Seeing her reaction, her rescuer’s face softened and he smiled, showing white, even teeth. It lit his face up, and Tamsin felt a flutter of something stir in her. He really was extraordinarily good looking. ‘Look, I know it’s not ideal, but there’s stuff to read, I’ve even got my Kindle, there’s the laptop, and the island’s pretty nice when the weather isn’t doing what it’s doing now. You really don’t have a choice, anyway, you’ll have to sit tight till the beginning of May when they next fly in. So… I suppose we ought to introduce ourselves. I’m Jed Baker. I’m here studying the local seabird population.’
Tamsin blinked. ‘You mean you’re a naturalist?’
‘Yep. I’m doing a summer stint on the island for the organization that owns it, logging which seabirds are here and whether the populations are declining. And who are you…?’
‘Tamsin Smith. And I’m really sorry to land on you.’ Her voice was groggy and slow now as a tidal wave of weakness overtook her again. ‘I’ll do my best to keep out of your way.’
He smiled again, a slow, easy grin that kicked a little tremor of response from her overstretched emotions. But the weakness washed over her once more and the tremor died. The pain in her head, which had receded while they were talking, had come back, causing her to put a hand up to her forehead.
‘Right, you need to rest. Do you need the loo first?’
But Tamsin was lying back, eyes already closing, engulfed by a deep, dark tunnel of sleep.
Chapter 3
This time, when she woke up, she felt much more normal, though her previous waking and her conversation with Jed seemed unreal and dreamlike. A thick blind was pulled over the window and there was a light on above the desk, so she guessed it must be dark outside. There was a sense of stillness too, except for the crackling of the fire. Certainly the wind had died down, though she could now hear the distant wash and recede of waves and, above and beyond that, a strange noise - like a querulous chatter and the occasional shriek, though faint and far away - that at first she was unable to identify, till she realized it was the sound of what must be a pretty large colony of gulls.
There was no sign of Jed, but the fire was piled with fresh logs that were blazing merrily away, so he couldn’t have gone far. Tentatively, she eased herself up, then swung her legs to the floor. The headache was gone, thank God, though she still felt wobbly. So far so good. She stood up, expecting faintness, but there was just a residual weakness and that persistent sense of unreality. She was also bursting for a wee, so, needs must, she had to find a loo, (did this place have a loo?), or a bush, or something. Hopefully not a bush, since she was still dressed in nothing but her underwear and a thin, sleeveless pastel-striped cotton top, now the worst for its soaking in sea water and barely covering her bum.
Successfully making it across the floor, with every step restoring a sense of strength and focus, Tamsin opened the door leading from the room and stepped through. She’d expected it to open to the outside, but she was in a vestibule with another door ahead of her and one to her right, and a small galley kitchen to her left. The entryway itself was lined with pegs, hung with bits and pieces of outdoor wear, and there were several pairs of walking boots on the floor, all in different sizes. There was a faint but perceptible draught coming under the door ahead of her, so it had to lead to outside. She knocked on the other door, received no response and turned the handle. A light came on automatically, startling her but illuminating, to her relief, a tiny bathroom with loo, sink and a shower cubicle.
The loo even flushed, as she found out a minute or so later, and there was running water to the sink, though she saw it was supplied from a large plastic container above the taps and dispensed via a thin tube, the water itself tepid and coming out a pale peaty colour. And, miracle of miracles, there was a mirrored cabinet, though she almost wished she hadn’t looked in it when she saw her pale, strained reflection. That was definitely blood matted into her hair above her ear; and her eyes, (that were muddy brownish green instead of their usual dark emerald), were hollowed above stark cheekbones; there was a bruise on her jaw as well. Ugh! A moment swilling her hair under the tap got rid of the worst of the blood, and a splash of water over her face cleared her head and made her feel properly awake, but there was nothing she could do about her pallid skin and the bruises.
‘You’ve looked better,’ she muttered to herself, drying her face and hands on a rather grubby towel, wincing as she discovered a tender spot on her cheek.
