Cameron stood suddenly and peered into the lounge to check on Amy. He sat down again and looked at Julia.
‘The other day I went to see a solicitor to sort out the divorce. He was hopeful things might work out better for me than I had expected. He thinks I could get custody of Amy. I might even be able to keep my house too, although I expect I’ll have to pay Laura off somehow. I can’t count my chickens yet, but it did allow me to think the future could be bright. And then I hoped, one day when the time was right, you and I…’
Julia leaned back in her chair with her hands braced against the edge of the table as if she was about to get up.
‘But now you’ve changed your mind, because suddenly you’ve remembered Duncan was your best friend? That didn’t seem to be uppermost in your mind when we were in Sicily.’
Julia stood up suddenly and walked to the front door and opened it. She stood outside on the step, breathless. If Amy had not been in the house she felt sure she would have lost her temper with Cameron. She felt so foolish.
‘I’m sorry. I’m not explaining this very well am I?’
Julia turned to find Cameron standing behind her in the doorway. She pushed him away and hurried down the steps to the garden. She stopped in the middle of the lawn and stood still, staring into the distance, not knowing where to go or what to say.
She tried to put herself in Cameron’s shoes. She tried to understand what he meant by not wanting to be grateful Duncan had died, but she couldn’t.
She strode back to the house to find Cameron. He was sitting on the step outside the front door.
‘I will never be grateful that my husband died. Ever!’ Julia said, as Cameron stood up. ‘But does that mean I have to spend the rest of my life being miserable? On my own? Because, God forbid I should ever be happy again with anyone else. That is not what Duncan wanted for me, or for our sons, or for anyone else I imagine.’ Julia realised she was yelling loud enough for Amy to hear. She folded her arms and glared at Cameron, who looked at her in bewilderment.
They stared at each other without speaking for a few moments. The front door opened and Amy appeared, looking anxious.
‘There you are Daddy? I thought you’d gone home without me.’
‘Don’t be silly; why would I do that?’ Cameron replied, as Amy climbed onto his lap and grinned cheekily at Julia, oblivious to the unfolding drama.
‘Aren’t you going to eat your dinner now? It was yummy scrummy, in my tummy.’
‘I’m not really hungry at the moment. But I think we ought to go home and feed Jessie J; don’t you?’
Amy jumped off his lap and ran indoors to get her shoes and coat.
‘We should talk about this when Amy’s not around,’ Cameron said, as he stood up.
Julia didn’t reply. She followed him indoors, picked up a plastic hair slide that Amy had dropped and handed it to Cameron. He put it in his pocket, pulling out his car keys a second later.
As Julia watched them drive away, she felt like she had been flattened by a bus. She put the remains of the still-warm fish pie into the fridge then she went upstairs to her bedroom and lay down on her bed. It was still early and the sun was shining in through the window. Her resident blackbird was singing sweetly from the roof, but it was not enough to cheer her up. She shut her eyes and replayed the conversation with Cameron in her head.
A part of her had expected something like this to happen. It had all been too convenient. They hadn’t sought each other out. It had simply happened. She had never looked at Cameron in all the years she had known him with anything more than simple platonic affection. He was funny, charming, generous and cheerful. He had been Duncan’s closest friend for forty five years. He had supported Duncan when his brother Martin was killed, and a few years later when his father passed away. They had shared a flat together in Aberdeen when they went to university. They had liked the same books and the same films; they had shared a similar sense of humour. And yet in many ways they were quite different. Where Duncan had been steadfast and dependable, Cameron was known to be fickle. Duncan had been thoughtful and cautious while Cameron took risks.
Cameron had cried at Duncan’s funeral; one of the few men to openly do so. It had touched Julia then. She knew how much he felt the loss of his friend.
She thought about Marianne; trying to imagine how she would feel if her closest friend died. It would break her heart, and she most certainly couldn’t imagine starting a relationship with Brian, no matter how fond she was of him. It would feel like incest.
Julia sat up on the bed and reached for her phone and dialled Marianne’s number.
‘Hi, what’s up,’ Marianne said. Julia could hear the television on in the background.
‘Something strange just happened with Cameron. We’ve kind of fallen out.’
‘Oh?’
Julia heard Marianne walking into her kitchen where it was quieter.
‘I didn’t tell you this, but I invited him around for dinner tonight, and he came along with Amy. I guess it would have been our first “date” but he didn’t even stay long enough for dinner.’
‘Why not?’
Julia carried the phone over to the window and looked down at the beach where she had been sitting with Cameron earlier.
‘I’m not entirely sure what happened, but it seems as if Cameron got cold feet. He went on about how he would feel guilty if he was happy with me because then he would have to be grateful that Duncan died.’
‘Hmm, well I guess there is a curious kind of logic there. So what did you say?’
‘I shouted at him and got mad; so he went home.’
Marianne laughed, ‘Oh dear.’
‘So, now what do I do? I feel so stupid inviting him over. I spent all day in a panic wondering whether anything might happen tonight. And for what; just so he can say he’s changed his mind. If he felt so guilty, why didn’t he think of this before?’
‘To be fair, Julia, he has been in a bit of a state since Laura left. It’s been one mad thing after another with those two. Are you really sure you even want to be with him?’
Julia thought for moment.
‘I don’t know what I want, to be honest.’
‘Well then, until you do, you shouldn’t waste any more time worrying about what is going on in Cameron’s head.’
