by Helen Lowrie
Wendy laughed. ‘Ah, speaking of time, you’ve missed last orders I’m afraid. I was just about to close up.’
‘That’s OK; I’ve actually come to see a friend who’s staying here. Kat: tall, slim, long brown hair –’
Wendy was nodding. ‘I know who you mean. If I’d known she was a friend of yours I mighta given her a discount. She expecting you?’
‘Yeah, I’m just running late that’s all.’
Wendy tipped her chin in the direction of the stairs. ‘You’d better go on up.’
‘Thanks. Hey,’ I said, turning back to her, ‘which room was it again?’
Wendy narrowed her eyes at me while she debated whether I was likely to be trouble and I held my breath; I’d certainly caused her plenty of bother in the past. ‘Four,’ she said at last with a clear warning tone in her voice.
‘Great, thanks Wendy.’ Quickly I ducked through the door and up the stairs before she could change her mind.
Chapter Forty-seven
A soft knock at the door made me jump.
‘Kat? It’s me.’
Despite being muffled, his low soothing voice rumbled right through me. Frozen in indecision I stared at the narrow strip of light beneath the door where it was interrupted by Jamie’s shadow.
He’d found me. I wasn’t sure if he would or if I’d wanted him to. When I’d left I’d been absolutely set on never seeing him again. It felt good at first – running away – as if I was taking control, leaving my rising sense of panic behind and moving on, just like when I was a kid. But I wasn’t a kid any more and I hadn’t got very far. I should have spent the day on the move, taken a train or a coach, clocked up the miles between us – but running away from Jamie was so much harder than I’d expected. It hurt so much that the pain was physical, debilitating, unbearable.
‘Kat? Please, I just want to talk.’
Shifting my gaze back out of the window I tried to refocus on Wildham town square, now devoid of people and lit by tangerine street lamps, competing with the moonlight. From my place on the bed I’d been quietly observing the outside world – idly watching people go about their lives while I failed to decide what to do with mine.
I had finally told Jamie everything – confessed my ugly past: secrets, scars, the lot – and he hadn’t kicked me out in disgust; on the contrary he had made sweet love to me. But it was overwhelming, too much. I was in too deep, too vulnerable – in love with a man I could never have. My feelings for Jamie scared me more than Vic ever had.
So I had run.
But I was starting to understand that I didn’t want to be anywhere that Jamie wasn’t. Even if he was never truly mine, he was the only home I’d ever known.
He knocked again. ‘Please, Kat, I’m not leaving. I’ll just stay here all night if I have to.’
Uncurling I stretched out my stiff limbs, my skin sore from lying rigidly still, in all my clothes, for too long. Barefoot I stepped through the shadows to the door. But when I got there, I paused, one hand on the latch, trembling with anticipation.
‘Please,’ he uttered once more, his voice barely more than a whisper, and I opened the door.
Just the sight of him almost knocked me over; I had missed him so much. Clenching my fists to stop myself from touching him, I turned on my heel and went straight back to sit in the patch of light on the bed. After a few seconds’ hesitation he followed me inside and closed the door. I kept my eyes trained on the view out of the window but even in my peripheral vision his large body, his raw physical presence, filled the room and made my blood sing. He took a step closer towards me.
‘Don’t. Don’t touch me, please.’
‘OK, I won’t.’
Holding his hands up he stopped. He had a plastic carrier bag dangling from one wrist and I wondered what it might contain. Had he brought the rest of my things? Was he here to say goodbye?
He glanced around the small room and then down at the floor. ‘I’ll just sit here,’ he said, leaning back against the fitted wardrobe and sliding down until he was seated on the carpet, his legs bent in front of him, his feet just touching the base of the bed. With a sigh he rested his arms on his knees, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. I registered that he was effectively blocking my route to the door but I realised I didn’t mind. I wasn’t going to run again. I had no idea what I was going to do but it wasn’t that.
‘I can’t do this. Us,’ I said, looking down at my hands in my lap. ‘I don’t know how; it’s not me; it’s too much, I can’t –’ I was choking on my words and gasping for air.