Then she jumped a second time as the door was rapped smartly and Jed called out: ‘Are you ok in there?’
She opened the door to him a bit sheepishly, keeping her lower half behind it so he wouldn’t see her undressed state. ‘Sorry, I should have looked around for you and let you know where I was.’
He smiled. ‘Ah, you’re properly awake. I just went out to get some more logs then saw you weren’t in the living room. This batch should do us; it’s warming up, the worst of the bad weather’s gone. It should be pretty hot tomorrow. Oh, and you might need these.’ He handed her jeans to her, now dry and clean, though with a tear in one knee, and gave her a cheeky grin. ‘I have to tell you how weird it is having a strange woman washing up on the island. Not that I’m complaining,’ he added, raising his hands, ‘though it’s going to be tough on you till we can get the helicopter to take you back to Cornwall. Now, I’ll leave you to get into your jeans while I knock some food up.’
She passed him in the galley kitchen a moment or so later. He had his back to her, but she could hear the sputter of something frying. She paused for a moment to take in his broad shoulders and what was actually a very nice bum showing trim and muscular under his jeans. Tamsin shook herself mentally. She already had enough complications in her love life without having stray lustful thoughts about men she barely knew.
As though he’d sensed her scrutiny, he turned his head to grin at her - that grin seemed habitual and was very infectious. ‘Won’t be a minute. Go and sit by the fire and I’ll bring it in.’ She started to offer her help but he waived it away: ‘It’s room service for now. You need to rest and take it easy.’
Muttering her thanks, Tamsin backed away and went into the main room, finding a padded bench to one side of the fire, seating herself and holding her hands to the blaze.
Moments later, Jed was shouldering his way into the room, forks in one hand and plates in the other, the top one piled with a huge, fluffy omelet. Tamsin’s eyes widened. ‘Eggs? Here?’
He plonked the plates on the desk, divided the omelet in two between them, then handed one half to her. ‘Yes. We’re set up for survival here. Fi, one of the others in the team, introduced chickens. There aren’t any foxes on the island, so they’re safe to roam around and don’t take a lot of upkeep. We’ve got wind power, solar panels and an emergency generator too, just in case you’re wondering where the power for the lights comes from. And the fishing in the cove, off the rocks, is pretty good.’
Tamsin began on the omelet and discovered she was almost wild with hunger. ‘This is pretty good,’ she said, between mouthfuls, forking it down furiously, wiping her mouth unceremoniously with the back of her hand.
‘Thanks. There’s tinned peaches and evapourated milk for pudding. I’m afraid we don’t run to fresh fruit, except for a week or so after the helicopter’s been, though we do grow vegetables and salad stuff.’
‘You keep saying we,’ she said, spearing the last chunk of omelet and putting her plate on the end of the bench.
He nodded. ‘We is the team. Sometimes all six of us are here, especially when we’re tagging birds. We work in pairs sometimes. I’m here on my own at the moment, but someone will come over in June and we’ll have a two week overlap before I go back to the mainland. When there’s more than one of us, we use field tents, but there’s nowhere to store them in between, so this is the accommodation when it’s just a single person. I’d like to be a gentleman and let you have the bed to yourself, but this is the only place to sleep, at leas
t till it gets warmer at night, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to double up while you’re here.’
He must have seen the startled look she gave, because he smiled and said, ‘Don’t worry, there’s plenty of room, we can have a blanket each, and I promise not to snore or get too familiar in the night. Now, if you’re not too tired, I’ll put the kettle on and get the pudding, then you can tell me what you were doing adrift on the stormiest night this year.’
So Tamsin found herself, mug of hot tea in hand, telling Jed a little about her mad dash to Cornwall to escape Damien and that he’d faced her with an unexpected and urgent decision.
‘But won’t people wonder where you are? Your aunt must have told someone when you didn’t come back last night.’ Jed asked.
