She looks at me, her blue eyes narrowing only slightly, and she leaves a small pause before she responds to my comment. Have I overstepped the mark again? I’m beginning to worry that I have. That I might have done.
“I guess I just wasn’t the type to climb that ladder. I was happy doing what I was doing, I never felt like I needed anything else. Besides, David was doing such a great job as Deputy Head, he was going nowhere. And I didn’t want to leave Millers Bridge, but that doesn’t mean to say I’m not ambitious. I am.”
“So, why now?”
“You offered me the job.”
She leaves no beat before answering, her eyes boring into mine. There’s also a slight edge to her tone, a hint of irritation. And then it’s as if a switch has been flicked; she realises it herself, that her tone has an edge, and her expression becomes almost apologetic.
“Connor, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’ve just…”
She trails off, turns her head away from me to stare out of the window.
“I did just kind of throw it straight at you, Joss. You had no real warning.”
She turns back to face me, smiling slightly. “It’s not that. It’s just…” She trails off again, sitting back in her chair. She feels like she can’t talk to me, and that’s understandable. We don’t know each other that well, we’ve only been work colleagues for a matter of months. But I want her, to talk to me. It’s okay, if she needs to say something. If she wants to get something off her chest. It’s fine. It might be nice, to be friends as well as colleagues. I’ve never really felt that need before, to have my work colleagues as friends, it was never something I wanted. But I want it now. I’d like it, now. I’m tired of being lonely.
“If there’s something you want to talk about, Joss, I’m a good listener.” I refill her glass, and she watches me pour the wine before she raises her gaze.
“It’s nothing. Really, Connor, it’s nothing.” She leans forward, rests her elbows on the table, cupping her chin in her hand as she picks up her glass and takes another sip. “Let’s talk business.”
I’m not sure I want to anymore. In reality, there’s nothing to talk about. The position is hers. It’s been agreed by all parties, we’re just waiting for the paperwork. So, if that’s the case, why did we need this meeting? Why did we need to come here, and talk about something that doesn’t need to be talked about?
“Are you sure? That you want to take the position on?”
I’m just trying to find an excuse now, a reason why I made her come here tonight.
“Are you?”
“I’m more than sure.”
“But you barely know me. Barely know my work, what I’m capable of. So, how can you be sure?”
“I’m sure, Joss. Besides, you come highly recommended. It’s your time. You deserve this.”
A few loaded beats go by before she speaks again. “Okay. You’re sure. Everybody’s sure. So am I. There’s nothing more to be said then, really. Is there?”
She fixes me with a look, and she knows, too, that this meeting tonight was unnecessary. So, why did she come? Why didn’t she point that out to me, when I asked her to meet me tonight? Why didn’t she say anything?
“You’ve got something on your mind. I can tell.”
I may be prying again, but if we’re not going to talk shop then I want to use this opportunity to get to know my new Deputy Head.
She takes another sip of wine, her eyes remaining fixed on mine. And then she drops her gaze, her fingers playing with the stem of her glass again, spinning it round on the spot, the wine swirling around inside.
“When you asked me how long I’d worked at Millers Bridge…” She slowly raises her gaze, sits back in her seat, and she turns her head away from me. Glances outside into the car park. “It’s all I’ve ever known, that school. I trained there, I work there, it’s where I met my husband. My best friend’s also a teacher there. My Goddaughter and nephew are students. My entire life is intertwined with that school.”
I watch her as she speaks, the way her eyes remain fixed on one spot outside. The magnolia tree on a patch of grass to the side of the car park.
“Is that a bad thing?”
She turns to face me, a slight smile on her face. She’s extremely pretty, Joss Coburn. With her white-blonde asymmetrically cut hair, she has an edgy look that’s both strong yet sexy. I’ve just described one of my staff members – one of my married staff members – as sexy. Is that wrong?
