Coming Home

by Rosie MacDonald

  He was kind of cute, in a very pretty boy kind of a way, she thought. Anna had always enjoyed being found attractive, but she was, for once, not going to get herself into trouble over a guy. A last fling with someone, just because he got her a bit hot under the collar, would only confuse things. She had to save some money, and get back home. She needed this job too much - and a mucked up relationship with the boss’s son could put everything in jeopardy. She knew she had to go back to real life, and she had to go back to the man she now knew she loved with all her heart, if nothing else to find out if she still had a place in his.

  Anna knew that Jim may have forgotten her, and moved on with his life. He deserved to have a wonderful woman, and gorgeous babies. He would make such an amazing dad. But she also knew she had to go back, and try to fight for him if he was still free. She would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t.

  Still, it would take her a while to raise the $1,000 she needed for her ticket home, and it looked like Daphne would really need her help until Tom was fully healed. Thankfully, or so it seemed, she had managed to keep enough luck in the bottom of her rucksack to land in the right bar at the right time. She had a job for three months, which if her calculations were right, would mean she’d have more than enough to get back home again. But would she be too late? And would Tom respect her enough to leave her alone? She didn’t entirely trust herself not to succumb to the smooth-talking, handsome man who had so clearly decided to make her his next conquest.

  Chapter Two

  As soon as he saw the airmail envelope with the Australian stamp, Jim knew that tonight would be another restless, dream-filled sleep. He both cherished and dreaded the arrival of these erratically-sent missives from all around the world. In so many ways, it would be easier if he never had anything to do with her ever again, and yet his heart melted every time Jim saw her rounded scrawl on an envelope, touched to be one of the people she had remained in contact with - one of the privileged few she kept up to date with her adventures.

  Anna Craven was the love of his life, and every letter she sent just made it clear to him that, to her, he was just a good buddy, someone to rely on, but never to be ‘The One’. She wrote about her travels, the things she saw, the people she met - and the men she dated. She was obviously oblivious to the effect the knowledge would have on her reader. But he couldn’t ever bring himself not to read them, even though he could feel the green-eyed monster rise up within him with her every word.

  He never threw them away either. He cherished every single one, and kept them safe in a beautiful wooden box by his bed. His eighteen year-old Grandpa had made it in 1942, for his sixteen year-old sweetheart to keep his letters in, when he had gone off to fight in the war. Grandpa had come home in 1946 an older and wiser man, and he had married his sweetheart as soon as the banns could be posted. All Nanna’s letters to the front, and his back to her, were still stored safely in the box, tied with an old, yellowed satin ribbon – a testimony that love can survive, and even flourish, in the most testing of times. At least Nanna had known that Grandpa loved her, and would come home to her if he could.

  Jim still had hope, but he had no idea if Anna would ever return to Castle Cluny at all – let alone come back to be with him. He remembered, as if it were yesterday, the first moment he had realised that he loved Anna Craven. He had been eleven, and she was just seven. It had been a dull day - one of those that ominously threatened rain, but for some reason didn’t quite deliver. He heard a sound that had never before reached his ears. A peal of giggles had lifted his spirits - rather than simply annoying or irritating him.

  That glorious sound had rung out, above all others. Laughter, so joyous and contagious, that he had found himself grinning on the other side of the playground, as he watched the blond ringlets of the girl on the climbing frame bobbing along with her chuckles. She looked as tiny and fragile as a porcelain doll, with the face of an angel, and he gave her his heart in that instant. Not that she would ever know, or ever be able to give it back to him.

  Jim had watched over her as she grew, proud of his self-appointed role as protector, but he had kept his love secret, too scared that she would reject him. He had contented himself playing the safer role of big brother. She broke boys’ hearts. She didn’t mean to; she had no control over it. She was just that kind of girl. But, while other boys came and went in her life, Jim had remained a constant. He had decided very early on that he would rather be in her life as a brother-figure, than be cast aside like all the other boys - and he tried to kid himself that he was content. But it hurt him to the core every time she dated another guy, and a small part of him died with every boy that wasn’t him.

