My stomach is knotted when I ask, ‘What happened to the baby?’
‘We had a lovely little girl called Skye.’ Ned pulls out his phone and scrolls through it. ‘She’s four now.’
He hands the phone to me. There’s a photo of a little girl who’s the very image of her father. She’s dressed as a fairy. ‘She’s adorable.’
‘Yeah.’
‘No disputing her paternity either.’
‘No.’ He laughs. ‘She’s like me too. Definitely a chip off the old block, if you don’t mind a sculpting pun.’
‘Where is she now?’
‘Back on the mainland. They live up in Northampton. Liberty went back to live with her parents to have the baby which was a godsend. They helped her to do all of the things that I should have been there to do. Eventually, she hooked up again with her old childhood boyfriend. He’s a great bloke and treats Skye like his own. The only downside is that I don’t see my girl often enough.’ He looks sad as he talks. ‘It’s been six months now. Liberty feels that it disrupts their life. They’ve got a kid of their own now too – a little boy. Libs says he gets upset if I want to take Skye away for the weekend. I’ve no idea if that’s true, but I go along with it. I can hardly stay at Liberty’s place with them all. Let’s face it, I’m not great father material.’
‘You’d be a wonderful dad,’ I counter.
‘I’m not so sure. I live from hand to mouth. Skye has a much more stable life with Libs and Adam. He’s a good bloke. Got his own business that has something to do with advertising on the internet. He’s funny and he’s kind to them both. Libs could have done a lot worse. At least there’s not some total arse bringing up my kid. He’ll do right by her. They’re not short of a bob or two either, so they have a comfortable house and a great lifestyle. I don’t want to be the one who messes that up for them. I figure that Skye will have more to do with me when she’s older and can make her own choices.’
‘She’s your daughter,’ I point out, needlessly. ‘She should be in your life.’
‘It’s not an easy situation. I don’t want to fight with Liberty. I have a good relationship with her. I help her when I can. I might not see Skye as much as I’d like, but I love her to bits. I hope she knows that.’
I give him his phone back. I wonder will I ever have pictures of own child to show people with pride shining in my eyes, as Ned’s are. This is the moment to tell him that I lost a child, that I’ve been desperate for a baby for the last few years. I should explain to him the cause of my sadness and why I think it’s so important for him not to let his own daughter slip away.
But, instead, he turns to me and takes my face in his hand and pulls me closer. His lips cover mine and they’re warm, soft and taste of rum. We kiss and kiss and kiss until my head spins and the moment for my confession is gone.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Without speaking, we move into the tent – the rum, shot glasses, the cushions, all forgotten – in our haste. We undress, tearing at our own clothes and each other’s as we fall onto the sleeping bags in the cramped space, lips still exploring as we do. We bang our heads, elbows, knees and, as we clutch at each other, try to smother the laughter at the comedy of our coupling so that we don’t wake the entire campsite.
As I’m tugging off Ned’s jeans, my dress, with something approaching lustful abandon, I realise that I didn’t know if I would ever feel like this again. All I want is this man inside me. After the baby, I couldn’t bear Chris to touch me. I resented him. I blamed him. And I certainly didn’t want another baby with him. I pushed Chris away and he, as it turns out, seemed to be more than happy to go. I should feel guilty that I’m about to sleep with another man, be unfaithful for the first time in my life, but I don’t. Technically, I have a husband but, emotionally and physically, we are so far apart that I don’t feel married any more. He’s with someone else, so why can’t I be? I feel alone and, if only for tonight, I don’t want to be. And I like this man who’s nearly naked in front of me. I like him a lot.
I’m thinking all of this, but not thinking it. My brain feels totally separate to my body which is lost in the heady sensation of being in Ned’s arms, my skin against his skin. It feels so familiar and yet so strange. I thought my body might be too tense, too uptight, too reluctant, but it isn’t. When we’ve finished wrestling out of our clothes in the confined space, Ned moves above me in the tiny tent, the sounds of the festival still in the background, kissing me tenderly as we make love. I surrender myself to him and enjoy every minute. Ida’s right, he’s a very skilled and caring lover.
