Joey poured cream in her coffee and searched his expression for any sign of what he was feeling. She decided it might be better to talk first about work, and later about everything else.
“How’d it go with Massimo?”
“Good man. Knows what’s what.”
“Think you’re going to like working with him?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Were you able to get to everything?”
The toast popped up. Ian tossed it onto a plate and handed it to Joey. She was glad to have something to do, even if that only involved butter and marmalade. She found she was avoiding direct eye contact.
“We’ve got questions, but he seems to know lads who specialise in just about everything. He put in some calls, and they’re all going to be trooping through in the next week or ten days.”
“That’s good. Isn’t it?” Joey had a bite of her toast.
Ian nodded.
“So by the end of next week, it should be pretty clear what we’re up against.”
“I’d say so.” There was a pause. Ian looked down then met her gaze. “When are you leaving?”
She put her toast down and sighed. “I don’t know. Sometime in the next couple of weeks.”
Ian nodded. ‘So, then, it’s probably a – pretty bad idea.”
“What is?”
He pointed to Joey and then to himself.
“I like bad ideas,” she said wryly.
Ian cleared his throat and shook his head. “I’ve spent enough time pining to be with someone who’s not here.”
“But I am!”
“For the time being, sure. Besides, for all I know, you’ve got somebody back home.”
“I do not!”
“Ex?”
“Well, everybody has exes! Come on! There would really be something to worry about if someone my age –”
“And what age is that, Miss Rubin?”
“What do you think?” Joey smiled.
“Oh, no. Not a chance. I know better than to answer that question. Or to ask too many.”
“You can ask me anything you want! What do you want to know?”
“Oh, a few things.” He smiled.
It could have been the coffee, but Joey’s heart was now thumping rapidly.
“Well, ask me. Go on. Ask me a few things.”
“Five things?” A sly grin spread over Ian’s face. “I ask, you answer?”
“We both ask, we both answer,” Joey countered.
Ian sat back and appeared to be pondering his list of questions. Finally, he spoke.
“Do you live alone?”
“Yes. But that’s not fair, because I already know your answer to that!”
“All right, you can ask me something else.” Ian refilled his coffee cup and sipped it, black and strong.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“One. Sister. Lives in the Shetland Islands.”
“What does she do there?” Joey asked.
“Is that your second question?”
Joey shrugged.
“They raise sheep. And children. Six, at last count.”
“Wow! Okay, question number three: what’s your favourite – song?”
Ian smiled. “You won’t know it.”
“Try me.”
“It’s an old Scottish tune: ‘Kinrara’.” And then he went on to recite the first verse of lyrics:
Red gleams the sun on yon hill-tap,
The dew sits on the gowan;
Deep murmurs through her glens the Spey,
Around Kinrara rowan.
Where art thou, fairest, kindest lass?
Alas! wert thou but near me,
Thy gentle soul, thy melting eye,
Would ever, ever cheer me.
A melancholy look washed over his features, and Joey wondered whether the words of the song had brought Cait to mind.
“You’re not going to sing it for me?” Joey teased, hoping to jolly him out of impending gloom.
“I don’t sing.”
“Ever?”
“Ever. And if you heard me sing, you’d know why.”
“Okay, so you’re not big on – singing.”
“Only my own.”
Joey smiled and pressed on. “Then what’s your favourite – way to relax?”
Ian gave her a suggestive look.
“Besides, that!” she said.
“I like to ride, out in the woods. You?”
“Riding? No way.” Joey shook her head. “I’m a city girl.”
“Ever tried it?” Ian pressed.
“Once when I was at summer camp. The horse took off. With me on him.”
“You apparently survived.”
“Yeah, but I had nightmares about horses for years!”
“About time you got over that, don’t you think?”
“Is that an official question?
“I think it’s more of an answer.”
Joey would never have agreed to it if the weather hadn’t been so invitingly warm and sunny, or if anyone but Ian had been asking, but she found that she couldn’t say no. So a little while later, almost trembling with anxiety, Joey was in the backyard, placing her left foot into Ian’s clasped hands and throwing her right leg over the back of an enormous mare called Maggie.
“No! I’m not doing this. Let me down.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” he said calmly, the horse’s reins wrapped around his hand.
“There’s no point to this,” Joey argued, fighting the urge to jump off Maggie and back quietly away. “I live in a city. I’m never going to ride a horse again in my life.”
“All the more reason to do it now.”
“But I’m … too chicken.”
“She’s a nag, Joey. She’s twenty-two years old. She isn’t going anywhere fast.”
Joey took a deep breath. “Don’t let go! Hold onto the reins.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Joey’s stomach muscles tightened up as the horse began to move. “Oh, my God!”
“You’re doing fine.” Ian led Maggie out of the yard. “We’ll just walk down this road, okay?”
Joey didn’t answer. She was hanging on for dear life.
“Okay?” Ian asked. “Joey?”
Joey nodded, holding the pommel of the saddle tightly. She drew a deep breath, willing herself to unclench her muscles. If Sarah’s kids could do this, so could she.