  Then, miraculously things had changed. It was almost as if Anna started to truly see him for the first time - as she turned seventeen, and he twenty-one. Jim was in heaven. Finally, it seemed that his patience had paid off, and they dated exclusively for just under a year. They had done everything that young couples should: picnics on sunny days, movies, date nights, and snowball fights in winter. They had experienced the bliss of a mutual shedding of their virginity, and exploring everything this new-found sexuality brought to their lives.

  And then, she was gone, and all he had left of her were these blasted letters which came every month or so, telling him just how great her life was without him. He prayed a thousand times a day that she would change her mind about seeing the world, that she would come back home to him. But all that ever came was another letter, from another place, in another country, on another continent. It was never her - with her joyful giggle, soft blond curls, and curvaceous figure.

  God, he missed her.

  Jim re-read Anna’s latest letter for the hundredth time, in between changing the barrels in the pub’s cellar. Something about it just didn’t seem quite right. It didn’t have her usual jaunty, mischievous tone. Only someone who knew her every facet would spot it, but it was almost despondent - for her. It worried him a lot.

  Anna was what you could call pathologically perky, but this letter was flat. She talked about what she was doing, but there was no detail, no emotions - and she always wrote about everything with such passion, just the way she lived everything. You could feel yourself with her, at her side - her letters were usually so vivid. It bothered him more than he could ever explain.

  Jim had the strangest sensation that she needed him, but didn’t know how to ask for help. He knew what he wanted to do, but with Dad passing away last year he was now the landlord of the Queen’s Head. He couldn’t just up and leave, just to go and play at being a knight in shining armour – even if it was for Anna. He didn’t know if she really was in trouble for a start, and even if she was, would she want him to be the one to barge in and rescue her?

  ‘Jim love, are you alright? You’ve been down there for ages,’ his mum called from the bar upstairs.

  ‘Sure Mum, I’m fine,’ Jim replied, as he took the stairs two at a time. Margaret stood in the hallway between the cellar door and the entrance to the bar. She grinned at him.

  ‘Is Anna having a lovely time? Australia now, I saw from the envelope, eh? How exciting!’

  ‘You know what, Mum, I’m just not sure she is. Her letter’s not quite right. She’s not at all lively in it. It’s a bit nothing-y - considering it’s from her,’ he admitted.

  His mum knew how he felt. They’d always been close, but the bond was even stronger since his dad had passed away from cancer last year. It had been a shock. Dad hadn’t been right for ages, but had refused to see the doctor, claiming the pressure of running the pub was getting to him. Jim had come back from Leicester, where he had been managing a comedy club, to help his parents out. But it had been too late. By the time Dad had finally admitted he really was unwell, the cancer had already won. He had passed within two weeks of his diagnosis.

  ‘Maybe she’s just busy love,’ his mum said consolingly.

  ‘Maybe,’ he admitted. ‘I just get this feeling there’s something up. I wish the
girls were still here so I could ask them. Carrie or Martha’d know if there’s something up.’

  ‘What about Charlie and Lydia, they’d have had a letter too – why not pop and see them?’

  ‘That’s not a bad idea, Mum. Surely she’d tell her mum and dad if summat was up? I’ll nip over now if you’re okay in the bar?’

  ‘I’m fine, love. Young Dean’s in the kitchen, and though he’s more useless than a wet tea-towel behind the bar, I can always send him out to collect glasses and stuff if it gets busy, but it’s Tuesday lunchtime, love, it should be pretty quiet,’ Margaret said, with a twinkle in her eye, always amused by how protective her great bear of a son was.

  Jim hurried out of the pub and crossed the village green to the Craven’s house. It was a timber-beamed cottage, but fashion-conscious owners at some point in the distant past, had erected a Georgian façade, so it appeared to be an elegant town-house. It wasn’t until you got inside that you realised the ruse. He’d barely raised his hand to the brass knocker when the door opened.

