He leaned in for a kiss, but it was much more gentle and slow than the one they had shared in the kitchen.
“So how was the trip?” he asked, smiling as they separated.
“They showed us some cave paintings,” Rose said. “They coloured their hands and pressed them to the rocks and you can still see them.”
“Oh,” he said, remembering, as she’d intended for him to, the pair of hand prints in her bedroom above. “Where did you go?” he asked, his voice thick. He sipped his wine.
“The Rub’al Khali.” She could tell him now. Officially, the trip had been done on behalf of Vitex, and there was no reason to keep it a secret now that it was over. To her amazement, Dave’s face lit up as she told him where she’d been. It definitely was an expression of recognition.
“You did? How did you like it?”
“I loved it,” Rose said. “It’s such a beautiful place. So vast. I wish I had taken a better camera but I only had my mobile to take them with. I was thinking about how much you would love the light and the colours. But you’ve been there, haven’t you?”
“Aye, but it’s been a long time. It was... magnificent. Would you show me your pictures?”
Rose coloured. “They aren’t any good, just some touristy snapshots. I wouldn’t want to—”
“Please. I’d like to see it through your eyes.”
Nodding slowly, Rose stood to fetch her mobile. His interest was genuine; he really wanted to get to know her, and his last request was one she couldn’t deny, no matter how self-conscious she was. When she returned, Dave was eating the dessert, a look of true delight on his face, and Rose fell in love with him a little bit more.
“This is delicious,” he said, putting down the glass and spoon.
Rose smiled and handed him her mobile with the folder of photos already open. She picked up her own glass of strawberries and mascarpone and busied herself eating it as he went through her photos.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, gazing at a photo Dominic had taken of her. He had taken it the day after the sandstorm. The early evening sunlight had been gorgeous and the Sheik had taken them to the cave paintings. Rose hadn’t felt particularly beautiful; she was hot and sweaty, hadn’t changed her clothes or taken a shower since the morning before. The veil was playing about her face in the soft breeze, and if one looked closely it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. She coloured. Dominic had taken her photo in an unguarded moment.
She made an embarrassed little sound and concentrated on her food.
“You are,” Dave insisted.
“I’m not. This was the night after we’d gotten trapped in a massive sandstorm.”
His eyes went wide. “You were?”
“The sand was everywhere. It feels like it’s still there, in my hair.”
“That must have been terrifying,” he said softly, dropping his hands to his thighs as he looked at her.
“It was. I’ve never heard such a... Howling before, it almost sounded like an angry animal.”
“Were you safe?”
“We were in a tent. It’s amazing how sturdy they are. I have no idea how the Bedouin do it, but we were safe,” Rose said. “Then again, they’ve done this for millennia, so they’d know."
“Luckily, there wasn’t one when I went out there,” Dave said. “Hearing you talk about it makes me realise that it’s definitely something I can do without.”
“I’d love to see your pictures.”
He nodded absently, returning his attention to her photos. “That’s Mickey, yeah?” he asked, holding her phone up for her.
“And that’s Dominic.” Rose stopped herself. Dominic had been great about her turning him down. He had withdrawn a bit, but he’d still been the same kind man. She felt bad for what happened, but her heart belonged to Dave.
“And those two?”
“Vitex clients,” Rose said as he showed her the photo of Aquiouk and Semimnan. The two had gone through hell during the night, terrified of both the storm and that their shimmers wouldn’t hold out. Mickey had told her that reassuring them hadn’t been easy although they’d returned to their natural forms for the duration of the storm. They had been crushed to find that once the storm let up it was too late to travel back to the city and they’d have to spend another night in the Empty Quarter. The trip to the painted caves had made up for it, though, for all of them. The batteries on the Sheeryan shimmers went flat just after they’d reached the safety of their hotel.
“You took them to the desert?” Dave asked.
“We had business to do with the Sheik. Vitex arranged for the meeting and I had to be there and be decorative.”
“That you certainly were,” Dave said, switching off the mobile and leaning in for another kiss.
“Dave,” Rose said, pleasantly dazed from his kisses and the wine.
“Aye, Rose?” he asked, kissing her again. He drew her towards him, sliding his hand along her still sore back. Rose hated herself for hissing in pain at his touch, and Dave snatched his hand away as if he’d burnt it.
“What... ?”
“I... I’m a bit sore. The sand was everywhere and it chafed my back.”
“Oh, oh. I’m sorry, Rose. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She cupped his cheek with her palm again. She loved the feel of his freckled skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll live.”
“Is that... That’s where you were burnt. The night I found you.”
Rose nodded.
“And you’ve got scars now,” he pointed out.
Rose nodded. “They usually don’t hurt, but the sand rubbed the skin nearly raw. But as I said, I’ll be all right.”
