by Jay, Donna
The windows appeared to be black, except for the quarter moon and stars twinkling in the distance.
Claire walked around her and pulled down navy blinds, covering the two glass panes. “It’s highly unlikely you’ll find any peeping Tom’s out here, but I’m sure you’ll feel more secure with them down.”
How thoughtful, and very astute. “Thank you.”
Claire turned to face her. “Sorry about the sickly-sweet smell. It’s from the mothballs. I managed to locate most but the smell still lingers in some rooms.” She ran her hand over the dresser, looking at Zoe in the reflection of the mirror. “This beautiful dresser was full of them. It came with the house and I couldn’t bring myself to part with it.”
A sudden thought made Zoe shiver like someone had walked over her grave. “Did someone die in this place?”
A gentle smile, almost reminiscent, tilted Claire’s lips. “No. Least not that I’m aware of.” She made for the bedroom door. “I’ll get some clean sheets and let you get unpacked. Take your time.”
After unpacking, Zoe sent a quick email to her parents to let them know she was okay. Eventually she’d have to tell them she’d broken up with Sam, but she couldn’t face doing so right then, the pain was still too raw. Besides, they’d only worry if she told them she’d moved in with a stranger who lived in the sticks.
As soon as Zoe stepped back into the living room, her host tossed aside the magazine she’d been reading and headed to the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Red or white wine?”
An irrational moment of panic clutched at Zoe’s chest. “No.” She forced herself to smile. “Thank you.”
Claire quirked an eyebrow. “Brandy?”
Telling herself to throw caution to the wind and have a damn drink, frustrated that she couldn’t, Zoe bit her lip and warred with the internal battle in her mind.
A second later, Claire held up a plastic container with dark granules. “Coffee?” She revealed another container with brown granules. “Milo?” Finally, she slapped a packet of teabags next to the containers. “Tea?”
The fact Claire hadn’t lost her patience, even though she must’ve felt exasperated, put Zoe at ease. “Tea would be great, thank you. But I don’t want to trouble you.”
A broad grin lit up Claire’s face. “Fair enough. I was simply showing you where everything is. Fill your boots.” With that, she poured herself a glass of wine, strode across the living room and slumped into her chair.
Even though Zoe had been told to help herself, the entire helping herself as a guest in someone else’s home was foreign to her. For a brief minute she wondered if it was a ‘kiwi’ thing, but then she remembered their agreement. Claire had invited Zoe into her home to help out around the place not to be waited on hand and foot.
The kitchen tap coughed and sputtered when Zoe turned it on to fill the electric kettle. “I think you’ve got air in your pipes.”
Claire snorted. “That’s not always a bad thing.”
“Huh? How so?”
“Never mind, bad joke.” Claire shook her head, rich brown eyes full of warmth. “I’m not sure if I lucked in or out taking in a teetotaller to help out around a vineyard. At least I won’t have to worry about you drinking the profits once this place is back on its feet.”
Certain she’d be long gone before the first batch made it out of oak barrels and into bottles, Zoe didn’t want to lie by omission. “I love wine. I’m just taking a break from drinking. Watching my pennies.” She wasn’t willing to admit the entire truth of the matter. Zoe was still too busy kicking herself, and going over all the ‘what if’ scenarios whenever she thought about the horrifying events of her last night with Sam. If she’d had all her faculties about her, things could’ve been so much different. The memory of throwing her things in her pack, fleeing with tears streaming down her face, disillusioned and probably scarred for life, made her want to cry like a baby.
Thankfully, Claire changed the topic. “So, how long have you been in the land of the long white cloud?”
Gosh how long had it been? Zoe did the mental calculations. “Three months. We arrived at the end of February.” The aroma of chamomile tea wafting from Zoe’s cup had a calming effect on her. She finally let herself relax, soft sofa cushions moulding around her like a comfort blanket. “We spent a month in Auckland.”
The chair squeaked as Claire leaned forward to put her glass on the coffee table. “I visited once, and that was more than enough to last me a lifetime. I couldn’t stand the rat-race. Did you do the touristy thing?”
