“She’s divorcing her husband,” I said, quietly.
“I heard. Is that why you offered the full asking price?”
“It was. Harry was okay when our divorce proceedings started, but once his solicitor got involved it all changed. I never wanted half of everything, just enough to let me buy a house and live comfortably. I got a little more than I was expecting, but I’m not complaining,” I said, with a laugh.
“That’s the first time you’ve mentioned him by name,” Ronan said.
I turned to him. “I don’t want to dwell on the past anymore. There’s no need for me to be bitter. I feel sad, desperately sad that my marriage was a lie, but I do believe he loved me—he just couldn’t live the lie any longer. One day, he woke up, and he broke down and told me he’d been gay all his life. He’d had sex with other men during our marriage.”
“I’m not entirely sure I’d be as forgiving as you’re being.”
“I thought long about why I don’t hate him. I went through a period where I didn’t want to speak his name, but…I guess since everything was finalised just before we left for Scotland, I feel as sorry for him as I do for myself with all the wasted years.”
When we thought we had sat for long enough before we’d be deemed suspicious, we moved on.
“I really like it, Lizzie,” he said, as he used their drive to turn around.
“I think I’m going to be happy there. Now I know a ‘sort of’ neighbour, I won’t feel so isolated. It’s amazing how quickly the friends disappear when you’re a single woman.”
We continued through the village on a different route until we arrived at Ronan’s cottage. As we pulled to a halt outside, I smiled. The cottage, similar in style to the renovation project, wasn’t what I expected at all. I guess, having been in the Scottish castle with its vast rooms and dereliction, to step into a pristine, chocolate box cottage was so different. Ronan had to duck to walk through the front door, which opened straight into a living room with a log burner in one corner.
“This is so lovely,” I said as I placed my overnight bag at the bottom of the wooden staircase.
I followed Ronan through the living room to a kitchen diner. Beyond that was a large sunroom with another log burner and seemed to be the place he spent the most amount of time. I noticed a newspaper still open on one sofa, although a few weeks old, and a cup that Alexander Flemming would’ve been proud of. I picked up the cup and took it out to the kitchen.
“I think this needs throwing,” I said, handing it to him.
“I’m sure it will wash up okay,” he replied with a laugh.
“Remind me not to drink from it then.”
Ronan was making a pot of coffee. “Take a seat. This will take a few minutes.”
I settled into the corner of the sofa, which was surprisingly comfortable, and looked out to his garden. Although a little messy inside, the garden was immaculate. I wondered who tended it for him. The borders were neat, and the lawn had recently been mowed. Perfect stripes led the eye down to a hedge and the fields beyond. It was quiet and peaceful, like the barn, and there was a good feeling about the place that I imagined, after the chaotic upbringing Ronan had, would be a haven for him. I could smell the coffee brewing; hear the bubbling as it was pushed through the machine. I heard the rattle of coffee cups on saucers…
What is that noise? I thought. At least I thought I’d thought it and not spoken it out loud.
It was only then that I realised I’d fallen asleep. A noise had woken me, and when I opened my eyes, I saw Ronan at the other end of the sofa. He had stretched out with his feet on a stool. His T-shirt had risen a little, showing a trail of hair leading under the waistband of his jeans. On the floor was his coffee cup. He looked so peaceful, with a small smile on his face, I wondered what he was dreaming about and prayed it wasn’t the same as the last time I’d seen him asleep. I chuckled as I stretched my legs out and stood.
I reached down to pick up his cup and headed to the kitchen. I remade the coffee, and while I waited for it to brew, I stood at the windows looking out. I heard Ronan shuffle on the sofa, and I looked over.
“Hey,” he said, pushing himself into a sitting position.
“I’m making a fresh coffee. I hope you don’t mind,” I said.
“Of course I don’t mind. Did I tell you that you snore?”
“You did, once before, if I remember. That’s very gentlemanly of you to point it out, of course,” I replied with a smirk.
“I was about to say, I believe in honesty, but I’m not sure I’m in a position to state that, am I?” he replied with a chuckle.
“I concur, now, how do you take your coffee?”
I poured him the black coffee with one sugar that he’d requested and returned to the sofa.
“This is a lovely cottage, but not what I was expecting,” I said.
“What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know to be honest. I think, having lived all those years in Scotland in that vast house, I guess I didn’t expect something as cosy.”
“I think it’s because of all those years rambling around in those vast spaces with nothing to do and no one to do it with is the exact reason I wanted cosy,” he replied.
“I like space. I need to have natural light, which is one of the reasons I wanted out of London to be honest. I can’t seem to bear the noise and fumes. I want to see the stars and not have them obscured by light pollution. I think I need a period of peacefulness.”
“Will you come back up with me after we drop the pictures off?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, Ronan. I was never sure why I was invited in the first place. I thought we were friends, then it seemed I was staff, and then somewhere in between until I wasn’t anything.”
“You’ve never been nothing, Lizzie,” he almost whispered. “I got it all very wrong, and I’ve apologised, and I’ll keep on apologising if needed. I would like you to join me for a few reasons, the main ones being, I like your company, even if you do snore, get stuck in mud, and wear a gimp suit. You’re the first person I’ve met that sees beyond the romance of a castle in Scotland to the practicalities of what the fuck to do with it. I can’t do it on my own, more importantly, I don’t want to.”
