He eyed her back as he pondered her question, and Rebecca found herself swallowing hard and turning away; his expression was far too intense.
“Why am I here?” He shrugged, tapping the side of his mug thoughtfully before answering a moment later. “I’m here because I knew you wouldn’t forgive me for sleeping with Tania. I knew I had to do something drastic and totally mad. So I decided to get on a plane to try to explain why I did it and to tell you how I feel about you.” His expression was almost childlike as he went on, “And I’m here because I’m terrified you might decide not to come back to Ireland.” Before she could stop it, Rebecca’s hand snaked forward and rested on his; he felt a flicker of hope and played his blinder. “But most of all, I’m here because I think I love you.”
She snatched her hand back as though she had been scalded and rubbed her temples. Her brain hurt. Why, when she already had so many thoughts as to where she was headed racing around her head, did Ciaran have to pop up and put a great big bloody spanner in the works? She exhaled slowly, knowing that she simply couldn’t deal with this tonight. She might be acting, as Jen would say, true to form in delaying an inevitable conversation but at this moment in time, she simply didn’t care. “Ciaran, I know this sounds like a total cliché, but I really need you to back off and give me some space.”
“But—”
“No, listen!” She held her hand up to silence him because she was not going to let him out-talk her. “I know you’ve come a long way to say your piece, but it’s not fair. You can’t just show up out of the blue and land all this on me and expect me to collapse into your arms. I need some time to think.”
“Is it your man, the solo dad?”
“No.” But even as the word snapped from her mouth, she wondered, was it David? Was he the reason she was holding back? Or was it something more? Whatever the answer, she wasn’t going to analyse it now. “Look, it’s late and you heard Jen—the kids are up with the birds.”
“Okay, okay. I can take a hint.”
As she walked him outside, Ciaran took her hand and squeezed it for a moment before letting it drop. “I’m booked into the B&B for a few days. I won’t pester you. I’ll respect your wishes and give you time to think. When you are ready, you come and see me, okay?”
Rebecca looked straight ahead at the black nothingness; she knew if she turned to face him, she’d cave. “Okay.”
“Good night then. I’ll be walking home now, all alone in the dark.” He took a reluctant step away from her.
“You’re a big boy; you’ll be fine.”
He took another step and then turned round. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a quick shag to see me through the next few days?”
“Bugger off!” She saw the whiteness of his teeth as he flashed that naughty grin of his.
“Can’t blame a man for trying.” And then the darkness swallowed him up.
Chapter Nineteen
“SO WHAT THE BLOODY hell was that all about last night?” Melissa demanded. Her head was throbbing, and she was ruing that last mixer she had knocked back before they left the pub. Rebecca was sitting on the floor, playing Snap with Hannah and looking ridiculously perky for someone who had been up half the night having a deep and meaningful and goodness knows what else with her nutcase of an employer. Stretching out on the couch, Melissa rested the back of her hand on her forehead like some old-time movie star as she waited to hear what her friend had to say for herself.
“Hannah, why don’t you bake Melissa and me something yummy?” Rebecca pointed to her niece’s toy oven. “We’ll play another game in a minute.” Her niece dutifully began banging pots on her cooktop before announcing she needed the toilet. As she took herself off up the stairs, Rebecca relayed her conversation with Ciaran to Melissa. “I still can’t believe he’s here. It seems so surreal that he’s come all this way.” She frowned. “He’s thrown me, showing up the way he did, and I don’t know how I feel about him being here at the moment.”
“So you didn’t sleep with him last night.”
“No. I sent him packing but that’s not to say I didn’t want to but then the thought of him with that...that...”
“Slapper.”
“Yes, that’s the word I was looking for, thanks—well, it just leaves me cold.” She shuddered. “I told him I need some time to think, and he’s agreed to give me a few days’ space. Besides, David’s coming for lunch today and I want to see what happens there. I don’t want to burn my bridges with him just because Ciaran’s decided he might be ready for a relationship.”
“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Melissa, whose head was getting worse, replied sardonically. “What you are telling me is that you’ve left Ciaran, whom you’ve always maintained you didn’t fancy, dangling because you think David fancies you. Although on what you base that I have no idea.”