  ‘I saw your beautiful sandy head loping over – thought I’d save the door from your exuberant knocking,’ Lydia Craven said with a warm smile.

  ‘I’ve had a letter from Anna. She doesn’t sound right, and I’m really worried,’ he blurted.

  ‘You know, I’ve thought that about her last few letters, but you know Anna, she can be so stubborn - and so independent sometimes.’

  ‘I do. The last few letters did you say? I wonder if mine were, and I just didn’t notice it?’ he pondered. ‘But, even if she isn’t okay, what on earth can we do?’ he asked frantically, his Suffolk drawl highly pronounced in his agitation.

  ‘I don’t know Jim, we barely even know where she is, just somewhere in Australia, and she isn’t ever likely to admit to us that she needs help – even if she’s desperate. She is that stubborn, and is determined to prove she can manage. And even if we could find her, it takes time to make travel arrangements, and neither Charlie nor I even have passports any more. We’ve not been abroad in years.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Jim said spontaneously. ‘I’ll find her. If she’s okay I‘ll leave her to it, if not, I’ll drag her kicking and screaming back home if necessary,’ he joked grimly. ‘I’ll keep you posted Lydia, promise.’

  ********

  Jim sat peacefully on the bench that he and his mum had paid to have installed under the oak tree on the village green in his father’s memory. His rucksack sat between his feet, as he waited for his cab to the airport. This small patch of grass had been the scene of all the most amazing moments in his life, all his major milestones - even his first kiss. He was a man who knew his place in the world, knew who and what he was – and he always had done.

  He contemplated the family picnics he had enjoyed as a boy - his mum’s old picnic set with its wicker basket and plain white china plates and curiously light, stainless steel cutlery. It had even had glass salt and pepper pots, and two thermos flasks that matched the blue and white plaid rug that cushioned everything inside when you carried it. He didn’t think his family’s enjoyment of these days out, spent no further than 25 yards from their front door, was odd. He remembered the games of cricket or tennis with his dad, while his mum laid out all the goodies she had prepared, and the people who had joined in with their games and their food.

  The ducks on the pond would get their treats, too, given the crusts from the marmite and cheese-spread sandwiches, maybe even a bit of Victoria Sponge cake. There wasn’t often much left, but it never went to waste and standing with his then tiny hands in those of his beloved parents as they watched the swans swimming, and dodging the geese’s beaks, were memories he wouldn’t swap for anything.

  He looked down at his, now very large, hands, and had the image of a smaller hand being encased in it. Jim wanted his own children to enjoy the same kind of childhood he himself had done. Castle Cluny wasn’t much of a place, just a small village in a sleepy county - but the village green, and the pond always made him feel he’d come home, even if he had only been away for a morning. He wondered how long he would be away from it now.

  But even as he sat there, Jim knew that a part of him was already missing. A gap that had to be filled, but could only be filled by her. Anna was part of all the memories of this place too, her golden curls bobbing as she ran, or threw a ball, or dropped down on the blanket to ravenously devour whatever was in sight. He knew he couldn’t live without her any longer, and he knew he had to convince her that he was enough. Jim was very aware that he wasn’t exciting, or adventurous. He knew he didn’t want to tether her to one place, one that she had left as soon as she possibly could, but he wanted her and if that meant he had to change, that he had to leave, then he would do it. He knew that leaving his mum, the pub, and Castle Cluny would be the hardest thing he had ever done, but he would do it. She was, and always had been, his everything. He would do anything to make her happy.

  ********

  The airport was filled with a mass of people, all hurrying in different directions and bumping into one another, without so much as an apology. Jim felt like a fish out of water, and more than a bit bewildered. He had managed to find his way to the check-in desk, but had become lost, somewhere between the security check and his gate. He had thought he was following the right signs, but this seemed so far away from where he had started.

  The signs were still telling him that he was headed in the right direction, but surely he had been walking for miles? Finally, he reached gate fifty-three, and was surprised to see that boarding was nearly over. He had set out with so much time, and here he was, one of the last to board. He handed his passport and boarding card to the stewardess, who smiled and then closed the gate behind him.