When we’re sated, we lie in each other’s arms. Ned strokes my hair until, eventually, he drifts off to sleep. Then I curl up on my side and have a little cry – it’s not happy tears, nor sad, but more release and relief. The rain starts to fall, at first pattering on the canvas above us, then increasing to a soft persistent downpour. I listen to it and it feels like it’s cleansing my soul. Ned sleeps on, unaware, and I’m glad that I don’t disturb him; this is time for me to listen to the rain, to reflect. This night has proved that I can heal the emptiness inside me and that I can learn to love life once more. He’s helped me to feel normal again when I had actually lost sight of what normal might be. And, for that, I’m truly grateful.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Outside I can hear people chatting and laughing. There’s music playing and it’s clear that the campsite is getting ready for the new day.
Inside the cocoon of our own tent, my eyes are open and I’m looking at Ned, trying to fix this night in my memory, when he wakes up. His hair’s tousled from sleep and he looks even more attractive. I move closer to him, fitting my body along the length of his. Ned’s arm snakes round my waist and he holds me tight.
I kiss him. ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘For last night.’
He grins at me. ‘My pleasure.’
‘It was a big deal for me,’ I tell him. ‘I thought you should know that.’
‘It was quite a big deal for me too,’ he teases, but he doesn’t fully understand what I mean. How could he?
I realise, too, that this wasn’t anything to do with sleeping with Ned as some kind of tit-for-tat for Chris’s cheating. All it’s done is highlight that the cracks in my marriage have become a chasm. Plus, I have genuine feelings for this man. Would my stomach flip so readily as the mere sight of him, if it was nothing but a casual fling? He’s funny, laid-back and caring. I didn’t know that I needed that in my life, but I do.
‘I should thank you for the pep talk too,’ he says. ‘It made me appreciate that I should do more to keep in touch with Skye. I don’t want her growing up not knowing who I am. I’ll call Liberty and talk to her about it.’
‘I’m glad. You should.’
‘I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her and I wasn’t around. You’re right. I shouldn’t take the bond between us so lightly.’
‘She’s four,’ I say. ‘Plenty of time to make amends.’
‘No time like the present, though,’ he says. ‘I’ll try to get over to the mainland to see her as soon as I can. But for now . . . ’
His mouth covers mine again and we make love again. This time it’s slower, softer and I’m amazed at how comfortable we are together so soon. Afterwards, we lie in each other’s arms until we can put off getting up no longer.
Due to the lack of space, Ned pulls on his jeans first and goes out of the tent while I dress. I try my second festival outfit of a tie-dyed vest top and harem pants with an elephant print which seemed much in evidence. Outside there are still the shot glasses, the cushions, Ida’s rug. They’re all wet from the rain and I’m not sure there’s anywhere to dry them. With all that’s going on in her life, I’m not sure that a couple of soggy cushions will register.
Hand in hand, Ned and I walk in the damp grass and join the queue for the showers. I feel bad that Ida’s misfortune has meant that we could spend this time alone, but I feel as if I’m walking on air this morning. It sounds so stup
id and shallow, but you can’t believe what this has done for my confidence. And, if this was just a one-night stand for Ned, I can cope with that too. I know it’s not love, I’m not that gullible, but it was certainly done with care and affection.
Ned squeezes my hand. ‘OK? You look deep in thought.’
‘I’m good,’ I say. ‘In fact, I feel great.’
‘In need of breakfast?’
‘Oh, yes. I’m starving.’ Clearly, love makes you hungry as I’m ravenous.
When it’s our turn in the showers, the water is hot and plentiful and I’m grateful for that, too. I emerged refreshed and ready to meet the day.
We go down to the festival field and hit the street with all the food stalls. We grab full English burritos for brekky and Ned says, ‘I have a surprise for you.’
