It turned out to be the best morning she’d had in years. She walked around the coast, past the priory she’d visited the day before, and along the beach, up toward the sixteenth-century castle. Skirting the building itself, she was super excited to see a large group of gray seals stretching out on the beaches, and even more excited at the sight of dolphin fins carving through the water out to sea.
Taking the longer path toward the old lime kilns, she passed the famous Gertrude Jekyll garden on the way. It wasn’t in bloom, but she spent some time admiring the layout before carrying on. The kilns were huge, much bigger than she’d expected, with six pots where the limestone had been roasted before being taken to the nearby jetty for transport to Scotland for agricultural use. One in three men on the island had worked there at the end of the nineteenth century. Now, though, the wind blew flakes of snow across the grass, which had already begun to settle in the cracks and crevices of the rocks.
After this, she crossed the rest of the nature reserve, trying to spot some of the birds in her guide book, but most of the time just enjoying the fresh winter morning, and the peace and quiet of the place. It was so rare nowadays, she thought, not to be able to hear anything but nature—no cars, no people, not even any planes, just her, the wind, and the curlews and oystercatchers.
At one point, she stopped and rested on a small stone wall, looking out across the fields and beyond them to the iron-gray sea and the heavy sky. She pulled her phone out and read the email that Lesa had sent that morning, then slipped her phone back in her pocket.
Don’t forget, if you change your mind, Robbie and I would love to have you back for Christmas dinner, Lesa had said. Just turn up—we don’t care.
Lesa was convinced that Angel would want to go home before the ten days were done. Or, perhaps more importantly, she was worried that Angel wouldn’t be around in ten days’ time.
It was difficult to remember how miserable she’d been back in February. She could barely recall the depth of the loneliness and unhappiness she’d felt. Now, it puzzled her to think she would even consider taking her own life over a man.
But of course, that hadn’t been the reason she’d done it—Eoin’s departure had been the catalyst, not the cause. Depression comes from a deep-rooted blight, sparked by a chemical imbalance that twists a person’s reason and strips away every positive thought they have. At the time, she’d felt she’d ruined the relationship with her inability to conceive, and that she didn’t deserve to be happy. She didn’t feel that way anymore.
She closed her eyes and felt the icy, salty air blow across her face. Unbidden, the memory of Hal’s lips on hers came into her mind again, and she lifted a mitten-covered hand and pressed her woolly fingers to her mouth.
Lesa couldn’t be more wrong. Coming here had been absolutely the right thing to do. She felt reborn.
It didn’t mean she’d never feel down again. Or that she could cease taking her meds, or stop seeing her therapist.
But even in the short time she’d been here, she’d changed. She’d been slowly building toward it all year, baby steps as she rebuilt her self-worth and confidence, but coming here, she’d really begun to heal.
When the tide had caught her, she’d thought it would be a terrible setback, and had prepared herself for a plunge into emotional darkness, but it hadn’t come. Instead, she felt proud of herself for coping. She’d survived, and even though Hal had rescued her at the end, she hadn’t asked for help. It was an important distinction to her.
He’d helped heal her, too. By taking care of her for no reward other than to help another human being, he’d renewed her faith in humanity. And his kiss had shown her that she was still very much alive inside. Even if she never saw him again, she would always remember the way he’d pressed her up against the door, his self-control vanishing briefly to reveal a blaze of heat that had sent her thermostat shooting through the roof.
It had been so long since she’d been loved by a man. She’d been apart from Eoin a year now, and things had been going wrong sometime before that. It had been ten years since she’d dated anyone else. Eoin had been only an inch taller than she was, and slender. Sex had been good enough, but she wouldn’t have called it stellar.
What would it be like to go to bed with a man like Halvar Carlson? Again, she thought of the way he’d pushed her up against the door, and how it had felt when he’d brushed his tongue against hers, firing her up. Could she imagine how it would feel to take off her clothes and slip under the covers with him, skin on skin? To have his hands, his mouth, on her breasts, between her thighs? To have him sliding inside her?
Heat filled her face despite the icy wind. It was never going to happen, but even the dream was a Christmas present she could never have thought to receive.
Oh Santa, she thought. If I could ask for anything, would you be able to grant my wish?
At that moment, her phone beeped, announcing the arrival of a text.
She pulled it out and briefly, just before it disappeared, she saw the name, Hal Carlson.
Her eyes widened, and her heart missed a beat. She’d sent him the text yesterday, so he had her number. Giving a suspicious glance up at the sky, half-expecting to see Santa leaning down from his sleigh as he spied on her, she opened the message.
Hey, it said. Been thinking about you. Taking the kids to Berwick this p.m., but would you like a Christmas drink at the pub this evening? Hal x
She smiled when she saw the single kiss at the end of his message. Unexpected tears pricked her eyes. He wanted to see her again.
It wasn’t why she’d come here, but she wasn’t going to pass up on such a wonderful gift.
She texted back, I’d love to! What time?
Seven p.m.?
I’ll be there, she replied.
Cool, he said. Look forward to it :-) I think we’re going to get a lot of snow tonight!