Tamsin shrugged, pushing a stray tendril of hair from her face. She was aware of him following the movement closely, his eyes suddenly intent, and she felt self-conscious and a little excited: his focus seemed to have shifted, so that she was made very aware of her body and of the fact she was alone with him, and of how attractive he was. Stop it, she chided herself. For all you know, he might take total advantage of you: after all, you’re completely at his mercy. A frisson of excitement sent a shiver up her spine and she tried to steer her thoughts back to more sensible things. But a part of her somehow knew she could trust him, though she wasn’t sure why. She swallowed.
‘Nobody knows I went down there. The cottage is a bit isolated, away from the rest of the village on a creek. My aunt doesn’t live there, it’s just her holiday place, and we all have a key in case we want to get away; we don’t need to ask.’
Jed nodded. ‘And the boyfriend? You haven’t said much, but it must have been something pretty drastic to make you run like that.’
Tamsin shrugged. ‘I’m not sure if I want to be as serious as he seems to want.’
Jed’s mouth tightened and a look of deep sadness shadowed his eyes briefly. ‘I know what that’s like, I mean someone not being sure if they want to commit to you all the way.’
Tamsin would have questioned him, but he changed the subject, asking her how she was feeling now, gently drawing her hair away from the lump on her head, probing with careful fingers and then pronouncing that she didn’t need stitches as the cut was quite small. Then he leapt to his feet, picking up their mugs and leaving the room. She would have to start pitching in and helping tomorrow, but right now she could feel exhaustion and reaction overtaking her again. By the time Jed came back in, she was fast asleep, curled up on the bed against the wall, a blanket pulled over her, her back to the room.
Chapter 4
It was light, the sort of light you get very early in the morning, warm, luminous and the colour of runny caramel. The fire had gone out, but dapples of sun and shadow spattered the walls high up, moving across the wooden ceiling like the reflection of water. Tamsin yawned, rubbed her eyes and stretched luxuriously, flinging the blanket off and crossing the floor to look out of the window, her feet sinking into a brightly patterned woollen rug then traversing floorboards. She felt alert and alive this morning, though there was still that faint sense of shock and unreality. She had no idea if Jed had stuck to his intention to share the bed with her: she had slept so deeply and totally that she had no impressions of the previous night, not even the shred of a fading dream.
A huge walnut tree framed the window, a faint breeze stirring its leaves and making the shadows shift and weave. Beyond that stretched a mass of daffodils, their radiant yellow dancing in the sunlight all the way down to the distant shoreline, beyond which the sea was a silver strip, polished to blinding brilliance and calm as a pond. To her right, the beach flowed away to distant hills beyond the cove; to the left a wall of black towering rock climbed till it merged with green cliffs that sloped down to meet it. The cliffs themselves were dotted with grey, moving specks that she realised must be the nesting sea birds: the tops of the rocks and the face of the cliffs were streaked white by their droppings. Opposite, woods nestled in a cleft in the rising ground, their trees small and twisty, leaves the fresh green of springtime under a cerulean sky. The whole scene was tranquil, beautiful and totally unspoiled.
She saw movement halfway to the shore, and realised it was Jed, camera in hand, coming towards her. He walked with an economical grace, limbs loose and supple, back straight and hair lifting a little in the breeze. She was struck again by how gorgeous he was, and she watched him as he came closer, unable to take her eyes off him, till she was able to see the sheen of sunlight on his curls - a jet black that was almost blue, she saw today - and the flush of ruddy, wind tanned brown across his high cheekbones.
As he came nearer, Tamsin moved away from the window so that he wouldn’t know she’d been watching him, and a few moments later she heard the outer door open and close and then the sound of footwear being removed and unceremoniously chucked down. Then he was bounding eagerly into the room, face full of sunshine and enthusiasm.
‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Let me start downloading these pics onto the laptop, then I’ll find you something to wear. I thought you might like to look around, if you’re feeling up to it. It’s still a bit nippy out there, though it’s going to be hot later on.’
‘Ok, thanks. I’ll make some tea while you’re doing that. Or do you have coffee?’
‘In the cupboard over the sink,’ he replied absent-mindedly. ‘There’s cereal in there too, plus powdered cows milk, or fresh goat’s milk in the fridge if you prefer.’
‘You have goats?’
