She felt her face start to grow warm with the memories. “It was OK, I suppose,” she teased.
“Fibber,” he said tenderly. “You’ve not been able to stop thinking about it either; I can see it in your face.”
And then he dipped his head and kissed her again until they were both breathless and so close that their noses were touching. Pressing another kiss against her forehead, he sat back and sighed wearily.
“I can’t stay away from you, Mo. It’s hopeless.”
“I could have told you that,” said Mo. “You did a good job of trying though.”
“I nearly didn’t,” Ashley admitted. “I was going to tell you the truth that day I had the phone call in the yard, do you remember?”
Mo nodded. “Of course I do. It didn’t make sense. Everything was wonderful one moment and then nothing. You left straightway and I had no idea why.”
“Of course you didn’t. How could you?” He closed his eyes in despair and when he reopened them they were bright with unshed tears. “Mo, how could I tell you that I loved you when my consultant had just phoned to summon me back for an emergency appointment? How could I let you become any more involved? Or be hurt by what was going to happen? It was kinder to withdraw totally and let you think I’d just used you. And if you’d decided to stay with me out of pity, that would have been even worse. Christ, anything but that.”
Mo was angry now. It was easier to be angry. “Those weren’t your choices to make! How bloody typical! Those were my decisions, Ashley! You had no right to make them for me.”
“Maybe not, but I made them because I thought they were the right ones.” He took her small work-roughened hand with its bitten nails and kissed the palm, folding her fingers over it as though sealing the kiss inside like a gift. She wanted to hold it there forever.
“Mo, the consultant was calling because the latest tests show that the tumour growth has accelerated way faster than we’d anticipated. There are weeks rather than months now until it’ll be close enough for the team to attempt surgery.”
“But surgery’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Mo asked. Her voice sounded small and even further away than the gulls that were wheeling high above Mariners, their cries as thin as the soundtrack to another life. “Doesn’t it mean they can make you better?”
Ashley wove his fingers through hers again. The kiss in her hand fluttered away and Mo’s vision swam.
“I wish I could say that you’re right, but this is neurosurgery and it’s risky. It might work. It might not. There’s a high chance I might not make it through the operation – and even if I do, there’s no guarantee I’ll come round or even that it will be successful. There may be more treatments and more operations. I might not even be able to speak or walk.”
Tears spilled from her eyes. “Ashley, I am so sorry.”
He squeezed her hand. “Sweetheart, how could I put you through all that? I could be left with no choice but to leave you behind, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that. It seemed kinder not to let you any nearer. I’d rather you just remembered me as a pain in the arse,” he gave her a grin, “albeit a sexy one who was great in bed, obviously, instead of some guy who got sick. I wanted you to be my lover.” His voice cracked. “Not my carer. Never that. Do you see now why I had to walk away?”
Mo did see but she also saw that it had been pointless. Love didn’t work like that, did it? You couldn’t just turn it off when it wasn’t convenient. Now that Mo loved Ashley, she loved him with every fibre of her being and every beat of her fiery heart. There was no going back.
“It’s too late for that,” she said, reaching out and touching his face. “I am involved and I’m not walking away even if you tell me to. There’s no point arguing about it, because I’m staying.”
“Mo, you can’t do that. There’s no need and, anyway, I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“I love you, Ashley.”
There. She’d said it out loud again. Funny how easy it was to say those words in the end – and now they were out, never to be taken back.
“You really love me?” Ashley said in wonder. “Seriously? After everything that’s happened and all my tree-killing ways?”
“I know. It’s amazing isn’t it?” Mo agreed. “You don’t ride, you have a boat with a stupid name and you wear watches that cost more than my car.”
He grimaced. “I guess I asked for that. Anyway, only the Rolex costs more than a car. And in fairness, Red, your car is basically scrap anyway.” Then the smile faded. “Mo, this isn’t going to be easy on either of us. Are we mad to even try?”
“Probably, but no madder than anyone else, Ashley. There are no guarantees in life.” She wound her arms around his neck. “Does anyone really know how much time they have?”
“No, but—”
“So that’s it.” Mo silenced any more protests with a kiss. When they broke apart, she pushed her hair back and smiled at him. Inside, her heart was singing and breaking all at once. She was through with playing it safe and it felt good to seize the present moment and leap in. Time was no longer a luxury they had – and neither was it a hindrance anymore. “I love you, Ashley Carstairs, and I think that if I’m honest I’ve loved you for a very long time. I’ve never felt about any man the way I feel about you. It makes no sense at all, and that’s why I totally and utterly trust it.”
This was the point where Ashley would tell her that it didn’t matter how she felt, that she was better off without him, and Mo braced herself. But all he said instead was, “Mo, are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.” She looked at him. “Are you?”
Ashley didn’t answer; he simply drew her close and kissed her. Mo kissed him back, with passionate and longing kisses that erased anything else except the pure joy of being close. Mo knew with every hungry kiss that he felt exactly the same way. There was no need to try reasoning with this now. They were together and she knew that whatever came next, together was the way they would fight it. For now though, she was happy to be lost in him and a world of limb-melting sensation.