“You’re an amazing, mysterious woman, Rose Tyler,” he said.
Rose felt her jaw go slack. Her name out of his mouth sounded a lot like the Doctor had said it, and still it was completely different. Pleasant shivers ran down her spine. “Kiss me, please?”
He kissed her, wrapping his other arm around her good side and bringing up his hand up to cradle her jaw. They were still getting to know each other, but they still managed to get lost in the kiss. Her mind went wonderfully blank and all she could think of was kissing this man that she’d fallen in love with. How much she loved the way he tasted and how she wanted to take his sadness away. Once, she tried to put all her desperation for him into the kiss but he slowed her down, moaning something softly. For a moment she was tempted to open up completely to him but she remembered how scared he had been the first time she had done it and she stopped herself.
“Rose,” he said, gasping for breath. “I... l—”
She covered his lips with her fingers. “We’ve never really talked about the Emptiness Folder,” she said, trying to steer them towards safer ground. He seemed to remember that they had agreed not to rush things. What he’d been about to say was far more than she was ready to hear, although she knew, in her heart of hearts, that she felt the same.
“No,” he said, confused.
“I’d like to do it... the shoot as soon as possible, before it’s too late. Before the feeling’s gone, yeah?”
Dave looked at her for a while, clearly searching for the right words. “I’m not sure that feeling will ever leave me. It’s not just about loss... it’s about the fear of losing my loved ones.”
“How many children do you have, Dave?”
“Five, including Lucy.”
Rose picked up her half-finished strawberries and crème and began to eat absentmindedly. It would have been silly of her to assume that Dave was only a father to Lucy. That left four children he had to care for, and it explained a lot of things about him. It certainly explained his fear of losing them as well. And the au pair. “How’s it going with the au pair?”
“They’ve been getting on quite well. This is the first night I’ve left them by themselves.”
“Are you nervous?”
He gave her a gorgeous little smile. “Like hell. For different reasons, but so far, everything seems to have
gone well.”
“What reasons are they?” Rose asked, licking her spoon clean and putting the empty tumbler down on the table.
“Well, there’s the kissing thing.”
“I loved the kissing thing,” Rose said, taking his empty wine glass from him. She shifted on the sofa so she was kneeling next to him. He looked up at her, his gaze darkening and his bottom lip sticking out. “No need to be nervous about that.” She cradled his head in her hands and slowly bent to kiss him, nibbling at his bottom lip before dipping her tongue into his mouth. The flavour of the wine on his tongue mixed perfectly with the strawberries and cheese crème on her own.
“The Emptiness Folder,” he gasped afterwards, reaching for his own dessert.
“Is that a reminder, or a reason to be nervous?” she asked, tucking her tongue into the corner of her mouth. She was rewarded with Dave’s touched smile; she’d do anything to see him smile like this.
“Both,” he chuckled.
“No need to be nervous about that.” She kissed him again, gently, lingeringly.
“About hurting you.”
Rose’s heart clenched. “No need to be nervous about that either.” Again, she kissed him.
“About you changing your mind about me.”
“Never. Don’t you ever be nervous about that. Yeah?” She cradled his face again and just brushed her lips over his. The words hung between them, reflecting in each other’s eyes.
Chapter 18
Raindrops glittered on the dark taxi when Dave stepped onto the pavement. The air smelled of damp soil and wet tarmac, and when he held his breath and listened carefully he could hear the soft patter of the rain on the foliage. Opening the car door he turned back to the house where Rose stood silhouetted against the brightly lit hall inside the storm door. She had wrapped her arms around herself, unmoving. It seemed wrong that he should have to leave her after the kisses they had shared. He wanted nothing more than to curl up on the sofa with her in his arms, or, better even, in her bed. But they had both agreed that it would be better if he went home. Waving at her, he slid into the taxi. Rose was still there, in the kaleidoscope of the rain-sprinkled window. The cabbie pulled away from the kerb, and then she was gone.
He could still feel the press of Rose’s lips against his as he stared, without seeing, at the cityscape flitting past in the nearly empty streets. There were two worlds outside the window, the real one and the one reflected in the puddles and on the glistening pavements. Two worlds met each other, and for a while Dave couldn’t shake the thought that this was very much like what he and Rose had. They were literally from different worlds. They led lives that were distinct and only touched in small places. They had things they couldn’t — yet — tell the other.
Like he was a father of five – he had told her, but it hadn’t been easy.
That he was a failure, divorcing his first wife and consequently losing his first child for a while. Failing to marry his great love and consequently losing his ‘second’ child.
He hadn’t had it in him to tell her that he was a grandfather.