Taken unawares by this surprise attack, Rebecca opted not to stoop to Melissa’s petty level. She was obviously jealous and so with lips tight and chin up, she ignored her. It was a good question, though. Did David like her? Or was she a rebound from his recent divorce—a mere distraction? Then again, there was nothing wrong with taking it slow. But how slow was too slow? Look at her and Ciaran, for goodness’ sake—all that wasted time and now it felt too late.
Noting her best friend’s pained expression, Melissa’s guilt urged an immediate apology. “Sorry. I’m sorry. That was bitchy, but I’m dying here. Could you get me some painkillers? Pretty please.”
“If it means you’ll stop being a super cow.”
“Agreed.”
Rebecca flounced off to the kitchen, bringing back a glass of water and tablets a moment later. Suddenly Melissa remembered her friend’s disappearing act at the pub the night before. “So where did you get to last night when you left me on the dance floor? You were gone for ages. You weren’t hooking up with David, were you?” Her eyes narrowed; she didn’t like it when Rebecca held out on her.
Rebecca smirked. “If only—get those pills down you and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Hangover forgotten, Melissa cracked up laughing at the picture she mentally painted of Jeremy Thompson with his ardour somewhat dampened when a shout resounded from upstairs.
“That will be Hannah wanting help on the loo. I better go and check if she’s okay.”
“Rather you than me. Where’s her mother? Surely that’s her job?” Melissa shuddered as Rebecca bounded upstairs.
“Jen was away early. She left a note to say she had a meeting with suppliers in Christchurch. I don’t mind looking after the kids. It was what I was supposed to be here for,” she called cheerily down the stairs, pleased her sister was up and about. Not just because it was a good sign health-wise but because it would stave off the twenty questions she’d no doubt fire at her as to what Ciaran was doing here last night.
A moment later, though, she had to agree with Melissa as she handed her niece a wad of toilet paper and sent up a silent thank-you for small mercies, like not having a hangover herself. Leaving Hannah to stand on her hippopotamus stool to wash her hands, she decided to check on Jack. She found him orchestrating a head-on crash between his Porsche and Audi slot cars as they raced along the figure-eight track set up in the corner of his room.
“How’s it going? Ben will be round soon.”
“Yeah.” His voice was flat as the two cars smacked into each other. Rebecca ducked to avoid the Audi that came flying off the track as a result of the collision. Then, kneeling down next to him, she laid her hand on his shoulder but he flinched, mumbling, “Ben doesn’t have a mum, you know. He told me that she went away.”
Oh, shit, where was Doctor Phil when you needed him? How was she supposed to handle this one? It was one for Jennifer but then he didn’t seem to want much to do with his mother at the moment. “I know, sweetheart,” she said quietly. “Sometimes that happens. It is very sad but,” and she tried to inject some brightness into her voice, “Ben’s got a dad who loves him lots, and you do to
o.”
When this didn’t elicit a response, she clapped her hands together. “Hmm...now let me see. Your dad will be back in...” She counted on her fingers to demonstrate. “One, two, three, four, five, six sleeps. Mum’s only gone into town for the day; she’ll be home later this afternoon.”
Jack frowned. “I’m not a baby anymore, Auntie Becca.” Stretching over, he snatched up his toy Porsche and began turning it over to check for damage. “Ben told me he thought his mum was coming back, but she didn’t.”
“Jack, honey, your dad will be back, I promise.” Yes, she could promise he would be back but she couldn’t promise he would be back under the same roof as his children, she thought, putting her arm around him again and this time he let her.
Hearing voices from the living room below, she stood up and glanced at her watch. David and Ben were early. She gave her nephew a final pat on the shoulder. “Come on, love. Let’s head downstairs.”
Fifteen minutes later, they all piled up the stairs into the classroom. “Where’s Jennifer? I thought she’d be here,” David asked, his gaze scanning the room as Jack and Ben began doing a circuit around the benches. Hannah trotted off behind them, trying to keep up.