‘I guess not.’
Julia hung up and went downstairs to the kitchen. Marianne hadn’t been the comfort she needed. She took out the fish pie from the fridge and microwaved it. She stood in the kitchen as she ate, staring at the clock. It was nearly nine and the sun had set. She had imagined she would have been sat on the sofa sharing a bottle of wine with Cameron by now.
What would have happened? Would he have kissed her? Would she have kissed him first? That triggered a memory of Sicily. Julia felt her stomach churn with butterflies. She put down her plate; her dinner unfinished. She poured herself a glass of water and drank it, trying to force Cameron out of her mind. It was impossible.
She yearned to feel his arms around her. She wanted to reach up and stroke his face as he bent forward to kiss her. She wanted to wake up and find him next to her in her bed. She wanted to talk to him as they walked along the beach. She wanted to laugh with him in the company of their friends. She really did want him. He wasn’t just a poor substitute for Duncan. It was an entirely different feeling altogether. But it was still love.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’
She glanced at the clock and then hurried upstairs to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, combed her hair, spritzed on some more perfume and applied some lip-gloss. Then she ran downstairs and grabbed her coat and car keys.
She opened the front door and was stunned to see Cameron walking towards her. She looked over at his car expecting to see Amy in the back seat of the car, but she wasn’t there.
‘I dropped Amy off at my sister’s. She’s going to stay for a sleepover with her cousins,’ Cameron said, as he stopped before he reached the steps leading up to the h
ouse.
‘Oh, right!’
‘Were you just going out?’ Cameron said, as Julia fiddled with her car keys, and dropped her coat on the step.
‘Actually, I was just about to come and see you. I wanted to …’ Julia didn’t finish the sentence. She bent down to pick up her coat.
‘I wanted to apologise for earlier. I don’t think I explained myself very well. It was difficult with Amy around,’ Cameron said.
‘I think I understand how you feel; now I’ve had time to think about it.’
‘Do you? Because I don’t.’
‘Yes, but I think you’re mad. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Admittedly we wouldn’t be having this conversation if Duncan hadn’t died, but that doesn’t mean we should stop right now and never see each other again. Does it?’
Cameron stuffed his hands deep into his jacket pockets, his shoulders hunched against the evening chill.
Julia walked down the steps towards him and stood on the bottom step. She still had to look up at him, but his face was closer to hers. The light from the porch lit up his eyes. He didn’t smile, but his expression softened when she made eye contact.
‘Can’t we just start this evening over again?’ Julia said.
‘I would like that.’
‘Come inside then; it’s cold out here.’
Julia took his arm and led him indoors. She hung her coat up and put her keys back on the hook by the door. She had so many things she wanted to say, but now he was here she had lost her nerve.
‘Look Jules, I’m sorry I said all that stuff earlier. It’s just… well you know me; I have a tendency to screw things up, especially when it looks like it’s all going too well.’
‘Yes, I do know you.’
They stood in the vestibule as if they were both reluctant to enter the house. Cameron had not taken off his jacket, as if he hadn’t committed himself to staying.
‘Do you think it might be better if we try not to overthink this? Perhaps we shouldn’t even talk about it. Maybe we should just go and watch a film or something,’ Julia said.
Cameron grinned. He unzipped his jacket and hung it up and followed Julia followed into the kitchen.
On autopilot Julia walked over towards the kettle, then stopped and tilted her head to one side, silently questioning Cameron.
Cameron didn’t respond. He stared at Julia, a smile playing on his lips.
‘What did you mean by or something?’
‘Huh?’ Julia replied. She leaned against the kitchen unit and looked at Cameron who grinned cheekily at her.
‘You suggested watching a film, or something. I was hoping something might be a euphemism – as in something happened in Sicily.’
‘Something really did happen in Sicily. But that was a long time ago. Perhaps you could remind me.’
‘I’d be happy to. I think it all started when you launched yourself at me in the kitchen. It was quite a surprise, but I rather liked it.’
Julia looked around the room and smiled.
‘Well, we are in a kitchen. But there wouldn’t be any element of surprise now, would there?’
Cameron pulled Julia into his arms and kissed her. Julia flung her arms around his neck fusing all of her hopes and dreams into the kiss as she returned it.
‘I think you will always have the power to surprise me,’ Cameron said.
The End
****
My grateful thanks go to Becky Sherry who cracked the whip and encouraged me to finish this novel much faster than I would have done otherwise. Becky wanted something to read while she was having chemotherapy, and I was very happy to oblige. Even though I haven’t met Becky (yet) she has been a great inspiration to me so I could not resist including her in the novel. The real Becky Sherry does not work in the Cairngorms, although she would like to. I am happy to report the chemo worked and Becky is back out doing her long distance running, and still encouraging me (and other writers) to carry on. She is a super star!
My other thanks go to my writing buddy Melanie Hudson (author of The Wedding Cake Tree) who also read early versions of this novel and provided invaluable advice on all my writing. I would be lost without her. And to my sister Stephanie who I also consulted on plot points and characters.
I also owe thanks to an architect; but he shall remain nameless!
My other novels are: Dancing with the Ferryman & Chasing an Irish Dream.
I am currently writing another novel which will be called Dreaming in Norwegian – this will be published in 2014.
Thank you for reading this far!
Frankie x
www.frankie-valente.co.uk
Twitter - @frankievalente
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Acknowledgement
Learning to Dance Again Page 34