Pleasant memories flooded Zoe’s mind. “Yep, went up the Sky Tower.” Not that anyone had been able to talk her into bungee jumping. “Kelly Tarlton's Sea Life Aquarium. Visited the War memorial museum.” Zoe paused to quench her throat with a sip of tea.
Claire mirrored her actions, taking a sip of wine. For some reason the reflected action made Zoe blush. It felt more intimate than it should.
After swallowing, hard, Zoe continued. “And I loved Waiheke Island. The place is stunning.” She anticipated Claire’s reply and wasn’t disappointed.
“Waiheke, known as the island of wine.” The corner of Claire’s mouth quirked up. “So you drank your way down to the Bay and now need to give your liver a rest?”
The excuse suited her for the time being so she played along. “Something like that.”
By nine-thirty they’d lapsed into a companionable silence and Zoe could barely keep her eyes open. With some difficulty, she managed to pull herself away from the warmth of the fire. She washed her cup and put it back in the cupboard. There didn’t appear to be a dishwasher. “Mind if I go to bed?”
The television was on but neither of them had paid much attention to it. Claire glanced up from her Kindle. “You don’t have to ask. Actually, I’m surprised you’re still awake. Your head started doing the nod thing around half-an-hour ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me to go to bed?” Zoe wondered.
“I’m not your mother.”
The snap of Claire’s voice made Zoe cringe. She hadn’t meant to utter the words out loud and despite Claire’s statement, she felt like a little girl scolded by her mother. Slumping her shoulders, she picked up her iPad and tiptoed toward the hall door.
A soft voice came from behind her. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t called for.”
No it wasn’t but Zoe didn’t know her well enough to call her on it. “I’m sorry too. Goodnight, Claire. And thank you for everything.”
Chapter 3
Claire watched the petite brunette disappear through the hall door. She cursed herself for her shitty behaviour. She’d effectively managed to turn a relaxing evening into an uncomfortable one by projecting her own shit on Zoe. The slightest hint of being referred to as a mother had her reacting like a bull to a red flag.
And what’s more, it was one thing to have a houseguest, and another to be sharing her sanctuary with someone who evoked so many emotions in her. The young woman was as skittish as a newborn foal and brought out every protective instinct in Claire.
The tug of attraction that had hit her the minute they returned home took Claire by surprise, and scared the crap out of her. She had no plans to put her heart on the line, especially not for someone she’d just met. The safest thing to do would be to keep her distance.
Hell, Zoe had just broken up with her boyfriend. The last thing she needed was to discover she lived with a lesbian, least of all a woman who got off on dominance and submission. Claire chuckled when an image of a naked Zoe literally running for the hills came to mind. A totally inappropriate image. Yep, she definitely needed to keep her distance.
Still musing about the long and very unpredictable day, Claire stoked the fire, turned out the lights and headed to bed. The door to Zoe’s room was shut tight. For a minute, Claire considered knocking and telling her to leave it open at least a few inches. If temperatures dropped to five degrees Celsius, as forecasted, her room wouldn’t be much warmer than that come morn
ing. But a wise woman not long ago uttered the words, “I’m not your mother.”
After changing into her favourite flannelette pyjamas, pink with black and white woolly sheep, Claire climbed into bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she went out like a light. Exhausted after the long day, she fell into a dreamless sleep until a strange noise woke her.
Where had the sound come from? Her heart hammered in her chest as she shot up in bed.
‘No, no… please don’t. Help…get off.’
It took a moment for Claire to shake off the fog of sleep and remember she had a houseguest. She grabbed the baseball bat out from under her bed and crept into the hallway, hoping like hell no one had broken in.
The door to Zoe’s room was still shut tight. Claire stood stock still, listening.
Soft whimpers. ‘Let go. Dark so dark… please, stop… no.’ A choked sob.
Her guest was obviously having a nightmare. Claire didn’t know what to do. She wavered between going to Zoe and retreating back to bed, where she could pull the blankets over her head, and pretend she hadn’t heard a thing. God knew she’d had to deal with her own share of bad dreams for the first few months after discovering Amy’s deceit. Something that went much deeper than she ever could’ve imagined.
