Searching for Steven (Whitsborough Bay Trilogy Book 1)

by Jessica Redland

  Baths are great. But the average bath isn’t quite big enough for two adults and our demonstration of how much we loved each other caused a little bit of water displacement. Okay, a lot of water displacement. Which ran through the floorboards into the lights in the kitchen below and shorted the electrics in the whole flat. And the one next door. And the other buildings in our quad. Oops.

  I opened my eyes and reached for my glass of wine, grinning at the memory of us scuttling down the corridor to my room, Andy holding onto a pile of soggy clothes and towels and me clinging onto my bottles of toiletries; couldn’t leave any evidence behind to show who’d caused the black-out. I’d grabbed my hand towel from the sink and sent Andy back out into the dark corridor to mop up the wet trail. He’d only just made it back into my room, stark naked, when the lights came back on. There’d been an investigation, but we got away with it. Clare was the only person who ever knew it had been us who caused chaos that night. Well, I had to tell someone!

  I lay back in the bubbles sipping my wine. It had been an amazing night. But our whole relationship had been brilliant, which was why it hurt so much when it ended. I’d loved him so much. Did I still?

  ‘Are you covered?’ Andy called from outside the door about ten minutes later. ‘I wondered if you were ready for a top up.’

  I glanced towards my half-empty glass. ‘Go on, then. But no trying to peek through the bubbles.’

  Andy pushed open the door and kept his eyes firmly fixed on my face as he headed towards the bath and topped up my glass.

  ‘Is it hot enough for you? I know you like it boiling.’

  ‘It’s perfect.’

  ‘What are you grinning at?’

  ‘Don’t read anything into this,’ I said, ‘but I was thinking about the first time you ran me a bath.’

  He smiled. ‘The Valentine’s Ball. I was thinking about that earlier too. I wasn’t sure if you’d remember.’

  ‘Of course I remember. It was the first time you said you loved me.’

  ‘I don’t know why I took so long to say it.’ He kneeled down by the bath. ‘I loved you the moment I saw you.’ He smiled tenderly and my heart started racing. ‘That night,’ he continued, ‘I seem to recall telling you that I could see you in my life forever. Fast forward less than three years later and I let you slip away.’ He looked so vulnerable again and also so very attractive in the candlelight.

  ‘You have to stop punishing yourself,’ I said. ‘You’re forgiven. Let’s stop focusing on what might have been and focus on the here and now. One day at a time.’

  Andy sighed and stood up. He tucked a curl behind my ear. I held my breath at his touch and my stomach flipped. ‘You’re an amazing woman, Sarah Peterson. Thank you for being so understanding.’

  I smiled and nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak in case I let my alcohol-fuzzy head take control and suggest we relive the night of the Valentine’s Ball.

  ‘I’m confused.’ Fifteen minutes later I stared at my plate of beans on toast. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Andy. This looks delicious, but I was sure I could smell mince earlier. Am I going mad?’

  ‘Ah! Slight change of plan. I tried to impress you by making a chilli. You know how I was never great at cooking? If it’s possible, I’ve got worse. I burnt the chilli. I may owe you a new pan. I think I welded it to the bottom.’

  I laughed. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘I didn’t think there’d be any takeaways open with it being Christmas Day so I had a bit of a panic. Then I realised making you a big tea was a stupid idea because you’ll have had a huge dinner and probably only want something light. So, voilà!’

  ‘I’d probably have struggled with a big meal. This is spot on.’

  ‘Tell me honestly. Did you enjoy your bath?’ Andy asked, when we’d finished our meal. ‘Was it the right thing to do?’

  ‘It was unexpected but perfect. I mean that. Thank you.’

  ‘It looked pretty good. I was tempted to join you.’

  ‘You should have.’ Oh my God! Engage brain first!

  Andy laughed. ‘You should see the look on your face. I take it you weren’t meant to say that aloud?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you did. I know you’re not promising anything but for that thought to even cross your mind, it shows that you’re thinking of me as something other than a friend. If only for a brief moment.’