‘Yep.’ He glanced over his shoulder with that engaging grin. ‘Fi’s idea. She makes cheese when she’s here, though we’ve run out now. I find goats milk a bit strong myself, but it’s good for cooking.’
Tamsin padded out to the kitchen, bare feet warm on its cork tiled floor, located a huge jar of instant coffee, found the stove, matches and a hob kettle and put the latter on to boil while she made herself a concoction of muesli and reconstituted powdered milk. The water from the tap in here seemed clearer than the bathroom supply, so she assumed it was either bottled or filtered. The whole place seemed to be run efficiently, although on primitive lines.
When she carried the mugs of coffee in, Jed took his, then handed her a bundle of clothes: socks, a thick woollen Guernsey sweater in navy blue wool, cord trousers, that were a bit on the big side but would be fine with the proffered belt. ‘People leave stuff here. We just help ourselves when we need something. Fi is about your size, so I think her boots should fit you.’
Tamsin took the pile from him. ‘Thanks,’ she said, blushing as his hand brushed hers. What was wrong with her? He might be good looking but he was just another bloke, nothing to get stirred up about, especially as she knew perfectly well she was still in love with Damien.
She covered up her embarrassment by asking if she could have a shower.
‘You can,’ Jed replied, ‘but the water is a bit chilly this early in the morning; we have no way of heating it. It’s really just for when the weather is foul enough to keep us indoors. I’ll grab you a towel and then show you the usual bathing facilities. You can clean your teeth in there though; there should be a spare toothbrush in the cabinet.’
Five minutes later, warmly clothed in boots, sweater and jeans, Tamsin followed him outside, gazing around in delight. It really was beautiful here. The little stone dwelling - she didn’t know whether to call it a hut or a cottage, it was a bit of both - looked really old with its deep-set window and sturdy wooden door, though she saw solar panels gleaming on the pitched roof and the blades of a windmill jutting from behind. It was surrounded by trees, mostly oak and ash, and the ground rose beyond it, rocky and rough as it swelled towards the distant hills. The goats, two miniature brown and white females, were penned behind it, though with plenty of space to wander around, and chickens pecked and foraged through the coarse grass. And the air, still brisk and chilled, was bracingly clean and fresh.
Jed led the way a short distance up the slope of the land towards an ou
tcrop of taller rocks, their sides glistening greyish-gold in the early light. Tamsin watched his broad back and muscular thighs and felt a tightening in the pit of her stomach. She had no idea why, but he seemed to be having an abnormally strong effect on her, judging by the lustful thoughts she was at pains to push away. Come on, she told herself, pull yourself together: for all you know, he might be gay. And, anyway, you’ve got enough man problems without adding to them with inappropriate thoughts about a stranger. None the less, she felt a flood of warmth that made her nipples tingle and her groin respond with a faint echo of pleasure - made worse when he turned and his eyes locked on hers for a few mesmerising seconds. They were intensely dark, almost black, she noted, but with a leap of gold glimmering in their depths. Bloody hell, she thought ruefully, he should have a health warning printed on his forehead.
Her indiscreet thoughts were forgotten a moment or two later, though, as they rounded the mass of rocks. ‘This is the bath,’ said Jed, pointing to a round pool, steam rising from it’s surface, waters green and mysterious, bubbles and ripples towards the centre showing where hotter currents must be emerging from some subterranean source. There was the faintest mineral smell, completely pleasant and a little bracing.
‘Wow!’ she gasped.
‘Pretty cool, huh? Or rather really warm. It’s not dangerous though; it isn’t volcanic. It happens because there’s a fault here, and rain water sinks deep into the ground, then gets pushed to the surface again, warmed by the layers deeper down in the earth. Have a good soak; take your time. There’s only me here, so you’re quite private. I’ll be back at the Hermitage when you’ve finished.’
‘The Hermitage?’
‘Yes, it used to be a retreat. Monks came here from mainland Cornwall at one time. It’s very old, probably twelfth century. Gullwatch, the organisation I work for, extended it. It was once a single room.
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