“Good job,” Ian said. “You’re doing fine.”
After several moments, Joey was surprised to discover that she was – getting to be – a little more relaxed with this. Maggie was slow and sturdy beneath her, and as Joey swayed to the gentle movements of the animal’s walk, she found herself able to glance up at the trees and fields bordering the country road. Okay, she thought. I’m okay.
The next step was for Ian to mount his own horse. He tried to hand Joey Maggie’s reins.
“No! I’m too scared!”
“But I have to get Thunder.”
“Thunder? Okay, I think I’m done now. This was great, but –”
“He’s terrified of thunder. That’s how he got the name. Look, I’ll tie Maggie to the fence. She’s not going anywhere.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. She was always lazy and slow. She never moves more than she has to.”
Ian tied Maggie’s reins to a fence post then disappeared into the barn.
“Hi, Maggie,” Joey whispered. Maggie ignored her. “You’re a good girl. That’s a good girl.” Joey let go of the saddle, which she had been gripping fiercely, and laid her hand on Maggie’s neck. The animal’s warmth surprised her. She patted her gently, and Maggie turned her head in response. The sight of the horse’s eyelashes and her enormous, limpid eyes somehow slowed Joey’s racing thoughts. Maggie really was calm. She was gently submitting to carrying a complete stranger on her back, and Joey felt a rush of warmth and affection.
Ian came out of the barn on Thunder, a
large chestnut with a regal bearing, and rode over to the fence. He untied the reins.
“I can hold them,” Joey said tentatively. Inside, she was still nervous, but she was determined to be brave. She could see that Ian was pleased as he gave a surprised little nod and handed them to her. “Good lass,” he said. “There you go.”
They headed onto the road, past the churchyard with its ancient headstones covered in lichen, past the dense hedgerows, and the hills dotted with cottages built of the same yellow stone as Stanway House. Half a mile on, they turned off the main road and on to a gentle, winding path that headed through the fields and up to a clearing by the edge of the woods. Joey was riding more easily now, beginning to accept that Maggie had no intention of bolting for freedom.
The air was rich with earthy smells. Leaves blanketed the floor of the woods on either side of the road. For a time, so overcome with the sights, sounds and fragrances of the country in midwinter, Joey actually forgot that she was on the back of a horse. She now understood what Ian felt here, for she was feeling it herself. She would have said so, but their mutual silence felt so companionable that she didn’t want to speak.
At the top of the hill, they turned their horses and gazed down at the countryside laid out before them, quiet and still, as though in a painting.
“Good for you,” Ian finally said. “It was worth it, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Joey said softly.
The ride back to Stanway House was thrilling: part sheer terror, part joyous exhilaration. When they reached the bottom of the hill, Ian gave Joey a mischievous glance and kicked Thunder into a canter.
“Wait!” Joey called. “Ian!”
Maggie, perhaps sensing that Joey either didn’t know how to instruct her to follow suit or didn’t have a clue about what she wanted the horse to do, roused herself in pursuit. Stunned and terrified at first, Joey soon discovered that the cantering horse was not really all that difficult to ride. She gripped Maggie’s sides with her knees, holding onto the saddle at first and then gradually letting go, relaxing into the easy, rolling rhythms of the horse’s motion. This was much easier than when Maggie had briefly trotted, earlier, bumping Joey up and down so that she hit the saddle awkwardly and hard.
She caught up with Ian at the corner of the road.
But they were no sooner there than he steered Thunder into a field and began to canter away.
“No!” she called after him. “Ian! Enough!”
But he was off. She had two choices: stay here until he returned, or go with him. What she definitely couldn’t do was go back to the stables by herself. She didn’t know how to get down from a horse.
Joey gave Maggie a little kick, and Maggie seemed to understand what to do. The horse started off slowly then began to trot. Joey bumped uncomfortably in the saddle, gritting her teeth. She gave another little nudge with her heels. And, just when Maggie’s trotting had reached its most painful, she broke into a beautiful, flowing canter.
Joey’s nervous smile gave way to a broad grin as the wind met her cheeks and she and Maggie fairly flew across the field, to catch up with Ian and Thunder.
Chapter 18
“Ian McCormack?” Sarah said.
Joey was surprised by the tone of her friend’s voice on the phone. She was sitting in the empty kitchen of Stanway House, relishing the last warm rays of the afternoon sun pouring through the window.
“Yeah,” Joey said quietly.
“Wow,” Sarah replied.
Joey was taken aback and paused for a moment before responding. Sarah hadn’t said “Wow” as in, “Wow, that’s so fantastic!” She’d said “Wow!” the way one might pronounce the word while staring at an astronomically large credit card bill.
“You don’t sound overjoyed,” Joey said.
“I’m – surprised, that’s all.”
“Why? He’s gorgeous and nice. And available.”
“Is he?”
“He’s not seeing anyone, as far as I know.”
“But… is he ready to start dating?”
“I’m not sure I’d call it ‘dating’. We haven’t gone out anywhere.”