  ‘I…’ Maybe I should have stayed sober. My decisions when inebriated were frequently ill-advised. The phrase, ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time’ was invented for me after a few drinks.

  ‘Do you have any plans for tomorrow?’ Andy asked when we moved into the lounge after tea.

  It dawned on me that I’d been so busy that I hadn’t planned beyond Christmas Day. ‘Not yet. Why?’

  ‘Would you do me the honour of spending the day with me?’

  I smiled. ‘If you’re as good company as you’ve been the last couple of days, I might be able to cope with it.’

  ‘That’s a relief. I’ve organised a surprise for you.’ Andy looked very pleased with himself.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It won’t be a surprise if I tell you, will it? I’ll pick you up at half five.’

  I spluttered on my wine. ‘In the morning?’

  He nodded. ‘You should dress warmly. Lots of layers. And wear sensible shoes. Oh, and you’ll need a hat.’

  ‘What are we doing? Conquering Everest?’

  ‘Patience. You’ll find out tomorrow. I think you’ll like it. In fact, I know you’ll like it.’

  Andy insisted on doing the washing up and leaving by ten so I could get a good night’s sleep. He gave me a gentle kiss on the lips again as he left. It was slightly longer this time but still nowhere near what Elise and I would have referred to at school as ‘snogging’. The fact that he wasn’t pushing me earned him massive Brownie Points.

  My head felt fuzzy from a steady flow of drink across the afternoon and evening and my whole body felt weary. I blew out the candles, spread the dying embers in the fire, and put the lamps off. As I poked my head into the dining room to check there were no candles still on in there, I felt drawn towards the computer.

  I clicked on Facebook as I hadn’t had a chance to look at it for a few days. My newsfeed was full of Christmas best wishes and comments from friends and acquaintances about their Christmas Day, predominantly referencing too much food, too much drink, too many sweets, and too much money spent. Surely that was what Christmas was all about; too much of everything! One of the entries was from Nick.

  Nick Derbyshire

  Happy Christmas to all my friends and family

  5 hours ago via mobile

  How was he? Was he sad? Had I ruined his Christmas? I clicked onto his timeline, feeling an overwhelming desire to connect with him. I scrolled down his messages, building up a picture of the past week.

  Skye Harris > Nick Derbyshire

  Are you OK? Tried phoning you a few times & keep getting voicemail. Stuart says you seem down and your last post is very unlike you :( xx

  Monday at 8.38pm

  Nick Derbyshire I’ll text you

  Monday at 8.53pm

  Marcus Jones > Nick Derbyshire

  Thanks for finishing that job for us. Have a great Christmas break. We’ll catch up in the New Year

  Monday at 10.11am

  Nick Derbyshire

  has had enough of this year. How long till the next one?

  Sunday at 11.46pm

  Skye Harris Cheer up you :) xx

  Callie Michaels You OK big bruv? I’m just a phone call away if you need me xx

  Nick Derbyshire

  Just had the most amazing evening ever

  Saturday at 1.33am

  Callie Michaels Spill!!!!

  Skye Harris
This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain young florist, would it?

  Nick Derbyshire Might have! :)

  Skye Harris YEEAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! You’re so perfect for each other. Fancy a coffee later to catch up?

  Nick Derbyshire Skye — 2pm in The Chocolate Pot? Callie — will call you soon x

  I scrolled up and down between the few short entries that told such a story from elation to devastation. ‘Have I really caused all that? I’m so sorry Nick.’

  With a heavy heart, I closed down the computer and slowly padded upstairs to bed where I lay for the next two hours cuddling Mr Pink and staring into the darkness, trying to work out how I felt about the two men in my life. When fatigue finally overcame me, I still hadn’t reached a conclusion but I had realised one thing: I hadn’t replied to Nick’s text. It had come through while I was basting the turkey for Mum and I’d made a mental note to reply later when I had time to think of an appropriate message that didn’t come across as a brush-off. I wanted to show him I still cared. Yes, Sarah, you showed you really cared by forgetting to reply altogether. You absolute muppet. I kicked myself and hoped that my rudeness hadn’t caused him any further distress.