Angel hesitated, wondering whether to be bold and flirt a little, then decided, what the hell! I don’t mind, she replied. I have your kiss to keep me warm!
Her pulse raced as she waited for his reply. Then the phone vibrated, and his message appeared.
If kisses were snowflakes, I’d send you a blizzard :-)
She laughed and texted back, xxxxx, then slid her phone back into her pocket and stood. She felt as if she was seven years old again, before her father died, before all the beauty had been stolen from the festive season, when Christmas Eve was still magical, filled with expectation and excitement.
Setting out across the last field, she headed toward the town, her footsteps as light as the snowflakes.
Chapter Sixteen
“Dad...” Jamie’s voice had turned from pleading to mutinous. “Why can’t I live with you?”
“I’ve already explained why not.” Hal glanced at his kids in the rear-view mirror, noted his son’s sullen face, and returned his gaze to the road.
“But—”
“Leave it,” Hal snapped. He was tired of the argument. Jamie had brought it up at breakfast that morning, again at lunch, and a third time in the car, on the way to Berwick.
“I want to live with you, too,” Brenna announced.
“Now look what you’ve done,” Hal said harshly. “You’ve started your sister off. I’m really sorry, guys, but you just can’t live with me, and that’s the end of the story, so please stop going on about it.”
He gritted his teeth, his fingers gripping the steering wheel, and drove in silence for a whole minute.
When he finally glanced in the mirror again, Brenna was crying, and Jamie was looking out of the window, his face pale and tears glistening in his eyes.
Fuck. Hal blew out a long breath. “I’m sorry I shouted. I’m just frustrated, that’s all. Of course I’d like to see more of you, but it’s hard at the moment. I hate it when it’s your turn to stay with me and I can’t be there because I’m up in Edinburgh, working.”
“It’s Charles’s fault.” Jamie’s chest heaved as he struggled not to give
in to his emotion. “He makes you work late because he knows it’s going to annoy Mum.”
Hal pursed his lips, unable to argue with that. As much as he wanted to agree with his son, though, he didn’t want to cause problems between them all at Christmas. It was hard enough for the kids to know that their parents had broken up, without him causing friction between the children and the guy who might end up being their stepfather.
The thought of it made him feel physically sick, but there was nothing he could do about it, so it was pointless to dwell on it.
“Whatever the reason,” he said, “it’s my job, and I can’t afford to walk away from it, much as I’d like to. You know I’m looking for another position. If I can find something closer to home, it’ll be much better for all of us.” He didn’t add that it was extremely unlikely in the current economic climate that the perfect job would present itself. He loved his work and it was reasonably well paid. If only the biggest wanker in the world wasn’t his boss, everything would have been fine and dandy.
“It’s not fair,” Jamie said quietly. “Charles isn’t our dad. I don’t want him to marry Mum. I hate him.”
“Jamie,” Hal said sharply. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Well, I do. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. And I know you do, too. Why do you have a go at me when I say it?”
“Because your mum loves him,” Hal said hoarsely. “It’s what happens when a marriage comes to an end. People break up, and then eventually they meet someone else, and sometimes they get married again. It’s sad, but it happens all the time.”
“Don’t you love Mummy anymore?” Brenna asked.
Hal sighed. He’d been through all this with them both before, but clearly they needed more reassurance. “I’ll always be very fond of her,” he told them. “She’s your mother, and she’ll always be very special to me because of that. But no, I don’t love her. Or at least, I’m not in love with her.”
“Will you get married again?” his son wanted to know.
Hal’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t have any plans to.”
“You could marry Angel,” Brenna said.
“Ah... We’ve only just met.”
“She’s pretty,” Brenna added.
“Yes... that’s true.”
“Have you kissed her yet?” Jamie asked.
“Jesus... will you two give it a rest?”
“He has,” Jamie informed his sister.
“Kissing’s yuck,” Brenna said.
“Absolutely,” Hal agreed. “I don’t want to hear about you kissing boys until you’re at least thirty-five.”
Jamie snorted. Then he said, “She is pretty.”
Hal’s lips curved up. “Yeah, she is.” He’d been unable to get rid of the image of pushing Angel up against the door, the surprise and desire that had lit her eyes before he’d lowered his lips to hers. Her body had been yielding against his, her mouth soft. He wanted her, but not only physically—he wanted to talk to her again. To listen to her laugh. It had been so long since he’d enjoyed a woman’s company. That was why he’d sent the text. And why he was so looking forward to getting back to the island. He watched the wipers brush away the snowflakes, hoping it didn’t get any thicker before he was safely home.
He changed the subject, and managed to avoid any further discussion of his love life until they reached Berwick.
Hal pulled up outside the house, feeling the familiar twinge of sadness at the thought that this was no longer his home, as well as a deep swell of resentment at the sight of Charles’s car on the driveway. He let the kids out, and followed them up to the front door. Rebecca opened it as the children approached.