Life had been a walking bad dream until she’d moved into the cottage. Claire couldn’t look anyone in the face without wondering if they’d seen her playing mummy or flogging her submissive. The day she’d returned to get her belongings, she’d made Amy delete all the clips she’d posted. At least the ones Claire knew about, and of course she had no way of deleting videos already paid for and downloaded.
A loud gasp made Claire jerk her head to the left, just before a sliver of light appeared at the bottom of the bedroom door. Deciding to let Zoe deal with her own demons, Claire went back to bed.
For the next two hours, she barely slept. Zoe’s cries played over and over in her head. Don’t. Please… stop.
As soon as six rolled around, Claire slipped her dressing gown on and headed to the kitchen in search of coffee. Black and strong.
Not long after, a blurry eyed Zoe stumbled into the living room dressed in the same blue jeans and hoody she’d had on the previous day. Claire seriously hoped she hadn’t slept in them. More than likely she’d climbed out of bed and slipped the first thing on she found. Zoe pushed the hall door closed behind her, then cut a fast track to the fireplace and crossed her arms under her breasts.
“Did you sleep well?” Claire asked, her tone light and conversational.
“Yes, thank you.” Zoe had the good grace to look at the floor rather than lie to Claire’s face.
“Really?” Claire tried again, resisting the urge to stare at Zoe’s heaving chest.
Troubled eyes met Claire’s and tenderness flooded her heart. How could it not? She knew the pain of a failed relationship.
“Did I keep you awake?” Zoe chewed on her bottom lip.
“Not at all.” Claire lied, wanting to spare her any embarrassment. “But I’m surprised you didn’t freeze your tits off.” Tits Claire wouldn’t mind keeping warm for her.
A cute blush coloured Zoe’s cheeks and she giggled. The sweet sound made Claire want to jump for joy, and also thankful Zoe couldn’t read her mind. “It’s not too cold at the moment, but you probably should leave the bedroom door ajar at night. At least until I get a wall heater installed in the room.”
“Okay.”
Recalling some of Zoe’s frantic pleas, Claire opened a kitchen drawer, pulled out a flashlight and handed it to Zoe. “I forgot you’re unaccustomed to the pitch black. I should’ve given you this.”
She also filed a mental note to buy a nightlight for the hallway when next in town. She’d kicked a toe often enough stumbling to the loo in the dead of night. It certainly wouldn’t go astray.
Chapter 4
Even though the nightmare that had plagued Zoe left her feeling shaken, she did her best to put it out of her mind. The chances of Sam finding her out here were second to none. Zoe took the proffered cup of coffee from Claire, and stood beside her at the kitchen sink.
The view through the window made Zoe’s breath catch in her throat. The early morning sun bathed the sky in reds and grey. Rolling green hills dotted with sheep spread out for as far as the eye could see. Crimson and yellow leaves coloured the grapevines and ground beneath.
“So it’s true what they say about New Zealand.” Zoe surmised out loud.
“What’s that?” Claire kept her gaze locked on the colourful panorama laid out before them. “If you mean the sheep, yep, there’s more sheep than people.” She glanced up at the sky. “And we also live by the saying, Red sky at night; shepherds’ delight. Red sky in the morning; shepherds’ warning.”
Zoe screwed up her face recalling a similar saying. “Isn’t it sailors’ warning?”
“Maybe.” Claire shrugged, then crossed to the other side of the kitchen and plugged in the toaster. “But there ain’t no sailors around here. Although, I’ve been known to swear and drink like one at times.”
The cheeky wink Claire shot Zoe made her chuckle. “I can imagine.”
After setting a black and yellow screw top jar on the bench, Claire pointed a knife in the direction of the breakfast bar. “Sit.”
Zoe hitched her backside up on the padded top of the tall wooden seat with a low back and faced Claire over the counter top.
The toaster popped up and Claire threw two pieces of toast on a plate. “Take the weekend to settle in and find your way around. Monday will arrive soon enough.”
