Free Where You Belong by Barbara Taylor Bradford

flame-colored and her eyes were dark, black as coal, in fact. A true Celt, I thought.
    â€œI’m so glad you were able to come to London,” Fiona was saying to Jake in her lilting brogue that bespoke her heritage. “To be honest, I’d worried that you might both be off on assignments, that you wouldn’t make the memorial service. Thanks for coming.” She looked at me, and then back at Jake, and said, “So you’ll be joining us at the house to take a bite with us?”
    Jake hesitated uncertainly, gave me a quick glance, and said to Fiona, “Val hasn’t been feeling well since we got here last night, have you, Val?”
    He had adroitly thrown the ball into my court, and I had no option but to go along with him. “No, I haven’t, not really. I think I must be coming down with something.”
    Fiona’s face dropped. “Oh, that’s such a disappointment, ’tis indeed, Val. And here I was, wanting to give you both something of Tony’s. As a memento, you know. There’s so much at the house, all of his possessions collected over the years. I thought you could choose something, Val, and you, Jake, something personal, like a camera, or maybe a pair of cuff links.” She paused and shook her head, and a wry smile touched her mouth. “Well, as far as Tony’s concerned, there would be nothing more personal than a camera I’m thinking, since every camera he ever owned was part of him.”
    â€œWe do want you to come, Jake, you worked alongside Dad for so long. And you should come too,” Rory cut in, looking directly at me. “If you feel up to it. It’s not a real wake, you know. It’s a sort of . . . well, it’s just a gathering of friends remembering my father with his family, in his home—”
    â€œIt won’t be the same without you,” Fiona interjected. “Why, Jake, you were so close to him these last few years, I thought at times that you were joined at the hip. Please come to the house. It means so much to me and the children.”
    Jake said something, but I wasn’t paying attention. Instead, I was staring at Fiona. And I knew with absolute certainty that she was not Tony’s ex-wife. Fiona was still his wife. Or, rather, his widow.

Chapter 5
    I
    â€œTony came to me at the end of July and said he was divorced. Why didn’t you tell me he wasn’t?” I asked as evenly as possible, trying to keep my voice level and controlled.
    â€œBecause I didn’t know he wasn’t,” Jake answered, returning my stare with one equally as penetrating.
    â€œBut why didn’t you know? You were his best buddy, and you seem very pally with Fiona. You must have known something, known what was going on in their life together!” I exclaimed, my voice rising slightly.
    Jake did not answer.
    We stood facing each other in my room at the Milestone, where we had returned after leaving the Brompton Oratory. When truth and reality had suddenly hit me in the face at the church, I had hurriedly excused myself to Fiona, hinting in a vague way that I really wasn’t well and had to leave. Under pressure from her, Jake had finally agreed to go to her house once he had dropped me off at the hotel. On the way here in the car, he had tried to talk to me, asking me why I had rushed out so abruptly. But I’d hushed him into silence, explaining that we must wait to have our discussion in private.
    Now we were having it. He suddenly reached out, as if to take me in his arms. But as he moved toward me, I took a step backward. “Don’t try to comfort me right now,” I said swiftly. “I’m not in the mood, Jake, and anyway, I want to talk this out with you.” I shook my head. “I always thought you were my friend, my best friend, actually, but now . . .” I let my sentence trail off.
    Instantly I saw that I had annoyed him. His mouth tightened into a thin line, and his