She looks at me with those cornflower-blue eyes, the smile on her face growing just a little wider, her pale lips only slightly parted. “It’s not a bad thing, no. It just made me wonder, for a second – it made me wonder, if I missed out on something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I’m still trying to work that out.”
Those blue eyes blink a few times, and then she drops her gaze again. I think she might have felt as though she’s said too much; opened up just a little too much, to someone she probably still considers to be a stranger.
“Anyway. What about you?”
She looks back up at me. And I feel my stomach pull itself into a knot, I don’t want to talk about me. There’s nothing anybody needs to know, apart from the fact I’m damn good at what I do.
“What brings you to Millers Bridge, Connor Sloane?”
12
Joss
The second I ask that question I see his expression change. He doesn’t want to talk about himself, which only reinforces my theory that he’s a closed book. A private man. Maybe he’s married to his work, I can’t see any sign of a wedding ring, but then, not all men wear them, do they? Sam does. Sam wears a wedding ring. Alex doesn’t, not anymore. He took his off the second Kelli walked out on him and Danny.
Connor drops his gaze, focuses on his hands clasped together on the table in front of him, and I feel slightly guilty about asking him that question now. But under normal circumstances it’s a perfectly ordinary, acceptable question to ask someone. And aren’t these normal circumstances? I’m not so sure anymore.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything, I just…”
“I needed a change.” He looks up and shrugs, throwing me a half-smile. “Simple as that. I’d done all I’d needed to do – all I could do in my old school.”
“Time for a new challenge, huh?”
“Millers Bridge isn’t a challenge, Joss.”
“So, why come, then? I know you’re an extremely talented teacher, and I know how you managed to turn your old school around so, why come here? To a school that, as far as I’m aware, is doing okay?”
“Like I said, I needed a change.”
“An easy ride for a little while?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He holds my gaze, and I decide to end this conversation now, he quite obviously isn’t going to tell me anything. I’m fine with that. I’m not in the habit of making people feel uncomfortable.
“Okay…”
“Joss, I – I just don’t do personal very well, that’s all. I’ve always kept myself to myself, it’s the way I am. The way I’ve always been. I live for my work.”
“You’re a long way from home, though. Aren’t you?”
I didn’t mean to start prying again, that question just slipped out. But, is it so wrong to want to know just a little bit more about a man I’m going to be working very closely with from now on? I don’t think it is.
“The UK is my home now.”
“There’s nothing back in the States for you? No family?”
He shakes his head, both of us turning our attention to the waiter as he stops by our table and places our food down in front of us.
“I don’t have any real family, Joss. Not anymore.”
The way he says that, almost like a throwaway remark, it’s a little odd. What does he mean, not anymore? I want to ask him more questions, but I don’t. Instead we eat our food and start talking about work, the upcoming exams, David’s leaving party. Anything
but ourselves.
“Dessert?” he asks me as I push my almost empty plate away.
“No, thank you. I couldn’t eat another thing.”
“Nightcap, then. A brandy, maybe?”
I nod. “That sounds lovely. Thank you.” I look at my watch, and when I glance back up he’s frowning.
“Do you need to be getting back?”
I smile, sitting back in my seat. “Well, it is a school night.”
He laughs. He’s very much at ease when we aren’t talking about him. He’s in love with his work, adores what he does, he’s a man who’s truly given himself to teaching. But he’s a man who’s also a long way from home, no matter what he says about the UK being his home now. It is, I suppose, but it isn’t where his life started. But none of that is my business.
“I’ve had a really good time, Joss. It’s been nice, just sitting here sharing a meal, and talking.”
“As long as it’s not about you, huh?”
His smile wanes slightly, and I regret saying that now. It wasn’t fair. He has every right to be a private man. I have no right to pry.
“I’ll go get those brandies.”
I watch him walk to the bar, not missing the way more than a few female heads turn to look at him as he passes their tables. He’s an incredibly handsome man, there’s no denying that. Tall, with dirty-blond hair and a killer smile; blue-grey eyes that are hiding so much.