“I’ll need to be back when my house purchase goes through,” I replied.
“I’ll help you move.”
“Bring me up to speed while I decide.”
Ronan told me that the police had arrested Manuel, whose real name, sadly wasn’t Mick but most certainly was Derek. I burst into laughter. It was a perfect name for him, and yet again I was reminded of characters from the TV show, Benidorm. All the cannabis plants had been removed, much to Maggie’s dismay, and the builders were in blocking up the hole in the loft as well as updating the three cottages. They were going to be let out, although he hadn’t decided if he’d try for long term or holidays yet.
The art group had been told they could stay. Ronan couldn’t bring himself to remove that last piece of his mother, but the glamping site would be updated. Saggy Tits, whose real name I had learned was Petal, was in charge of forming an organised group that would pay a monthly fee to go some way towards the upkeep. I was pleased to hear that. Although it had been most disingenuous of me to refer to her as saggy tits, I just couldn’t seem to remove the name and replace it with Petal.
“The Aga works, and Maggie made bread in it. We have constant hot water but not quite constant heating yet,” Ronan said.
“Well, that’s it then. You’ve sold it to me, again. I’ll need to go home and get more clothes, obviously.”
“Thanks, Lizzie. And I am sorry about everything. I’m so fucking anal when it comes to friendships. I don’t know what to do for the best sometimes.”
I smiled. I would have preferred him to use the word relationships, but I’d take friendship since that’s all it was likely to be.
“Now, how about a walk?”
I slipped on my walking boots, wrapped a scarf around my nec
k, and pulled on my coat. Ronan did the same, and we left the cottage by the back door. We crossed the garden to a small gate I hadn’t notice at the side of the property and then walked down the lane.
“Wrong side,” Ronan mumbled as he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me closer to the hedgerow.
“Doesn’t matter what side if a car comes,” I said, laughing.
“I was brought up a gentleman, Lizzie. I need to get back in touch with him.”
We talked as we walked. Well, he talked because we were walking slightly uphill and I wasn’t able to talk, walk, and breathe all at the same time. I did puff out a complaint about how unfit I was.
“Petal wants to get the yoga class going again. You could join that,” he said.
“Please tell me they do that dressed.”
He laughed and then shook his head.
“Do they arrive naked?” I asked. I didn’t recall seeing piles of clothes anywhere.
“No, there’s a gate and car park they come in. Not that I’ve sat and watched, but I imagine they get undressed there and leave their stuff in the car. They bring essentials, like towels and stuff, and that all stays in the tents.”
I wasn’t taking too much notice of where we walked, but we seemed to be doing a circular route crossing an open field and were about to head into a wooded area. I always found woods spooky, more so in the day. There was a silence that I found eerie. We walked a well-worn path that was littered with fallen leaves. The smell of rich earth wafted as we stepped through them. I collected a few conkers; their shiny brown outer shell reflected the light. Conker brown was always a colour I strived to achieve at the hairdressers, never quite getting there. I popped the conker in my pocket, intending to show the hairdresser next time I had an appointment.
Ronan and I chatted about our childhoods, our parents, and he had to laugh and place his hands on his knees to catch his breath when I told him my parents were swingers.
“Please, let me meet them one day,” he said breathlessly.
“Are you kidding me? They won’t come on to you, you’re too young, and we’d have to go to Spain, they won’t come here. But, no. You can’t.”
“So what happens if you remarry? Won’t your dad be walking you down the aisle again?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever remarry, and if I did, it would be on a beach somewhere, or a field or… I know you said you don’t want weddings in the house, but what about by the loch?”
I hadn’t visited his loch, but as the talk of weddings progressed, I had a vision of a wedding party on the grass with the loch in the background. It could be so romantic.
“Midges,” he said.
“Huh?”
“What is Scotland famous for? Except tattooed good looking men in skirts and haggis? Midges. There’s one month of the year where only the tourists venture near the lochs, but the fuckers are around most of the summer.”
I hadn’t listened beyond tattooed good looking men in skirts. Ronan snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Lizzie?”
“Sorry, I got stuck at the men in skirts thing. Do you have a kilt?”
“Of course I have a kilt. I’ll wear it next week. I’m sure we can find an occasion.” He laughed as he spoke.
“Are you…” I gestured to his nether regions. “Underneath?” I whispered.
Ronan leaned closer. “There’s no one around to hear you,” he whispered back. I liked that he was so close, and maybe it was because it came off the back of men in skirts, but my heart missed a couple of beats.
“Well?”
“How about we wait, and I’ll show you. It’s not like you haven’t seen my dick already,” he said, rather too loudly for my liking.
My cheeks flamed so much I was sure smoke would seep from the top of my head.
“Oh, come on, it must have been funny,” he said, bumping my shoulder before we continued to walk.
“It was mortifying. I was hiding, Ronan, on the floor at the bottom of your bed. I was singing in my head and covering my ears so I didn’t hear you. No, funny isn’t a word that springs to mind,” I replied.