‘Just breathe, Kat,’ Jamie said gently. ‘Just take some deep, slow breaths.’ I nodded and concentrated on my breathing and the panic slowly subsided again.
‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered, finally meeting his naked gaze.
‘Don’t be.’
‘I thought it was time I moved on. That’s what I do when things get difficult – I move on.’ His deep, warm eyes steadily held mine but I could see pain there.
‘And yet you stayed with Vic,’ he said evenly. ‘Vic – of all people. You stayed with him but you can’t stay with me?’
‘It was easier to stay with Vic than to live on the street but I never cared about Vic, not the way I care about you. Being with you is too much, Jamie; it’s all too much.’
‘In what way? Tell me and we can –’
‘No! Why? I mean, I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me – you’ve no idea how much – but maybe you should just focus on someone else now.’
He frowned, looked away and then down at his hands, apparently deep in thought. I hated seeing Jamie look so unhappy, hated that I was hurting him, but I had to try to put some distance between us for the sake of my own sanity – for both our sakes. For several minutes Jamie stayed quiet, as if considering what I’d said, and I started to worry that he might just agree with me. As the silence and the sound of my fear became unbearable, he started to talk.
‘When we first met all those years ago, I was completely alone. I was small and weak; I was too afraid to speak half the time – I would never have survived foster care if it wasn’t for you.’ He returned his gaze to mine. ‘You were there for me when I needed you and I want to be there for you in return. I don’t want to focus on anyone else. Stay and let me look after you, please.’
‘But that was years ago – you were just a kid and I was happy to look out for you. Really, you don’t owe me anything.’
‘No, I know that – but it’s not just that.’ Scowling, he rubbed his face with his hands. ‘Shit, how can I expect you to understand when I’m so crap at explaining? I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to just say what I mean.’ Jamie’s eyes darkened. ‘Last night, last night was so – it’s like right now, Kat; don’t you feel this thing between us? I’m sitting here just inches away from you and it’s like some kind of agony not being able to reach out and touch you.’ His words resonated with my feelings, making my chest tighten painfully and he held out his right hand, palm up towards me. ‘Tell me you don’t feel it, Kat?’
Closing my eyes against the naked hunger in his expression I silently fought the urge to seize his hand and press it to every part of my body. ‘I do feel it, of course I do, but that’s just –’ The very tip of Jamie’s finger touched mine making me gasp but I kept my eyes tight shut and tried to concentrate on what I was saying. ‘I can’t keep sleeping with you, Jamie. I’m sorry, I –’ Jamie slowly shifted closer in the semi-darkness, his large warm hand lightly caressing mine and circling my bare wrist. ‘It’s not as if I can be your girlfriend or anything.’ His hand inched slowly up my bare forearm, his thumb skating softly back and forth across my skin and making my insides melt with longing. ‘I mean, I’m still married and I know it’s just sex, but –’ His hand reached my elbow and edged on upwards, ‘It confuses things; it confuses me and – when this doesn’t work out – when it all ends’ His grip tightened around my upper arm, ‘I don’t want to destroy our friendship.’ Breathing h
ard, I opened my eyes.
Jamie was on his knees beside me; his head level with mine; one side of his face bathed in light from the window. ‘You’re far more important to me than any girlfriend, Kat.’ I thought he might be about to kiss me and I desperately wanted him to. He leaned in, his breath smelled of peppermint and I closed my eyes, my heart racing, and my lips parting… But then the back of my neck prickled as Jamie put his mouth to my ear and, for the first time in twenty-three years, whispered in my ear. ‘I love you, Kitkat.’
Goosebumps spread out across my skin and my breath caught in my throat at the sense of déjà vu and the sheer weight of his confession. Pulling back, he looked at me, his eyes burning with sincerity.
‘It’s hard to say it out loud, because it scares the hell out of me, but it’s the truth and I need you to know.’
Struggling to believe him I stared at Jamie and swallowed hard. ‘No – why?’
‘You’re everything to me, why wouldn’t I?’ he said, throwing my own words back at me.
