a temptation she knew she must resist.
* * *
She stayed in France until not long before the beginning of the new school term.
She had not made contact with anyone at home; she had not felt strong enough to do so.
She had worked, though, and she had convinced herself that life must go on, no matter how much of a painful burden she found that knowledge.
She said her goodbyes to the Girondes and headed back for home.
The phone was ringing as she opened the door. She ignored it, grimacing at the amount of mail piled up on the floor and sniffing the stale air of the closed-up rooms distastefully.
Life had to go on. Her pride demanded that it go on.
She froze as one envelope slid free of the others. Her name was written boldly on it. Without knowing how, she knew, she knew that it was from Richard.
She tore it up without opening it. What was the point? All it could do was hurt her even more.
She had things to do…food to buy, bills to pay, work to organise.
The weeks at the farm had tanned her skin, emphasising how slender she had become… How thin… Her hair had grown and needed trimming. Mundane, boring, routine things, the only things that were left in her life for her now.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE phone was ringing. Livvy tried to ignore it, but the noise persisted. Wearily she pushed aside the duvet and reached groggily for the receiver.
‘Livvy, you’re back.’
She tensed as she recognised Gale’s voice. ‘I’ve been ringing you for days. Where on earth have you been? Why haven’t you been in touch? Look, I’m coming round to see you now.’
‘Gale, no—I…’ Livvy started to protest, but it was too late.
Wearily she got up and padded into her bathroom. When Gale said ‘now’, now was exactly what she meant.
Livvy was just pouring the coffee into the two mugs she had placed on the table when her cousin’s car stopped outside.
Gale looked different, Livvy recognised, as she opened the door to her. Softer, more womanly somehow. Her manner didn’t seem to have changed, though.
‘Livvy—my God, what on earth have you done to yourself?’ she demanded, as Livvy let her in. ‘You’re far too thin. And where have you been?’
‘I’m sorry I had to break my promise to you,’ Livvy apologised, as she handed her one of the mugs of coffee. ‘But I—’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that. That’s all been sorted out now—Livvy, I’ve got so much to tell you.
‘You remember Robert Forrest, George’s boss?’
‘The misogynist who took over George’s life? How could I forget him?’