Once again we head into the woods, Ned leading the way. The earth smells intense and fecund after last night’s rain. ‘This is a secret part that not many people find.’
Beneath a large oak tree ahead of us there’s two sofas, a coffee table and a well-stocked library. Next to it is a dining table and two chairs.
‘I have a reservation,’ Neds says.
‘For us? Seriously?’
‘I know all the right people,’ he says with a twinkle in his eye. ‘We might not get waiter service, but it’s a very exclusive spot.’
He produces cutlery and napkins from his rucksack and holds out my chair for me. Then, in our oh-so-secluded al fresco dining room, we eat our burritos which are the messiest thing I’ve ever had to tackle.
Ned laughs as he wipes round my mouth with a napkin and I lick the remnants of egg and baked beans from my fingers. Beneath the table, our feet are entwined and, my hormones must still be running high, as I could throw him to the forest floor and make mad, passionate love right here. I so want to be with this man again. Perhaps we could extend this fling to more than one night. Ned certainly doesn’t seem to be in a rush to leave.
That’s when I get my first twinge of guilt. I should sort this out with Chris. Our relationship is over, that’s clear enough, but we should make the split formal, decide what paths we will take for the future. I’ll definitely speak to him this week to set things in motion. It has to be a divorce. I can see no other way. We had such hopes for our future, yet we’ve both left our marriage in a heap of dust.
‘I’ve got a few more sculpting sessions throughout the day.’ Ned breaks into my thoughts and I shake myself back to the present. ‘And the band are playing this afternoon. Are you happy entertaining yourself?’
‘Yes, sure. I’ll have a wander round and then I’ll head back for your sessions.’
‘I don’t expect you to come and watch me.’
‘I’d like to.’ I say. ‘I enjoy seeing how you work.’
He leans in and kisses me again. Within a second my body is on fire for him. No wonder Ida finds him so addictive. I should remember that this is a relaxed relationship – the way Ned likes them. It’s best for me too. There’s so much going on in my head that I’m probably not making good decisions. Though, I have to say, that spending the night with Ned seems to be one of my better ones.
So I spend the day drifting aimlessly round the festival while Ned goes off and does his thing. I do some outdoor yoga, along with about a hundred other people, and am glad that I bought the harem pants – a flirty little dress wouldn’t have worked quite so well for this. The yoga clears my head and sorts out some of the aching muscles, both from last night’s activity and, for what was left of the night, sleeping on the floor.
Heading into one of the many workshops that are on offer, I make a felted corsage. I pin the little posy to the collar of my denim jacket, feeling very proud of my achievement as I’m the least crafty person in the world.
When Ned starts to do his sculpting sessions, I sit on the grass near the front. Once again, I’m hypnotised by the way he moves and how he creates his sculptures so effortlessly. I’m pleased to see that he sells all of his pieces and, from the notes he’s jotting down between works, I’m guessing he’s got more openings for commissions too. Later, I listen to the band do their set at the end of the afternoon and then, too soon, it’s time for us to pack up and go.
Ned loads his sculpting stuff into the band van along with the instruments, while I wait patiently. People are drifting away from the festival, heading back to their normal lives and I feel a little bit sad to be leaving. This has been a great experience and a bubble of happiness for a couple of days.
As if reading my mind, Ned glances up from his work and says, ‘Glad you came?’
‘It’s been really brilliant,’ I tell him. ‘Every minute of it. I don’t want it to end.’
And I realise how much I mean that.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
It’s pushing into evening when Ned has finished at the festival field and we head back to the campsite to gather our belongings and pack away Ida’s tent. After the gloriously unseasonal weather, the rain has now settled in. At first a steady drizzle but, by the time we get back to the tent and start to take it down, it’s a relentless downpour. Within seconds, Ned and I are soaked through to the skin. My hair is plastered to my head and I don’t think that the glitter daisies on my cheeks are faring too well either.