  ‘We’ve been waiting for you,” she said. ‘The Captain was about to give the order to close, and head out without you.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Jim said, feeling mortified to have caused any delay. ‘I just didn’t realise how far away the gate was, and I got lost. It’s my first time in an airport this size, I had no clue. I thought I’d set out with plenty of time.’

  ‘It is a bit of a maze. Now, we’ve got a spot in business class - do you fancy a free upgrade?’ she asked, obviously taken with the endearing bear of a man in front of her. Jim grinned boyishly at her, obviously excited, as she herded him onto the plane and into the front of the plane. He glimpsed behind him, saw the crush back in economy, and breathed a sigh of relief. His long legs would have been cramping within minutes in one of those seats.

  ‘This is amazing, thank you so much. I really, really appreciate it,’ he gushed. The stewardess grinned and sashayed off up the aisle, wiggling just a little more than was necessary, showing off her curves. Jim was oblivious, but every other man on the plane was silently thanking him for provoking the flirtier side of the beautiful, young stewardess. He settled into his seat, and was grateful to be able to stretch out his legs. He’d never seen much need to travel but, if it was always like this, he could get used to it.

  His new admirer reappeared with a glass of chilled champagne. ‘You know what?’ he said with a wink, ‘I’d much prefer a beer.’

  ‘No problem sir, it’s not strictly boarding policy, but I’ll see what I can do,’ she said, leaning over him provocatively. Jim chuckled as she headed off - he’d finally got the all too clear message, but thought it funny considering the reason he was flying at all. Still, she was very pretty, and he was on the trip alone. At least he’d have a bit of company on the long flight.

  Chapter Three

  Tom lounged comfortably on the beach, water dripping down his muscular torso from the bottle of water he had poured over his head to cool himself off. He was unable to go and swim with the others because of the cast on his leg, and Anna wasn’t embarrassed to sneak the odd peek at the body lying next to her. He really was most girls’ idea of absolute male perfection. Sculpted, bronzed - and with his tousled, slightly damp hair falling over his half-closed eyes he had a drowsy look whic
h was pretty sexy. And yet, he did nothing for her.

  No, that wasn’t entirely true.

  Anna found him very unsettling, physically at least. She could see the envious glances of some of the local girls, as he devoted his attention to her and her alone. She wanted to take them aside, to let them know it wasn’t wanted - that she’d rather he paid them the compliments. Anna knew he was only interested in her because she was a novelty, and because she was resisting his overtures. Unwittingly, she had become a challenge he simply couldn’t back down from.

  Anna couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was definitely something about Tom that left her on edge. She could sense an undercurrent of danger there, but she couldn’t work out why. She felt nervous whenever he was near – as if she not only didn’t trust him, but didn’t trust herself either. Being in close proximity to him had her feeling like a teenager all over again, but this time the super-hot local guy was lavishing attention on her - not treating her like a little sister.

  Every time he touched her, be it an unintentional brush or a purposeful arm around her shoulders as they walked along, would have her traitorous body responding with shivers of excitement. She hoped she was disguising it from him – he certainly didn’t need any encouragement.

  Anna had no intention of being another notch on his bedpost, but she knew that was definitely his plan. She had to keep this job; she had to get home again, and she couldn’t afford to have to leave because Tom might make things difficult if she wouldn’t sleep with him. Unfortunately, Anna was sure that he probably would if he didn’t get his own way. She also wasn’t entirely sure that if he really pushed her, she wouldn’t give in. The sensations that she felt whenever he was around would be so easy to give in to.

  Tom made her feel that she was the only person in the world for him, that only she could possibly be so interesting and beautiful. She knew it was a skill he had honed – there was nothing genuine about it, as far as she could tell. He would make an incredible salesman if he ever chose to leave his little pond to compete in the larger world. She doubted he would though, as he liked his top dog status and wouldn’t want the competition. But she had to keep control of the situation, and get her own body back under control too.