  Chapter 31

  ‘Castle Howard?’ I asked. Andy directed the sporty two-seater he’d hired off the A64 at about six the following morning.

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘Unless you’re planning to ditch me in a field in the middle of nowhere, Castle Howard’s the only place of consequence down here.’

  ‘Then we might be going to Castle Howard. Or we might not.’

  ‘You’re so frustrating, Andrew Steven Kerr.’ My stomach lurched as I said his middle name. I hated this. Was he The Steven or not? Was he the heart or the head decision?

  ‘And you are so impatient, Sarah Louise Peterson.’

  A few more turns and we were definitely on our way to Castle Howard, a magnificent eighteenth-century house and 1000-acre estate at which I’d enjoyed many a family day out over the years. Can’t say I’d ever been there before sunrise, though.

  ‘You were right. Castle Howard it is,’ Andy said, pulling onto the approach road to the estate. A few minutes later, we pulled into the empty visitor car park. ‘Wait here a moment,’ he said. ‘I just need to check that it’s happening. I may be about twenty minutes. I’ll leave the engine running to keep you warm.’

  ‘Check that what’s happening?’ But he was already out of the car and heading towards the visitor’s entrance. I sank back in my seat, enjoying the heat and the low soothing music on the radio. I must have dozed off as the door opening startled me.

  ‘Were you asleep?’

  ‘No. I was, er…’

  ‘You were asleep. You’re drooling!’

  I reached up and wiped at my mouth. ‘Hmm, I bet that’s attractive.’

  ‘Even drooling, you’re still gorgeous. Come on. It’s on.’

  Andy offered a hand as I heaved myself out of the car. He pulled my hat onto my head then took my hand again. ‘No more questions,’ he said. ‘All will be revealed in about seven minutes.’

  We made our way across the deserted courtyard. I was so used to being there in broad daylight surrounded by tourists that I felt like an intruder. We skirted round to the left. I could just make out the dark shape of the house in the distance.

  ‘Are you sure we’re meant to be here?’ I whispered. ‘It’s so quiet.’

  Andy squeezed my hand tightly. ‘I’m sure. It’s all arranged.’

  We headed down the drive towards the house. And then I saw it, a flash of orange. I stopped dead.

  ‘Andy. Is that what I think it is?’

  ‘It depends what you think it is.’

  ‘I daren’t say in case I’m wrong.’

  ‘Then let’s move a bit closer.’

  Mesmerised, I crept down the drive towards the lawns. With every step, the sky seemed to get a fraction lighter until my eyes could clearly see something I’d always dreamed of but had never had the funds nor opportunity to experience; a hot air balloon.

  ‘You remembered.’ Andy had once asked me what would be the top of my bucket list and I’d said a hot air balloon ride. Ideally it would be over The Grand Canyon although I’d happily do it over Spaghetti Junction for the experience.

  ‘I always swore to myself that, when I could afford it, I’d be the one to fulfil that dream for you. Happy Christmas, Sarah.’

  ‘Oh my God! Andy!’ A lump caught in my throat. ‘It’s the best present ever. I can’t believe you’ve organised this. For me.’ I turned to give him a hug. He held me tightly.

  ‘I’d do anything for you, Sarah,’ he whispered.

  I didn’t want to let go and clearly Andy didn’t want to either. I’d been holding back on him as it hadn’t felt right but, at that very moment, everything seemed to click into place and every sense was screaming at me to kiss him. I couldn’t fight my instincts.

  It felt like we’d never been apart; so familiar and yet new at the same time. I’d always thought he was a great kisser but he’d improved. I hoped I’d done the same.

  ‘Oi, Andy, do you want a ride in this thing or not?’ The unexpected shout broke us apart. We looked at each other and laughed.

  ‘Thank you,’ Andy said.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For that. I know it doesn’t guarantee anything but you wouldn’t have kissed me like that if I didn’t mean something to you.’