For the second time he had to stop because he was laughing so hard.
When he was done, he slung his arm over my shoulder, and we walked together. We must have been out for about an hour when we emerged from the woods into a lane, and again, Ronan positioned me close to the hedge. He removed his arm from my shoulders, and I missed it. As we rounded a corner, his cottage came into view.
“Where is mine from here?” I asked.
“You’re the other side of that wood. I guess you could walk it. I can’t imagine it would take that long.”
“I don’t think I’d walk through woods on my own, not even in the middle of the day,” I said.
“You’ll have to get yourself a car.”
“I haven’t driven in so many years. I might need lessons.”
“When we get to Scotland, I’ll take you out in the Land Rover. You’d have to do something spectacular to smash that up,” he said.
We arrived back at the cottage, and while Ronan filled the log burner with kindling, ready for a fire, I headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge to see long life milk. I screwed my nose in mock disgust at the ‘fake’ milk. Still, it would have to do for my drink.
“You know you invited me to dinner? You don’t actually have anything in your fridge. What did you plan we could eat?” I shouted.
I shrieked as I felt him immediately behind me. His breath ghosted the back of my neck as he peeked over my shoulder.
“Hmm, maybe we’ll have to eat out,” he said. “Or get a Chinese delivered, whatever you choose.”
“I think you probably owe me dinner out actually,” I said, wanting to step back but not being able to. I wanted to close the fridge. I wasn’t sure if my erect nipples were from the cold or him being too close.
I stepped back, feeling his chest against my back, and I pressed myself into him as I squeezed the fridge door past me and closed it. I turned, and still, he stood in the same position.
I stared at him. His gaze travelled over my face coming to rest on my lips, and I bit down on my tongue so it didn’t poke out and run over them in any kind of involuntary suggestive manner. He reached up and tucked a piece of hair around the back of my ear.
“I’m glad you’ve forgiven me,” he said.
“I don’t know that I have, yet.”
He leaned just little forward, and I closed my eyes. The hand that had tucked the hair away cupped my chin. I felt his breath on my skin as he turned my face slightly and gently kissed my cheek. I smiled and opened my eyes. Was he flirting with me? I hadn’t had a man flirt with me for years. He sure was giving me mixed signals.
Ronan ran his hand over his chin and then he smiled. He stepped back and made coffee. I wanted to grab hold of him, pin him to the fucking counter, and kiss him. Of course, I’d never do that. Instead, I sat in the living room in front of the log burner and waited for him to return.
“How about an early dinner since I don’t have anything in for lunch either?” he said, bringing the coffee and some biscuits through.
“Sounds good to me. You didn’t really think this, invite me for dinner and sleepover thing through, did you?”
He laughed. “No. I’m actually trying to remember the last time I did the dinner and sleepover thing, and it has to be a few years now. I’m pretty much winging it here,” he said.
I raised my cup to him. “Same.”
It was nice just to sit and chat some more with him. He told me about his work. He told me that from an early age, he had decided he wanted to be his own boss. When he had finished his business degree, he persuaded his mum to loan him some money, and he’d invested in a bar with a couple of friends. The bar had failed, but he’d learned some valuable lessons. One was to never trust anyone in business. His mum loaned him some more, and he bought the bar at a fraction of the price the group of friends had to pay initially. He worked day and night, turned it around, and s
old it for a profit, paying his mum back for both loans. And so it went on. He bought some property, renovated and sold. He bought a couple of vintage vehicles, had them repaired and then sold for a profit. It seemed that he could turn his hand to most things.
“So this project that you initially wanted to speak to Joe about, what is that one?”
“It’s a small boutique hotel with a spa. I’m not sure it’s something I wanted to be involved in, but I loved the property. It’s too large to be a house, so I thought I’d get it up and running and then sell it.”
“I don’t know why Joe doesn’t get involved in interior design; he’d be amazing at it. His eye for detail is unbelievable. I know when he sells property, he sometimes has the homeowner redecorate and refurnish.”
“So I heard. I saw what he did at the bar and thought he might be interested in the hotel project. So far he’s come up with some great ideas. But that’s a long term project, there’s a lot of building work to be done first.”
“Do you have your own builders?”
“I contract most of it out, but I’m pretty handy at building most things.”
The thought of a shirtless Ronan with dirty hands, and a sweaty torso as he built walls flashed through my mind. Maybe all the images I was having of Ronan were because I was hungry, or tired, or both. I grabbed a couple of biscuits.
“Oh, fuck,” I said, using two fingers to try to scoop the broken biscuit from the coffee before it turned to mush, scolding myself in the process.
“Give it here,” he said. He took my mug, and I sucked my fingers into my mouth to soothe them. I heard him take in a breath as he watched.
“Burned them,” I said, colouring again and waving two fingers in the air at him.
He went to tip it away and make a fresh cup. “Can I have tea?” I called out. Too much coffee would have me awake all night with palpitations.
The thought of Ronan, naked from the waist up, repairing a wall in one of his many fields wearing a kilt and work boots, was more likely to keep me awake with palpations than all the coffee off the Blue Mountain.
Limp Dicks & Saggy Tits Page 21