“Oh, she had to go into town to pick up supplies,” Rebecca answered, watching the Nifty Knitters, who were in full swing, bustling around. It was probably a good thing Jen had taken herself off for the day. There was no way she’d cope with this crowd. Betty, akin to a Girl Guide leader doing semaphore signals as she directed them here, there, and everywhere, spotted the small group gathered at the entrance, wiping her brow before calling out, “Come in! Phew, what a morning, but we got there in the end, didn’t we, ladies?”
“Yes!” the ladies all chimed.
Betty smiled at their enthusiasm. She beckoned her guests down to the dining room, and Rebecca attempted more introductions. The Nifty Knitters were like bees to honey with the arrival of a big strapping man in their midst. Rebecca and Melissa were shamelessly elbowed out of the semicircle. Reluctantly, they stepped back, and the frightened face of David Seagar re-emerged.
The scene that ensued reminded Rebecca of when she and Melissa had done the forty-hour famine as teenagers. They’d had the best of intentions, filling up their sponsorship books and sucking on their barley sugars every four hours. Then Melissa had broken down. Unable to take the pressure, she’d phoned Rebecca and told her she was holding a Toffee Pop biscuit in her hand.
“Don’t do it—don’t do it!” Rebecca had cried, but Melissa ignored her, making all sorts of orgasmic noises as she chomped into it in an attempt to corrupt her friend into doing the same. She’d been strong, though, and made it down to the school hall for the one-minute countdown. She could still see the table, legs bowed under the weight of shared party plates, as she waited impatiently alongside her fellow dribbling, pubescent participants. Five, four, three, two, one!!!! They’d stampeded over, and dove on that table like pigs let loose at a trough.
Yes indeed, quite similar to today’s little luncheon, she thought, watching the scuffle between two old dears for a seat next to David. She’d been tempted to join in herself, but the one with the blue rinse was stronger than she looked. Rebecca pulled Ben, Jack, and Hannah protectively to her side, and once the fracas died down, she dragged out seats for them on either side of her.
When everybody was at last seated, Betty stood to attention at the head of the table and tapped her glass with a spoon as she asked everyone to raise their glasses. “Before we begin, I would like to take a moment to welcome our guests today; though, most of you have already extended a warm welcome.” Her tongue-in-cheek comment was met with a smattering of girlish tittering. “And secondly, I would like to thank the Nifty Knitters, for being such wonderful pupils. I hope you have all had as much fun learning the art of Thai cookery as I have had in teaching it. Cheers.” She raised her glass, and her short speech was met with a frenzied clapping. “Well, everybody,” she shouted over the din, “the proof is in the pudding, or so they say. Dig in!”
Rebecca’s eyes stood out on stalks as she looked at the colourful array of food laid out in front of her. Crisped fish with chili-tamarind sauce and savoury fried shrimp cakes were the kids’ favourites as they talked with their mouths full, sending bits of mulched shrimp flying. She stole a surreptitious glance at David. He had a forkful of something interesting poised halfway to his mouth and was nodding his head intently. It was as though old Blue Rinse, who he was sitting next to, was the most fascinating woman he had ever met. He suddenly looked over at Rebecca and, meeting her gaze, winked. He was something special, she thought. She’d be a fool to write him off just because Ciaran had brought himself over here on a whim. She sucked up a noodle and hoped he hadn’t noticed it flick up to hit her on the nose.
Good wine, good food, and good conversation—the last bit was debatable—later, Rebecca reached across Jack and touched Betty lightly on her arm. “Thanks for last night and today, Betty. I hope you didn’t mind us springing the couple of extra guests on you?”
“Not at all.” She winked knowingly in David’s direction. “I thought you might have tried a bit harder, though.”
“Sorry?”
“Put it this way, dear: if I were thirty years younger, I would have made damn sure I was sitting next to him.”
Rebecca grinned sheepishly. “Age before beauty and all that.”
“Looks more like Beauty and the Beast to me.” They both looked over to where poor David was being monopolised by Blue Rinse and chuckled. Betty turned her attention back towards Rebecca. “What’s that on the end of your nose, dear?” She leaned in for a closer look.