  ‘Andy, you’ve always meant something to me.’

  Andy smiled and gave me another brief kiss. ‘We’d better hurry. Last one to the balloon’s a rotten egg.’

  I squealed as I raced after him down the drive.

  Andy couldn’t have organised a more perfect day. The sunrise champagne balloon flight was followed by a mooch round the grounds of Castle Howard, lunch in a quaint country pub, then a romantic walk along the seafront back at Whitsborough Bay. He dropped me off at Smuggler’s View late in the afternoon, saying he’d leave me in peace for the evening after hogging me for most of the last twenty-four hours. He asked if he could see me after work the next day because he had another surprise planned.

  ‘I’ll miss you,’ he said before kissing me goodbye. I could tell from the urgency behind his kiss that he wanted me to invite him in and take things a bit further. That wasn’t going to happen.

  ‘Go away!’ I joked. ‘You promised to leave me in peace.’ I gave him a playful push down the path.

  I closed the door and leaned against it. A sigh of relief escaped from me, which was very unexpected considering the amazing day we’d just shared. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe I needed a little me-time after being constantly surrounded by people since the shop opened. Yes, that would be it.

  I walked into the lounge and instinctively reached for the phone to invite Elise round. She said she’d drive over as soon as she’d finished her tea, which meant I had half an hour; plenty of time to catch up with Clare. I frowned just before I phoned her. Hmm. If I’d just invited Elise round and was about to call Clare, I obviously wasn’t that desperate for some me-time. What did that mean?

  ‘Sorry, Sarah,’ Clare said when I finished my update. ‘I know you had a great relationship back in the day but I don’t trust him now. I know you’ll think I’m being cynical but it strikes me that your man Andy’s trying a bit too hard.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘It seems to me that he’s doing everything he can to tap into your best memories of your time together and is flashing his cash trying to spoil you.’

  ‘Because he took me on a hot air balloon?’

  ‘For starters. That’ll have cost him an absolute bomb. But even the free things like running the bath to remind you of the power cut incident. Don’t you think that’s a bit planned? That night was one of the key moments in your relationship and I bet he did it j
ust to get you thinking of it again.’

  I laughed. ‘Clare! You’re right. I do think you’re being cynical. Plus, what’s so bad about him making a bit of effort? He’s got a lot of making up to do.’

  ‘It’s hard to explain what I mean.’ Clare sighed and paused, obviously trying to find the right words. ‘It all seems too engineered; too romantic-movie-perfect. A balloon flight, a walk round a stately home, a posh lunch in a country pub with a roaring log fire, a walk along the beach… I bet he chased you along the sand then picked you up squealing and threatened to throw you into the sea so you clung tighter to him. The laughter stopped as you both looked deep into each other’s eyes and kissed as the wind whipped your hair and the waves crashed around you like Whitsborough Bay’s answer to Cathy and Heathcliff.’

  ‘How…?’

  ‘Jesus, Sarah, you did didn’t you? Will you not see my point? It’s like he’s been watching back-to-back chick flicks — probably worked his way through your DVD collection on Christmas Day — and he’s contrived a day full of movie-perfect moments. I think the only thing he missed out was some fireworks, which is surprising because he must remember how much you love them.’

  Could she be right? Did I also think that deep down? Was that why I felt relieved when he left earlier?

  Clare continued. ‘Something doesn’t add up. I think there’s more to his sudden declaration of undying devotion than he’s letting on.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘That’s the part I can’t get my head round. But when I do, you’ll be the first to know.’

  The exact opposite to Clare, Elise poured over our romantic day, insisting I provide her with details about each and every kiss or touch and how it made me feel. She wanted a vivid description of the balloon flight: what we could see, how cold the champagne was, how hot the flame was, how much it might have cost Andy, and when I thought he’d organised it all.

  ‘It really does sound perfect,’ she said when we’d analysed every minute detail. ‘You’ve obviously got feelings for him but are they based on nostalgia or the here and now?’

  I shrugged. ‘That’s what I’m struggling with.’