I look out of the window. It’s dark now. The car park’s lit up by lots of solar lighting and a few lampposts that shine out a brighter, less ambient light. I should be getting home, it is quite late. Just forty-five minutes until last orders, and I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.
I hear him sit back down opposite me and I turn to face him, smiling as he hands me a brandy. I take it from him, my fingers brushing his, just for a second, before I pull them away. Sip the brandy. Its instant heat warms my throat as it slides down slowly, settling in my stomach. It’s a calming sensation. I like it.
“Why don’t we share a cab home?”
I look at him. He has no idea where I live, it could be miles out of his way. “Which way are you going?” If he’s asking me to share a cab he can’t mind me knowing where he lives. Especially if he’s first drop-off.
“I live over in Bowden Bank. The new estate there.”
I raise an eyebrow. They’re pretty decent houses up that way. I’m guessing he lives in one of the smaller ones, though. Or I’m assuming, anyway, seeing as there’s only him. And I’m assuming that, too.
“What about you?”
“Ellis Lane.”
“Not too far from me, then?”
“No. Not too far.”
Around the corner, to be exact. I could walk from his to mine in less than ten minutes.
“So, shall we share a cab?”
I shrug. “It makes sense.”
He downs his brandy and pulls out his phone, and I watch as he orders us a taxi. I finish my own drink, pull out my phone. I should text Sam, let him know I’m on my way home. But I don’t. I put my phone back in my bag and zip it up. There’s no need to text him. I’ll be home in a little while, he doesn’t need to know my every move. Besides, he seems to have found something to occupy his time tonight. I haven’t had one message from him all evening.
“The cab’ll be here in ten minutes.”
I look at Connor, and I smile. I’ve had a good time tonight too.
A really good time…
13
Summer
I watch as he runs his fingers through his hair, makes his way into the bathroom. I listen as he switches on the shower, he’s washing me away. Washing us away. Off his skin. But he can’t wash away the guilt. Guilt I know he feels, so why doesn’t he stop this? Why don’t I stop this? Because I’m weak, that’s why. So is he. We’re both weak. We’re both liars. We’re both weak, cheating liars.
The shower shuts off and he steps back into the bedroom, naked and damp. I want him all over again, but I can’t have him. He needs to go back, to her. To his wife. My best friend. He needs to go back to Joss.
I watch as he drags on his jeans, pulls his T-shirt on over his head, once more running his fingers through his hair. I watch him slowly push me away. He’s taken what he needs, and I’ve given it to him willingly. But now I have to hand him back, I understand that. This was never for keeps. It was never supposed to be forever. It was never supposed to happen at all.
He picks his phone up from the dressing-table and slides it into his pocket, but not before he’s checked it. Made sure Joss hasn’t tried to get hold of him.
“I’d better go,” he says, with barely a glance in my direction. That’s how much the guilt affects him. But I really can’t be the one to stop this, that’s something he has to do himself. Because I need him, for as long as I can have him, I need him. And I hate myself for feeling this way, but I do, need him.
I want him.
My best friend’s husband.
14
Sam
Pulling into the driveway I notice the lights aren’t on. Our house is still in darkness, as it was when I left it a little over an hour and a half ago. I’m relieved, I wanted to get back before Joss got home. I’d like her to think I’ve just spent the night watching TV, catching up on some marking, I didn’t want to give her any reason to question my whereabouts. But now I find myself questioning hers.
I check my watch. It’s almost eleven 0’clock. A school night. We’re usually thinking about heading to bed soon, which is why I was panicking slightly, as I left Summer’s. I’d been careless; we’d both been careless, lost track of time. Savvi was at a friend’s house working on a project, but she was due home at eleven. And I just assumed Joss would be home around then, too. That’s what she told me. So, where is she?