“I’ve missed you!” She bent to give them a hug and a kiss, then straightened and looked at Hal. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He studied his soon-to-be-ex-wife. Rebecca had long flame-colored hair. She’d been stunning at twenty, and she was still stunning now, ten years and two kids later.
She was the mother of his children, and he’d shared the most intimate parts of his life with her, both physically and emotionally. Why had it all gone wrong?
“Merry Christmas,” he said.
Her hard features softened a little. “Merry Christmas. I’m glad the snow held off long enough for you to get here.”
“I’m just hoping it’s not a foot deep by the time I get back.”
She smiled, and he felt a little catch inside him. Why was he feeling so wistful? He guessed it was because it was so near to Christmas, which was a family time, when all was said and done.
“Daddy’s got a girlfriend,” Brenna said.
Hal stared at her, momentarily nonplussed. Rebecca dropped her gaze to her daughter, her expression hardening. “What?”
“She fell in the sea and Daddy rescued her,” Brenna told her helpfully. “He kissed her,” she said, adding, “Ow!” as her brother elbowed her in the ribs.
“Go inside.” Rebecca gestured to both kids. Brenna ran in obediently, but Jamie turned first to his father and gave him a hug before turning to follow her.
Hal shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, watching Rebecca pull the door almost shut behind her. Folding her arms and shivering a little, she walked a few steps away from the house, then turned to him.
“You’re seeing someone?” she asked.
“Not really.”
She waited for more information, obviously realized none was forthcoming, and narrowed her eyes. “It’s not on, Hal.”
“What’s not on?”
“Seeing other women in front of the children.”
“I’m not seeing other women,” he said impatiently. “There was one woman, and she got caught by the tide. I found her at midnight in the refuge box. She stayed the night until her cottage was ready the next day.”
“But you kissed her?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“It is if you’re doing it in front of my children.”
Resentment at the injustice of it all flared inside him, and he put his hands on his hips. “I didn’t kiss her in front of the kids. And anyway, you had an affair. You’re living with someone else.”
“I’d hardly compare my stable relationship to your fuckfests,” she said icily.
At that, his irritation faded away, to be replaced by a cold calmness. She didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. He hadn’t been with anyone else since they’d broken up. The kids hadn’t seen him with another woman until Angel had arrived on the scene, and Rebecca’s description of the short time they’d spent together and their innocent kiss as a fuckfest was laughable.
“I’ll see you next week,” he said, and turned to go.
“Hal.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm. He turned, a little tired and dispirited. He wanted to get back before the snow started in earnest, and meet Angel at the pub. She made him smile, and he hadn’t done a lot of that lately.
“What?” he said, perhaps more sharply than he’d meant.
Her cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry. I... I suppose I’m a bit jealous.”
He studied her face, waiting to see what emotion her words stirred up, but all he got was a kind of bored resignation. “Only because you’re being a dog in the manger. You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either. You want me to be alone so you can feel superior that you have someone and I don’t.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I know you don’t like me being with Charles—do you think it’s easy for me to think of you with someone else?”
He ran a hand through his hair, feeling it damp from the settling snowflakes. “There’s no point in talking about this.”
She looked over her shoulder, and Hal followed her gaze just in time to see the curtains twitch. Charles was watching them. Rebecca dropped her gaze to study her shoes for a moment. Then she looked back at Hal.
“He’s not you,” she said.
“Yeah, I know. Are y
ou breaking out the champagne?”
She bit her bottom lip. “I miss you.”
Hal stared at her. She was saying she was comparing the two of them and finding Charles wanting.
He supposed he should have felt gleeful, but instead he just felt a sweep of frustration. She’d thrown in the towel on their marriage, only to announce now, two years later, that she missed him?
“You made me laugh,” she said simply. “When you weren’t driving me mad.” Her lips twisted.
He looked away, up at the gray sky. “Rebecca...”
“I pushed you too far. I know that now. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I know I wasn’t fair to you.”
Hal’s teeth hurt where he was clenching his jaw so hard. Now she admits it? “No,” he said, “you weren’t.”
“I know, and I wish I could undo what I did, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” Her eyes were warm.
His head spun. He didn’t know what to make of this. She’d been angry with him for so long. Her soft words made him feel uncomfortable and mixed up. “I have to go.”
“Wait. Just... talk to me for a minute.”
“I need to get back before the tide turns.”
“Hal!” She almost stamped her feet. “God, you always make me so frustrated! You never have time for me. You never put me first.”
He stared at her. “You’re kidding, right? After everything I’ve done for you?” Fury blasted through him, held in for too long. “I agreed that it was fair for you to stay in the house because of the kids, but you never said thank you once. You always take everything you’re given as if you’re entitled to it.”
“I was the woman in the relationship—it was the decent thing to do.”
His eyes widened, and he gave a humorless laugh. “Oh, suddenly you’re playing the female card?” In the past, she’d blamed men for everything that had gone wrong in the world, and she’d hated being treated as the fairer sex. To hear her claiming she deserved the house because of her gender was laughable. “I agreed to you keeping the house because it was the kids’ home. But what did you do? You moved your lover in. Into our bed.” Jeez, it still stung.
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