This Could Change Everything(33)

‘What did she do? Did you see her after that?’

Zillah shook her head. ‘No, we never saw her again. She returned to York and stayed there. And I married Matthew six months later, convinced that this time everything would be fine.’ She pulled a face. ‘Be careful what you wish for. It didn’t take me long to realise I’d made another terrible mistake.’

‘What was wrong?’ Essie was clearly engrossed in the story.

‘I’d thought I wanted someone nice. Matthew turned out to be too nice. Within a year I was bored to tears. I’d broken Alice’s heart, and for what? Nothing!’

Essie said, ‘Did Matthew know how you felt?’

‘Not at first. But eventually he did. He begged me not to leave him, said we had to stick it out. He promised that things would get better and I felt so guilty that I stayed. For ten long years. I tried my best to make it work, I really did, because I so desperately wanted everything to be OK. But in the end we just couldn’t carry on any longer. A single friend told me one day how lucky I was to have Matthew, because he was the most wonderful man she’d ever met. So I told her we were on the verge of breaking up and said if she wanted him, she had my blessing to go ahead. Then I told Matthew what a good couple they’d make. And at last it felt as if I’d done something right, because Matthew and I divorced and a few months later they were married.’

‘You’re kidding. How brilliant. That’s a happy ending!’

‘Well, happy for them. Less so for Alice, poor thing.’ Zillah scrolled through the photos on her iPad. ‘Here they are, Matthew and Christina. I took this photo of them at their wedding.’

‘You were invited?’

‘Darling, I was the guest of honour! Matthew publicly thanked me for getting them together. And a year later, Christina gave birth to twin sons.’ Zillah smiled at the memory. ‘After all the misery and carnage, finally something good happened. Their marriage was a huge success. Christina died five years ago, but Matthew’s still alive.’

‘Ooh.’ Essie’s eyes widened. ‘So you’re single and he’s single . . . Aren’t you tempted to give things another go?’

‘Give things another go with the man who never stops talking about his eleven wonderful grandchildren?’ Zillah fanned her hand in mock horror. ‘You must be joking. Bless his heart, he’s even more boring now!’

She showed Essie the rest of the photos from that extended period when she’d been single once more. Then they came to the first ones of her and William together, and Zillah felt her heart expand with love, as it always did when she remembered how incredibly lucky she’d been to find him.

‘So it was quite a while before you met William,’ said Essie.

‘Oh yes. I was thirty-six when I left Matthew, fifty years old when William and I found each other. After two disastrous marriages I thought I should give being single a real go. And that’s what I did for fourteen years. It was fine,’ said Zillah. ‘I worked, I travelled, I socialised with friends. There were lots of adventures. Then I met William and that was it, everything changed.’

‘How did it happen?’ Essie sat forward, enthralled. ‘Was it fantastically romantic?’

Zillah thought back to their fateful encounter. ‘Actually, we didn’t get off to the best of starts.’

She’d spent a couple of days up in London, attending the christening of a friend’s daughter and taking a trip to the theatre. Now, heading back home to Bath, she found herself on Paddington station with forty minutes to kill before the train departed.

In the shop, she picked up a packet of Polos and a newspaper for the journey, then wandered across to the shelves of books to see if any of her favourite authors had a new novel out.

After a couple of minutes of searching, she became aware of a fellow traveller standing several feet away. He was holding a paperback in each hand, studying the blurbs on the back covers, clearly struggling to decide which one to buy.

‘If it helps,’ said Zillah, ‘I found that one pretty disappointing.’ She pointed to the book in his left hand, then indicated the one in his right. ‘But that one’s brilliant. Her best yet.’

The man looked up and she saw that he had merry grey eyes that creased at the corners. He held up the book in his right hand. ‘Let me guess. You wrote this one?’

‘I didn’t. I wish I had. But I can really recommend it.’

‘And the other one? Why was it disappointing?’

‘The murderer turned out to be the hero’s psychotic identical twin. Twins are just cheating.’

The man nodded slowly. ‘Indeed. Well, many thanks.’

‘Happy reading.’ Zillah turned away, pleased to have been able to help. There was nothing else on the shelves that particularly caught her eye; she’d make do with her newspaper instead.

Thirty minutes later, she boarded the waiting train. As she made her way along the carriage, she spotted the same man ahead of her, occupying a window seat and already completely engrossed in his paperback.

Smiling to herself, she waited until she was almost level with him before opening her mouth to say cheerfully, ‘Didn’t I tell you it was good?’

Well, that was what she would have said, if at that moment he hadn’t glanced at his wristwatch, affording her a brief glimpse of the book’s cover.