“Snot probably,” Jack chimed in.
“Don’t be disgusting; it’s a bit of sauce,” Rebecca snapped, wiping it away quickly before glancing down the table to make sure nobody had overheard her charming nephew. Five minutes later, the children were playing a sort of game of Hide ‘n’ Seek. Hannah was yet to twig that the boys weren’t going to find her, having taken themselves off outside.
Melissa and Lois had been put in charge of coffee, and Rebecca glanced over to the hissing, sputtering machine in time to see Melissa batting bossy Lois’s hand away from the various nobs and switches. She smiled, catching David’s eye as she did so; he was grinning too, and she felt a warm tingly sensation that had nothing at all to do with the coffee. She swatted the mental picture of Ciaran holed up alone in his B&B away and focused her attention on Betty. She was giving another short speech before handing out the certificates that stated that each of the members of the Timaru Nifty Knitters had completed their Cuisine with Carlton’s course. There were much self-congratulating and pats on the back before everybody reluctantly got to their feet to begin the daunting task of clearing up.
“I’ll rinse; you can stack, dear,” Blue Rinse instructed David. Canny old bird, Rebecca thought half-admiringly, half-enviously; she just wanted a chance to view David’s backside as he bent over to stack the dishwasher. Hauling Hannah out from her hidey hole, she lifted her onto a stool by the sink she’d filled with bubbly water. Throwing in a few non-breakables for her to wash, she decided she’d be having a word with Jack later. Leaving his little sister to sit in a cupboard for half an hour just wasn’t right.
Once the classroom was restored to order, the Nifty Knitters reluctantly said their goodbyes to David, scurrying up to the cabins to attend to the last of their packing before their coach’s imminent arrival. David announced he had to make tracks. “Thanks for a great afternoon, Betty. Best food I’ve ever had.”
The group of five wandered outside, and he cupped his hands to either side of his mouth and shouted in the general direction of the back garden where the boys had last been spotted. “Ben, mate, we’re leaving!” After a few seconds, a tousled head appeared from around the side of the house, and David signalled that it was time to go. As he waited for his son, he shoved a hand into his pocket to produce his keys before turning towards Rebecca. “I enjoyed today; th
anks for inviting us along.”
She smiled shyly. “So did I.”
There was a split-second silence before he blurted, “Have you ever swum with the dolphins?”
For a moment, she was thrown. “Um, no...can’t say that I have. Why?”
“Do you fancy it?”
Oh yes, indeedy I fancy it, she thought, nodding and eyeing his muscular framework at the same time. Thank goodness she could multi-task.
“It’s just that I bumped into my mate Steve after you left the pub last night. He runs Spitfire Tours. Do you know the one?” The name rang a vague bell; she’d probably seen one of their boats in the harbour. “He owes me a favour and this time of year it’s not a problem to squeeze a couple of extra passengers on.” He looked at her expectantly.
“Won’t it be a bit cold?” She shivered at the thought.
“Nah, not once you’ve got the scuba gear on. It’s something else, I promise. Akaroa’s the only place in the world you can swim with the Hectors.” Seeing her nonplussed expression, he explained, “They’re the world’s rarest and smallest dolphin; I can’t even describe what it’s like being in the water with them.”
Orgasmic, she thought optimistically before giving his Jacques Cousteau impersonation a ten out of ten. Oh, what the hell; she could live without the experience of swimming next to frisky fish, but swimming next to David, well. “Sounds awesome; I’d love to.”
“Great! I’ll jack it up for one morning this week and let you know. How does that grab you?”
I wish you were grabbing me. “Great.”
After David climbed behind the wheel and turned the ignition, he popped his head out the open window. He shouted over the noise of the engine, “Hey Rebecca, I meant to ask you earlier, how’s Jennifer doing? I was hoping to catch up with her today.”
She was surprised at his question. Maybe he was better friends with Jen than she’d realised. “She’s okay. I’ll tell her you were asking after her.” Spying another vehicle coming up the drive, she added, “Hang on—she’s here now if you want to say hi.”
Michelle Vernal Box Set Page 76