A loud and awkward throat-clearing tugged them back to the present.
“When you’ve finished with Miss September,” said Big Rog Pollard, indignantly. “I’d like that scaffolding plank back.”
Mo had a sudden urge to giggle. Big Rog looked quite offended, as though his scaffolding shouldn’t have been exposed to such behaviour.
“We’ll leave you to get on,” Ashley told his builder. On his feet now, he held out his hand to Mo. “Come on, Red, let’s go and find somewhere we can really talk.”
“Didn’t look much like talking to me,” muttered Big Rog.
“You’re right,” Mo nodded. Rising onto her tiptoes, she kissed Ashley again. “Fancy checking out my hay barn? And my impressive whip collection?”
Big Rog’s eyes were as round as saucers. This was serious Polwenna Bay gossip. Mo knew full well that the minute she was out of sight he’d be calling Sheila Keverne in the shop and the drums would start beating in earnest. Before she and Ashley were even back inside Mariners the whole village would know they were an item.
Good. That meant there was no way he could back out now. Tumours or no tumours, she refused to step away from this. Ashley Carstairs was the only man that Morwenna Tremaine had ever loved.
She was never letting him go again.
Chapter 19
If the Reverend Jules was surprised to see sworn enemies Morwenna Tremaine and Ashley Carstairs sitting together in St Wenn’s then she was professional enough to hide it. Instead, she merely nodded her head in their direction before continuing on her way through the nave and into the vestry.
No wonder Danny liked her so much, Mo thought. Jules never pushed or pried but instead left you in peace until you felt inclined or ready to talk. In that respect, and just about every other, she was the polar opposite of Danny’s estranged wife Tara, who, like Polwenna Bay’s answer to Jeremy Kyle, loved nothing more than to pry into what people really felt and
thought. One day somebody would tell her the truth and then Tara should watch out.
Mo really hoped she’d be there to witness that day when it came.
“Jules is getting used to finding me here. I’ve become something of a fixture recently,” Ashley explained once the vestry door had clicked shut behind the vicar.
“I’ve seen you here too, quite a few times. We all thought you were going to buy the place,” Mo reminded him.
Their hands were clasped as they sat together on the pew; his fitted hers perfectly and Mo had no intention of ever letting it go again. She gave his fingers an apologetic squeeze. “I feel bad now because nobody dreamed you’d be here because you genuinely like the place.”
Ashley smiled. “The irony is that I can’t think of anything worse than St Wenn’s being lost. It’s such a special place. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking here lately – and trying to make a few bargains with God too, although I know that isn’t how it really works.”
Mo had a feeling that she was going to be making lots of those too in the weeks ahead. “So you really do come here to pray?”
He raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her yard-roughened knuckles. “One of my prayers has certainly been answered. Look, I’m not saying that I’m religious or anything, Red, but coming here makes me feel peaceful. There’s a real timeless quality about it, as though something of all those centuries of prayer echoes through the place. I really don’t think it should ever be anything other than a church.”
They fell silent for a moment. Ashley was right, Mo thought. There was a stillness to St Wenn’s that slowed the heartbeat, a blanket of calm that wrapped itself around you and soothed away the stresses and heartbreaks that lay beyond. The rest of the world seemed to recede and slip quietly away. She wondered how many other villagers came here to reflect and to talk to God? Probably more than she had ever imagined.
“Is that why you bought so many calendars? To help save the church?”
Ashley gave Mo a look that heated her blood by a couple of degrees and made her think of things that probably shouldn’t be thought about in a church.
“Don’t be daft, Red. We both know why I did that. September is an amazing month, I find. I must have a closer look at it, don’t you think?”
Mo did think, but she was trying to rein in her bolting fantasies. She’d be struck by lightning if she wasn’t careful. As it was, her face felt as though it was on fire.
“Anyway,” Ashley continued, sounding regretful, “the calendar and the fundraising won’t really solve anything. Jules says the bishop wants evidence that the church is really used by the village, so a fat bank balance isn’t the answer. If it were that easy I’d have donated a load of cash ages ago and got a few more cosmic brownie points.”
His tone was flippant but Mo could hear the fear beneath his words and it broke her heart. She had more insight now into the complexities that defined him than she could ever have wanted or imagined.
After Roger Pollard had interrupted them they had abandoned Mariners for a walk through Fernside and to St Wenn’s. As they’d made their way along the sun-dappled path, Ashley had told Mo all about his illness and the pressing need to bring his surgery forward. It had never taken Mo so long to walk that route (it usually took only twenty minutes), but then she’d never talked so much or stopped to kiss anyone every three footsteps before. They’d wasted so much time apart that she couldn’t bear another second away from him. Judging by the urgent way his mouth had come down upon hers, Ashley felt exactly the same way.
By the time they’d reached the church, entering by an unspoken accord, Mo knew that she wasn’t the same person who’d sprung out of bed that morning. Everything in her world had changed. It was as though she’d been looking at the view through the wrong end of a pair of binoculars and had just flipped them around, bringing it all into focus. Previously nebulous thoughts were suddenly crystal clear and what had seemed to be so vitally important only hours ago now faded into insignificance.