‘Well, for so many reasons; what about –’
‘Will you just believe me, Kat?’ he cut me off, exasperated. ‘Please, I mean it and I need you to believe me.’
‘I love you too,’ I said.
He blinked. ‘You don’t have to say that. I’m not asking for –’
‘But I do,’ I interrupted. ‘So much.’
‘Really?’ he murmured doubtfully.
I nodded, shaking all over and rendered speechless by the huge knot of emotion in my throat. Taking my face in his hands he kissed me at last – his lips warm, soft and steady against mine and I sobbed against his mouth, overwhelmed.
Releasing me, Jamie sat down on the bed beside me and took my hand in his. ‘Listen, I don’t want you to worry, Kat – nothing has to change between us. There’s no pressure. This relationship is just between you and me – it can be anything we want it to be. If you need more time, more space, just say so. We can go back to how we were before if you want, take it slowly, one day at a time.’
Could he really love me the way I loved him? Could this beautiful man really be mine? The notion seemed too far-fetched to be true. He was waiting for me to speak. ‘OK,’ I said, staring into his eyes, afraid to blink in case I was dreaming.
Lifting my hand to his lips he kissed it, his stubble tickling my skin. ‘Good. Now, have you eaten?’ The question was unexpected but I was grateful for the subject change.
‘No.’
‘Are you hungry?’ he asked with a tentative smile.
‘I don’t know. I suppose I must be.’
Bending down he scooped up the bag he’d brought with him. ‘We stopped at the petrol station on the way here and I picked up a few things, just in case you needed feeding.’
‘We?’
‘Liam gave me a lift. It was him who tracked you down, actually.’
I cringed. ‘He must think I’m such high maintenance.’
Jamie smiled and shook his head. ‘Not at all – he made me realise I’d be mad not to come after you.’
‘Oh god, his ex ran away and left him didn’t she? I hope he doesn’t think all women are this flaky and undependable.’
Jamie laughed. ‘You are neither of those things, Kat, but, anyway, Liam’s more of an optimist than a cynic.’
‘Did he ever find out what happened to her?’
‘It’s still a bit of a mystery. We know she’s living somewhere in London; she called him about a month ago to say she was OK, but other than that – I think Liam’s moved on. He’s landed a great job restoring the grounds of a grand old country estate.’
‘Oh yes, he told me – it sounds intriguing.’
Jamie nodded, tipping the contents of the bag onto the bed cover between us.
Somehow, in his own easy-going way, Jamie had successfully managed to lighten the atmosphere between us. I couldn’t help smiling as he showed me the random and unhealthy assortment of goodies he’d bought: cheese pasties, various packets of crisps, two cans of coke, a box of jam doughnuts, a bag of chocolate-covered raisins, a KitKat and a pack of mint-flavoured gum. ‘Sorry it’s a bit of an odd selection. I was in a hurry but there’s enough for a bedroom picnic.’
I raised my eyebrows at him.
‘What? Don’t tell me you’ve never had a bedroom picnic before?’
‘I don’t think so,’ I said, bemused.
‘Midnight feast?’
‘Once, when you were little, you ate Hula Hoops in my bed; you threaded them all on to your fingers and then crunched them one by one – got salt and crumbs everywhere. Does that count?’ Jamie gazed at me his eyes bright with emotion and nodded slowly.
He loves me! The astonishing concept leapt into my mind with fresh intensity making me bite my lip. Could it really be true? Could we really make this work between us? Jamie picked up the KitKat from the bed and held it out to me. He watched as I eased the paper wrapper off sideways, set the foil-covered biscuit aside, took his hand and slid the band of paper over his fingers.
‘My hand’s too big now,’ he murmured, his voice low.
‘It doesn’t matter – you’re still mine.’ The words were out of my mouth before I realised what I was saying.
Jamie’s head snapped up, his eyes glowing and his Adam’s apple rising and falling as he swallowed. ‘Yes, I’m yours,’ he said gruffly.
