Lessons in Heartbreak
Upbeat and bursting with emotion - this is another gem from the No. 1 bestselling author, Cathy Kelly.Three Lives. Three Loves. Three Reasons to let go…Izzie Silver left the small Irish town of Tamarin behind for New York. Life is good – until she breaks her own rules and falls for a married man.On the other side of the ocean, Izzie's aunt Anneliese discovers the pain of infidelity for herself.Then Lily, the wise and compassionate family matriarch, is taken ill. At her bedside back in Ireland, Izzie discovers a past her grandmother has never spoken of, while Anneliese feels despair mount. The one person she could have turned to is starting to slip away.The lessons each of the women learns – both past and present – bring joy and heartbreak. And the hardest lesson of all is learning to let go.
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Lessons in Heartbreak
Cathy Kelly
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
Copyright © Cathy Kelly 2008
Cathy Kelly asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © February 2012 ISBN: 9780007389339
Version: 2017-10-28
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Praise for Cathy Kelly:
‘A must for Kelly’s many fans; a warm, moving read.’
Daily Mail
‘Totally believable.’
Rosamunde Pilcher
‘An upbeat and diverting tale skillfully told…Kelly knows what her readers want and consistently delivers.’
Sunday Independent
‘An absorbing, heart-warming tale.’
Company
‘Her skill at dealing with the complexities of modern life, marriage and families is put to good effect as she reases out the secrets of her characters.’
Choice
‘Kelly deamatises her story with plenty of sparkly humour.’
The Times
‘Kelly has an admirable capacity to make the readers identify, in turn, with each of her female characters…’
Irish Independent
To Murray, Dylan and John, with love
Table of Contents
In her head, she knew what she was doing was wrong. She lay, open-eyed in the dawn, feeling the length of his naked body next to hers, warm despite the chill of the room. She’d never slept naked before, and now wondered how there was any other way.
Of course, you needed another body beside yours; a body like his, hard with physical exercise, taut and lean, not an ounce of flab on him, and fiercely strong.
Yet he was so gentle with her. His hands with their tender pianist’s fingers had drawn whorls on her pale skin the night before, his eyes shining in the soft light of the dim bulb.
With his hands on her skin, her body became like nothing she’d ever known before: a treasured thing made for being wrapped up with his and adored.
‘You’re so beautiful. I wish this moment could go on for ever,’ he’d said in the low voice she loved. There wasn’t anything about him she didn’t love, really.
He was perfect.
And not hers.
Their time was stolen: a few hours here and there, holding hands under the table at dinner, clinging together in the vast hotel bed like shipwreck survivors on a raft. For those hours, he was hers, but she was only borrowing him.
The awfulness of separating rose up again inside her. It was a physical ache in the pit of her stomach.
He’d wake soon. He had to be gone by seven to get his train.
If she had been the one who had to leave the hotel room first, she knew she simply couldn’t have done it. But he would. Duty drove him.
It was dark in the room and only the gleam of the alarm clock hands showed that it was morning. She nudged her way out of the bed and opened a sliver of heavy curtain to let some grey dawn light in. It was raining outside; the sort of sleety cold rain that sank cruelly into the bones.
There were early-morning noises coming from the street below. Doors banging, horns sounding, traffic rumbling. Ordinary life going on all around them, like worker ants slaving away in the colony, nobody aware of anybody else’s life. Nobody aware of hers.
He moved in the bed and she hurried back into it, desperate to glean the last precious hour of their time together. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend it was night again and they still had some time.
But he was waking up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, rubbing his hands over his jaw with its darkening stubble.
Soon, he’d be leaving.
She was crying when he moved hard against her, his body heavy and warm.
‘Don’t be sad,’ he said, lowering his head and kissing the saltiness of her tears.
‘I’m not,’ she said, crying more. ‘I mean, I don’t mean to. I’ll miss you, I can’t bear it.’