I realise how hypocritical I sound as I slide my key into the lock, nudging the front door open with my shoulder. I’m sleeping with my wife’s friend. I’m lying to Joss. Beautiful, sexy-as-hell Joss. The woman I’m in love with, so why the hell am I sleeping with Summer? I ask myself that question, every day, and every day I can’t answer it. There’s just something about Summer Sanderson that makes my cock react, makes my heart race, I need her. I don’t love her. So why the hell am I risking everything, my entire life with Joss, it’s all on the line because – what? Because I get off on sordid, secret sex with one of her closest friends?
The guilt washes over me again, and I head into the kitchen, find the bottle of whisky we keep on the counter, and I pour myself a large measure. But even the instant alcohol hit can’t wash away that guilt.
I resist another drink. I’ve got Year Eleven football training tomorrow morning and I need a clear head.
Glancing up at the clock I frown, it’s getting late. Where the hell is Joss?
Pulling my phone from my back pocket I look at the screen. No messages. No missed calls. Not one fucking text. Connor Sloane must be really great company.
I fire off a quick text, ask her if she’s on her way home, I don’t even know if she’s okay. Of course she’s okay. I’m just paranoid and guilt-ridden, as I always am after fucking Summer.
I throw my phone down on the countertop and head upstairs. I’m tired. I fucked two women tonight, and deceit, Christ, it’s exhausting. But I can’t walk away from her, from Summer, not yet. I can’t. And that’s me, being weak, I know it is. It’s me, thinking with my cock, and I have no fucking idea why, it’s not like Joss and me have got problems as far as sex is concerned. We don’t. My wife, she’s beautiful, she’s the love of my fucking life, I adore the ground she walks on. But I can’t walk away from Summer. I can’t. One day I will, it’s a promise I make myself constantly. I’ll end it. One day, just, not yet…
15
Joss
I had every intention of refusing his invitation to come inside for a coffee. I had every intention of remaining in the taxi, of going home. But there was a part of me that didn’t want the night to end just yet, and besides, I can wa
lk home from here. It’s only around the corner.
“You’ve got a good eye for décor,” I say, taking the mug Connor holds out to me as I look around his small but beautifully decorated living room.
“For a man, huh?”
I turn to look at him, smiling at his raised eyebrow. “I didn’t mean it like that. But, you know, if you want to go there then, yes. This place doesn’t exactly scream that a man lives here alone.”
“I guess I’ve just got great taste then.” He smiles, and I return it.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
His smile widens, his eyes remaining locked on mine as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Sit down, come on… unless you need to get back to Sam?”
“Sam’s a big boy, I think he’ll be fine on his own for a few more minutes.”
I sit down on a comfortable looking chair by the fireplace, placing my mug on the table beside me.
“So, have you always lived around here?” he asks, and then he scrunches up his nose, shakes his head. “Sorry, Joss, I’m getting personal again. Which isn’t fair, considering I’ve been less than willing to reveal anything personal about myself.”
“You’ve allowed me into your home. I’d say that was pretty personal.”
He smiles again, and again I can’t help but smile back. I’ve smiled a lot tonight. Connor Sloane makes me want to smile. It’s a nice feeling. Why am I so unfamiliar with it?
“I suppose it is.”
“And no, I haven’t always lived around here. Sam and I moved here just after we were married. We lived in Gateshead before that.”
“You weren’t born here, though. Were you? I mean, your accent…”
“I was born in Sweden. Lived there until I was eighteen. I came over here to study, and I never left.”
He frowns. “Isn’t Alex Olsson Swedish, too?”
“Alex is my best friend, Connor. We grew up together in a little village just outside of Gothenburg. Our parents were – are – the best of friends. We were born just months apart, we’ve known each other forever. We came over to the UK together, to study. We went through university together, started working at Millers Bridge within weeks of each other, just months after graduating. There hasn’t been a time when he wasn’t in my life.”
Tainted Love Page 3