As much as Zoe wanted to protest about being waited on, she was fairly certain her argument would fall on deaf ears, so she swallowed down her pride and accepted the kind offer.
A very black piece of toast was pushed under her nose. “Eat, before it gets cold.” Claire smeared butter on the second slice.
Too polite to argue, and deciding it was time to sample this kiwi staple, Zoe took a tentative bite. A bitter salty tang exploded on her tongue. Rather than gag at the putrid taste, she screwed her eyes shut and swallowed the gooey lump. Relieved when her stomach didn’t revolt, Zoe peeled her eyes open.
An amused looking Claire stood watching her. “Vegemite not your thing?”
All Zoe could do was shake her head as she picked up her coffee and took a huge gulp to wash away the aftertaste.
“I guess it’s different when you’re raised eating the stuff. Not so long ago people were paying exorbitant prices for a jar when there was a shortage.”
The toaster popped up. “I’m sure you can butter your own.” Claire handed over a plate with two slices of toast. Then lined up jam, peanut butter, and honey. “Take your pick.” With her eyes fixed on Zoe, Claire plucked up the toast and vegemite, stuffed it in her mouth, and chewed around a huge grin.
The rest of the day flew by for Zoe. Claire gave her a grand tour of the property. Behind the cottage was a huge red and white barn in need of a fresh lick of paint and a glasshouse that could do with some tender loving care. Zoe hoped she’d get to put her green thumb to good use.
Inside the barn, clothes wire had been hung across two heavy beams, presumably to dry laundry on wet days. Something that struck Zoe as a little odd. “Why don’t you just toss everything into the dryer?”
“Because it sends the electricity bill through the roof. And I like the fresh earthy smell of clothes dried in the open air.”
That explained Claire’s unique scent. The sound of claws scuttling across rafters sent a surge of dread through Zoe. “Please tell me you don’t have rats?” She ducked behind Claire.
A movement near the rooftop in the corner of the barn caught Zoe’s eye at the same time as Claire pointed. “Meet Molly.”
A black cat with white paws, perched on a rafter peered down at them, big yellow eyes full of suspicion.
“She lived here long before I arrived. I leave food out, but she still won’t let me get within five feet of her. One day she might come a
round.”
The barn doors creaked on their hinges when a breeze blew through the small gap. Zoe glanced at her watch, surprised it was almost six. Then, as if her stomach knew it was dinnertime, it let out a long low grumble that made her cheeks flare with heat. “Oh my goodness, how rude. Sorry.”
Claire spun on her booted heel, eyes fixed on Zoe’s belly. “Wow, who knew such a little thing like you could complain with such gusto. Come on, doll.” She flung an arm across Zoe’s shoulders and steered them back toward the house. “Let’s go and rustle up something for tea.”
The soft body bumping into Zoe’s, with each stride they took, was as disconcerting as it was comforting. Zoe became acutely aware of their height difference. Claire dwarfed her by a good six-inches. Her tall frame, shoot from the hip, take charge personality, made Zoe feel protected and safer than she had for weeks.
Another hunger pang gripped her stomach. “I think I need food before a cup of tea.” Zoe joked. She’d learned the kiwi-ism not long after arriving in New Zealand. When Claire removed her arm from around Zoe’s shoulders, she immediately missed the warmth.
Claire stepped in front of Zoe and walked backward through the grass. “We call the evening meal, teatime. Don’t ask me why.” She threw her hands in the air, grinning. “What can I say, we’re a strange breed.”
***
After politely chewing through a meal of fish cakes, which came out of a packet in the freezer, and macaroni cheese out of a box, Zoe insisted on doing the dishes. The view out of the window, of the sun dipping behind tall green hills, made clean up feel like a privilege rather than a chore.
In all honesty, Zoe couldn’t wait until she took over all kitchen duties, she loved to cook. Behind her, Claire let out an almighty belch. When she didn’t excuse herself, Zoe wondered if Claire had temporarily forgotten she no longer had the house to herself. Or perhaps the story she was reading had transported her somewhere else.