We hurry as much as we can and haul our stuff to the car across a field that’s already wet after last night’s rain and is now rapidly turning to mud. We slip and slither and the truck wheels sink into the mire. Ned is muttering darkly. My poor flippy-floppy, beady sandals will be ruined and I can now see the attraction of festival wellies.
I’m shivering by the time we load up Ned’s car and when we get inside, he puts the heater on full blast.
‘We’ll be home soon,’ he says, which is optimistic as we join a massive queue of traffic that’s inching out of the car park. We sit there for ever, but he holds my hand while we do.
‘I’m not going to be able to check up on Ida tonight,’ he says. ‘We’ll be later back than I thought. But she seems OK. I called her earlier and, though she’s thoroughly pissed off, she thinks she can get the café open by tomorrow. Someone came today to reglaze the window and fix the door.’
‘That’s good news. I’ll pop in tomorrow too.’ I want to ask what she’d think if she knew how Ned and I had spent the night, but I don’t. If it was a one-off, she might never need to know. Though, if I’ve learned anything about Ida, it will be the first thing that she asks me when I see her and I’m not sure how I’ll handle it.
We eventually get going and Ned plugs in his iPhone and mellow music fills the car as we head back to Cockleshell Bay. The thing is, I really don’t want this to end. The nearer we get to home, the more I dread saying goodbye to Ned. We’re slowly slipping out of the delicious cocoon we’ve been in and, quite frankly, I’d be happy to stay there for ever.
The sun is going down and the dusk is gathering in when we pull up outside Sunny Days and Sea Breezes.
Ned kills the engine and turns to me. ‘Home.’
I sigh. ‘The first thing I’m going to do is jump in a hot shower.’
He takes a lock of my straggly hair and twines it round his finger. ‘Can I join you?’
‘Yes,’ I say without needing to think. I didn’t want this to end and it looks as if it won’t. ‘I’ve got food too. Thanks to Marilyn. We can have dinner afterwards.’
His smile widens. ‘Give me five minutes. I’ll throw my stuff inside and then I’ll be right with you.’
We climb out the car and he gives me a brief but passionate kiss before we unload our stuff from the boot and go our separate ways.
‘Don’t be long,’ I tell him.
‘As fast as I can,’ he agrees.
I’m singing to myself as I head down the gangway to Sunny Days, bag in hand. Ned surely must stay the night with me again? To be honest with you, I can’t wait to lose myself in the comfort of his arms once more. As my dear Marilyn might well say – I’m making play while the sun shines. It ma
kes me feel a little bit scared but more than excited too.
Unlocking the door I kick off my ruined shoes as I step inside. There’s mud all up the legs of my trousers, but I don’t care. It was all worth it. If you want to know, I just can’t stop grinning. I thought that Ned and I might have the one night together and then we would go back to being simply friends, but I get to hold him again. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.
Then I flick on the light and get the shock of my life.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
My heart is pounding in my chest and my mouth is dry when I ask, ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
My husband is standing, as large as life, in the kitchen. He’s wearing his favourite dark jacket – the one I bought him years ago on a trip to Rome because he’d forgotten to pack one and it was cooler than expected. There’s a bag at his feet, so he must have only recently arrived and he looks tired, drawn. Though I’ve known him for years he seems like a stranger to me.
Chris frowns at me. ‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me.’
‘You should have contacted me first,’ I say. ‘I left for a reason.’
Perhaps I should be pleased to see Chris, feel grateful that he’s made an effort to pursue me. Shouldn’t I want to go him, hold him, kiss him? Is that what he expected? Did he think I would run and throw myself into his arms? Instead, I’m rooted to the spot and feel nothing but cross with him.
‘I’ve been trying to get a reply from you since then,’ he points out. ‘I’ve been going out of my mind with worry. You’ve just cut me out, Jodie. That’s not fair.’
‘I think we’ve gone beyond “fair”.’ I might sound calm, but I’m shaking inside. How dare he just turn up out of the blue like this? I had bloody good cause not to have been replying to his text or calls.
Sunny Days and Sea Breezes Page 20