Time was precious and slipping through her fingers like quicksilver. She needed to get to know Ashley better, and fast.
So now, sitting in the peace of St Wenn’s with rainbows of coloured light streaming through the stained-glass windows and memorials to long-dead Tremaines all around her, Mo knew that this very minute was their time to start living. People could be snatched away from you at any moment – she’d learned that at a young age – but it was only when you were slapped in the face with a finite amount of time that the truth sank in.
They would need to do in a matter of weeks what took other people months or even years. As she watched the dust motes dance and twirl in the shards of emerald, sapphire and gold light, Mo knew that there would be sacrifices to make and heartbreak to come, but she found that she was at peace with this knowledge. Leaning her head on Ashley’s shoulder, she believed with all her heart that it would be worth every second. Some people could live a lifetime and never feel like this. How lucky was she to have found him?
She tightened her clasp on his hand.
“So what now?” Ashley asked quietly. He stared straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the altar, as though unable to face her. “You know the ugly truth about me, Mo, and let’s face it, I’m not exactly a great long-term investment. If you wanted to step away right now I’d understand. It makes sense.”
“Nice try,” Mo said, “but you don’t get rid of me that easily. How many weeks do you think we have before the surgery?”
He turned to face her, shocked. “We?”
“Yes, we. I’m in this too now. You jump, I jump, remember?”
Ashley rolled his eyes. “Since when was this the Titanic? Or was that a very ill-thought-out sinking ship analogy?”
Mo dug her elbow into his ribs. “Stop being sarcastic. I’m serious. I don’t want us to waste a minute, so how long? And don’t be conservative. Be honest.”
“A month? Six weeks?” He passed a hand wearily over his face. “Mo, I’m not sure but I do know I’m getting weaker. The headaches are stronger and I’m needing more medication just to function. Last night was a big mistake and I’m really paying for it today. Even walking here has taken it out of me. I’m not an idiot; I know I’m deteriorating.”
Mo could see it too. In just the two hours they’d been together she’d seen the shadows deepen under his eyes, and she could sense the effort it took him just to talk.
“Then I want to spend as much of that time with you as possible,” she said firmly. “If you want me to, of course?”
“If I want you too?” Ashley shook his head. “There’s nothing I want more, Mo, but it might not be easy—”
“I don’t care about easy.”
He exhaled slowly and she leaned into him.
“I’ve only just found you,” she said simply, “but I know I’ve never felt like this before, Ashley. Maybe I never will again? There are never any guarantees anyway, but I do know that I love you and I’ve never said that to anyone else – or anyone else who doesn’t have four legs, at least! I want us to make the most of every moment we do have. Don’t you?”
Ashley put his arm around her and held her close. In the quiet of the church Mo was sure she could hear his heart beating. She held her breath. She didn’t think she could bear it if he said he still wanted her to step away.
“Absolutely,” he agreed, and she sagged with relief. “But what about the eventing season? Your career? The horses? You can’t neglect those things on my account. I won’t let you, not when you’ve worked so hard.”
And then a strange thing happened: Mo discovered that her urge to compete and to win was no longer her raison d’être. Yes, she still wanted to nail a grand slam and yes, Olympic gold was still beckoning – but there would always be another Badminton or another Olympics. Whereas there would never again be this time with Ashley.
It might be the only time they ever had…
“Mr Dandy’s lame,” Mo said thoughtfully. “The Bandmaster isn
’t ready and Splash is a liability. If I’m honest, I’m not ready for the season. It will do them good to have a month or so off and come back into work in the late autumn. I’ve still got my teaching and hopefully I’ll get more liveries or sell some youngsters. If I can find a teenager to help at the yard part time then that would mean I could spend more time with you.”
Ashley pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. “I’m Cashley, remember? Let me take care of that.”
“No way are you footing the bills,” Mo said staunchly. “I’m a feminist.”
“Burn your bra by all means, but if you’re putting your business and career on hold because of me then the very least I can do is help with the finances.” Ashley gave her a serious look. “I mean it, Mo. If we’re together then we’re partners and that means we support each other. I’m pretty bloody – sorry, Lord – pretty useless at the moment, so at least let me help you in one way that I still can. Besides,” he pulled a rueful face, “they tell me you can’t take it with you when you go, so I’d better get spending. You’ll be doing me a favour.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Please don’t say things like that, not even as a joke.”
But Ashley wasn’t budging on this point. “It’s the truth, Mo, and it’s my only condition. Don’t look at me like that. There’s no point trying to change my mind. You’d have more luck getting Big Eddie Penhalligan to give up beer.”
For a moment Mo struggled. Fiercely independent and used to doing everything alone, she wasn’t sure at all how she felt about accepting financial assistance. Allowing Ashley to pay for help at the yard felt like a failure.
“Look on it this way: I need you free to teach me to ride,” Ashley pointed out, sensing her dilemma. “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be up for that anyway, so we need to get going and you’ll need all the spare time you can get. Look on me as just your most difficult customer.”
“You’re certainly my most demanding one,” Mo grumbled, blinking her tears away.
A Time for Living: Polwenna Bay 2 Page 18