“What have you done?” Sarah asked sharply. Joey could just imagine her friend’s mouth, set in a prim, maternal pout of disapproval.
In response, Joey felt an impulse to be a little scandalous. That was what Sarah deserved for being such a prig.
“What haven’t we done is more like it,” Joey whispered.
“Joey!!”
“What? I thought you’d be happy for me. Why are you acting like this? Do you know something I don’t?”
‘It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” Joey’s mood was darkening. She had been so excited to share her news with Sarah. She thought Sarah would be thrilled for her. She certainly hadn’t expected this reaction.
“It’s a small town,” Sarah intoned.
“So?”
“Word gets around.”
“He’s not fifteen, Sarah. He’s a grown man. If he didn’t want to get involved with me, he wouldn’t have. You’d think people would be happy for him. He’s been alone for a while now.”
“And he’ll be alone again as soon as you leave!”
Joey sat back in her chair. She had moved past disappointment in Sarah’s reaction and was headed toward righteous indignation.
“You’re a New Yorker, Joey!” Sarah pressed on.
“So were you!”
“Yeah, but I was twenty-three years old. I hadn’t built a life and a career.”
“Right, I see, so it was easier to for you to mould yourself into whatever Henry wanted you to be. Easier to slip into Henry’s life that to create one of your own.”
“Is that what you think I did?” Sarah asked coldly.
Though Joey was now angry enough to want to fling the word “yes” at her, something made her pull back.
“No,” she said, summoning as much self-control as she could. “I think you fell in love with a wonderful man and decided that a life with him was worth some sacrifices.” There was a tense pause. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“I am,” Sarah insisted.
“Well you have a pretty funny way of showing it.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Sarah continued.
“No, you don’t want him to get hurt. That came through loud and clear.”
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Sarah insisted defensively.
“To be alive is to get hurt,” Joey replied. “There’s no getting around that.”
They were both silent for what felt like a long time. Joey, cupping her phone between ear and shoulder, stood and walked to the window; outside, the shadows were deepening and all was quiet.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah finally whispered.
“Me, too,” Joey added lamely, aware that she seemed to have spent most of her visit apologising to Sarah for things she had apparently done wrong, at least in Sarah’s opinion.
“It’s just that you’re always down on me for being such a cynic, for not sharing your romantic view of life, and here I am telling you I think I’m really falling for someone –”
“It just caught me by surprise.”
“Me, too!”
“And where can it possibly go, Joey? I mean, I can’t see you moving here. Can you?”
“I have no idea. I just met him two weeks ago.”
“And I can’t see him moving to New York. What would he do there?” “Search me.”
“And there’s Lily.”
“I love Lily. We get along great. I took her to London last week and we had a really fun time! I don’t actually think she’d mind too much if Ian and I got together.”
“You came to London? Why didn’t you call me?”
“I was in meetings all morning and it was supposed to be kind of an outing, for her.”
Sarah said nothing. Great, Joey thought. Now Sarah could add another item to her list of perceived slights.
“Look,
” Joey said. “We didn’t leave things on the happiest of notes. What was I supposed to do, drag Lily over to your house so you and I could spend the afternoon figuring out why we seem to be fighting all the time?”
“We’re not fighting,” Sarah insisted.
“We’re not? Then what are we doing?”
Sarah didn’t seem to have an answer, so she changed the subject.
“Does Lily know? About you two?”
“Not unless he’s said something to her. I certainly haven’t.”
“Don’t! It’s up to him to tell her if he wants to.”
“I know. I’m not hanging around his house half-dressed all the time, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried about that.”
“I’m here because of work, Sarah, not because I needed a romantic – escape.”
“Interesting choice of words.”
“Which words?” Joey asked.
“Escape. Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“And what, exactly, do you think I want to escape?”
“New York?”
“I love New York!”
“Being alone? Because if that’s what you’re doing, Joey, it’s just not fair. Lily and Ian have been through hell. The last thing they need is someone who’s just after a romantic interlude. Someone who will then disappear from their lives.”
“I won’t disappear.”
“No?”
“Not from them.”
“Meaning what? A life of emails and Skype? Great!”
Joey could feel her anger rising again and this time she just didn’t feel like tamping it down. “Look, Sarah, you don’t have to like the fact that Ian and I –”
“Ian and you!” Sarah said scornfully.
“Yes! Ian and I!” And now, Joey felt powerless to hold back. Her emotions rushed out in a torrent.
“I don’t claim to know where this is going. I don’t have any idea what the future will bring. I don’t know what, if anything, I mean, or could mean, to Ian and I don’t know for sure – though I have a pretty good idea – how Lily would feel about sharing her dad.
“But I do know that he feels something for me. And that he has been lonely for an awfully long time, and that this just might be the first time since his wife died that he’s allowed another woman into his life. If that’s all this ends up being, fine. I’m seriously okay with that. Even if I end up alone in New York.”
The J M Barrie Ladies' Swimming Society Page 16