Whatever Rose’s secrets, he couldn’t imagine how she could be any more broken than he. She was clever and warm, and she had already entrusted him with a secret so big that everything else paled in comparison. Only, it wasn’t about being a failure at being human, but a triumph. She had travelled with an alien, had saved his life and gotten gifts in return that were more a curse than a blessing. How did you live with the ability to not only understand all kinds of languages but to feel people’s feelings?
And still, Rose had fallen for him.
Of that he was certain now. The thought filled him with with giddiness and confusion. He wondered what she saw in him — obviously someone who was worthy of all the promises she had made, each insured with a kiss. The sentiment had hung in the air between them, far more powerful in its implication than any words could ever be.
Whatever her secret, he would have to accept it gracefully. She had chosen him. Rose Tyler, who certainly had more suitors than she could count, had chosen him. He was sure that there was something she hadn’t told him yet, he had sensed it when they’d talked about her trip to the Rub’al Khali. Why would a Vitex business meeting warrant that kind of secrecy? At first she’d told him, on the phone, that she couldn’t disclose her location, but now that she was back, she’d even shown him pictures of the trip.
She’d looked so beautiful, even — or particularly — in the simple snapshot Mickey had taken. He couldn’t wait until the weekend, when they’d planned the photo shoot for the Emptiness Folder. Once again, Rose had assured him, without even knowing about what he planned, that she would be game with anything.
“Here we are, son,” the cabbie said, interrupting his thoughts.
Dave jumped a little. How long had they been standing at the kerb outside his house? He paid the fare and as he got out of the taxi the cold night air hit him like a brick wall. He’d had a fair amount of wine — he had become a lightweight in his years with Rita. When you were with a woman like her you didn’t need alcohol to... Wait. Did that mean that he felt like he did when he was in a relationship — preposterous thought, too early! — with Rose?
“Y’all right, son?” the cabbie asked.
Dave turned around. “Aye. Thanks.”
The cabbie grunted and ducked back into the car but he didn’t leave. Dave dug in the pocket of his jeans for his keys and held them up for the cabbie to see. It was touching, really, how concerned the older man was for his safety. Dave inhaled the crisp night air and walked down the gravel drive to the front door. The light in the lounge was still on. He unlocked the storm door and waved at the cabbie. The taxi pulled away and he stepped into the warmth of the hall.
“Lottie?” he asked, shedding his leather jacket.
“Hi, Dave,” she said, joining him in the hall. She was clad in baggy trousers and a long t-shirt. She quickly removed the pair of geek-chic glasses perched on her nose.
“I’m sorry I’m so late.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not really tired.”
He was about to ask her how she did it, looking after the three bairns and having the energy to stay up and read that late into the night when he answered the question himself. She was only a year older than Tanya — and both girls practically burst with energy. “I completely lost track of time. I hope the kids weren’t too much of a bother?” he asked.
“Evie was a bit put out that you weren’t there to read her a bedtime story,” Lottie said, “but other than that, they were really good.”
Dave ducked his head. Evie and he did have a firmly established bedtime ritual that had only been interrupted once — the night Rita had died. He had totally forgotten about the story while he’d been at Rose’s. “Oh dear. Was it bad?”
“Well, I tried to convince her that I could read the story as well as you.”
“Oh.”
“No, I couldn’t. But she was sweet enough not to complain too much,” Lottie said. She gave him a long look. “You’ve had a good night.”
It was a statement rather than a question.
“Aye, I did.”
“I’m glad.”
“Let me just get a glass of water and then I’ll join you in the lounge.”
Lottie nodded and returned to her book. When he joined her, after having downed one glass and filled it up again, she’d nearly finished the thin paperback she was reading. When he peered at the title, she held the book up so he could see it was a drama based on Mary Shelley’s novelFrankenstein. Dave quirked an eyebrow at her choice of reading.
Lottie blushed. “It’s on in London at the moment.”
“Is it any good?”
“It’s brilliant!” Lottie enthused. “My favourite actor’s in it. Sean McDonald.”
Dave nodded. He’d read the reviews; it was supposed to be very good, but it was down in London and it was sold out.
“There’s a screening of it at the Kelvingrove Cinema. I was hopi
ng I could go,” Lottie said, her voice rising in question at the end of the sentence.
“Sure.” He had planned to go as well; he had written a longish paper on the novel as part of his A-levels and he was curious what the playwright had done with it. Maybe he could get Anna to babysit.
“Dad?”
Ewan’s sleepy voice made him turn around before he could ask Lottie another question about the play. “Eh, what are you doing up so late?” he said gently, putting the water glass down. Ewan joined him on the sofa and curled up close to him.
Bigger on the inside: Space, Time Travel, Alien Criminals (A Space Time Travel Mystery Book 1) Page 19