Stretching up I pressed my lips to his and he closed his eyes and sighed into my mouth. I could taste his simmering desire as tangibly as my own but again he held it in check, curtailing our kiss before I could deepen it. I sensed he was trying to keep things casual, put my mind at ease and I loved him all the more for it. ‘Let’s eat.’
Kicking off his shoes, Jamie picked up the remote and switched on the TV while I peeled back the covers. We climbed into the bed fully clothed to eat our picnic feast. Jamie ate one handed, with one arm wrapped protectively around my shoulders and I snuggled into his side as we watched an old Western in weary, but comfortable, silence. Gradually my eyelids grew heavier, lulled into closing by the steady rhythm of Jamie’s breathing, his reassuring scent, and his strong fingers as they gently combed my hair. Every now and then he paused to plant a tender kiss on my head and, as I began to drift away, an incredulous voice in my head repeated over and over: ‘Jamie loves me?’
Chapter Forty-eight
Waking to find Kat in my arms I felt the greatest rush of relief I’d ever experienced. She’d said she loved me and I desperately wanted to believe her but I’d still half-expected her to vanish in the night. Pins and needles tingled in one arm and I felt hot and stuffy from spending a night in my clothes pressed up against Kat’s body, my nose buried in her hair, but it was all worth it. I’d never been in love before, the thought alone was utterly terrifying, but now that I’d told her, now that she’d said she felt the same, I was determined to make it work. I would do anything. Anything.
‘I love you, Kat,’ I whispered in her ear.
She stirred, making a soft sighing noise as she stretched out her limbs, her denim-clad bottom pushing up against my trapped morning wood. Shifting away I suppressed a groan of desire. I wanted nothing more than to be buried deep inside her but I had to be sure everything was OK first – make sure she hadn’t changed her mind about us. I couldn’t risk scaring her away.
Turning her head she smiled at me shyly, her cheeks flushed pink with uncertainty, completely un-Kat-like. ‘What time is it?’
Raising my arm I glanced at my watch. ‘8 a.m.’
‘Wow, really? We never lie in that late.’
I shrugged, brushing a strand of hair back from her face and hooking it behind her ear. ‘It’s Sunday and Frank will open up if we’re not back in time.’
She was watching my face intently and then a wide smile forced its way out across her lips, lighting her eyes, and she turned away hiding her face in her pillow.
‘What?’ She shook her head. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking,’ I pressed, encouraged by the fleeting look of joy
I’d witnessed. Still shaking her head, she laughed and it was such a young, happy sound. ‘I love you, Kat,’ I repeated in her ear, the words becoming easier to say with each confession.
‘I love you too,’ she admitted without turning. Her muffled voice was music to my ears.
‘Is everything OK?’
‘Yep.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yep.’
‘OK, good. Shall I leave you to get washed and dressed?’
At last she turned to face me, pinning me with her soft grey-green gaze. ‘Actually,’ she said hesitantly, ‘I was going to take a shower and I, I wondered if you would join me?’
Her simple invitation made me happy out of all proportion. ‘It would be my pleasure, Kat.’
We undressed in the modest en-suite bathroom before stepping into the shower cubicle together, a strange, shy sort of tension between us. I offered to wash Kat’s hair for her and she stood with her back to me, her arms self-consciously wrapped around her own waist, but as I stood behind her lathering shampoo into her glorious long hair she relaxed against me with a sigh, her warm slippery body igniting my blood. I murmured an apology for my blatant arousal – it was impossible to hide in the confined space – but she didn’t seem to mind. Once I’d rinsed the suds away I began massaging conditioner into her scalp and she moaned, making my balls ache.
‘That good huh?’ I said.
‘You have no idea.’
‘Up to salon standard?’
‘I’ve never been to a salon.’
I faltered at this new nugget of information, so minor but so deeply affecting, before continuing my ministrations. I wanted Kat to feel cherished.
She shrugged. ‘I just trim the ends of my hair myself when it gets too long. You remember how Mrs Plumley would make us take turns sitting on a chair in the middle of the kitchen while she went at us with the scissors?’
‘No?’
‘Yeah, she literally put a mixing bowl over your head once and cut round it! I was terrified she would slip and take your ear off.’
