by Jules Wake
Jason had to admire his loyalty to his wife, no matter how misplaced it might be.
‘Bonjour, can I help you, monsieur?’
Jason smiled. ‘I took a wrong turn. I’m trying to find my way to dinner. I followed the smell.’
‘Bonne, however this is the kitchen.’ To his surprise the woman spoke fluent English with a slight Birmingham accent. ‘The dining room is down this corridor, take the second door on the right and follow that corridor to the left and it’s the third door on the right.’
‘Does anyone ever get hot food?’ asked Jason, he took a look around the room. Half of it looked like a professional kitchen with stainless steel tops and counters, the other half was more cosy with a sofa in the corner, a dresser piled with papers, a bag of knitting and assorted boxes and bags.
Her faded blue eyes twinkled. ‘We walk fast.’
The whippet-thin build under the simple denim dress belied her easy statement.
‘Sorry, I’m Jason. A friend of Siena’s.’ The half-finished jigsaw on a low table under the window between two shabby armchairs caught his interest. One of the chairs held a pile of dog-eared fashion magazines.
‘Siena?’ The woman clasped bony hands together, knuckles white as she turned her intense gaze to his face. ‘How is she? Is she alright? There’s been such a fuss and commotion but is she safe?’
‘You must be Agnes.’
She straightened in surprise.
‘Siena talks about you.’ He nodded towards the puzzle. ‘She’s fine. Staying at her sister’s in England.’ It was easy to picture Siena here in the kitchen, curled up in the chair, her feet tucked underneath her, reading one of the magazines. ‘In fact,’ he was sure Siena wouldn’t mind, ‘she bought you a puzzle. One of London, a thousand pieces.’
‘God bless her. She’s a good girl.’ Agnes eyes sharpened. ‘Make sure you look after her; Lord knows, someone should.’
‘Don’t worry I intend to.’ The words came out as a promise, not to Agnes but to himself.
Chapter 31
Waking up was the worst. The view from the dormer window in Siena’s new bedroom was beautiful but it didn’t stop her thinking of all the mornings she’d woken next to Jason. Her subconscious couldn’t seem to grasp that there would be no warm body to stretch out and touch. For two mornings in a row, she’d blindly reached out for him. Then their last conversation would fill her head. ‘I want you to leave.’ ‘This was always going to be temporary.’
And she’d signed up to the whole temporary, day by day thing; never dreaming she’d fall in love with him. He’d made no promises. He’d been totally honest with her. She had no one to blame but herself.
And she was going to get over it.
After that, she focused on the day ahead. What she needed to do. Getting used to her new routine.
There was an awful lot to be said for being so close to work. It gave her an extra couple of hours in the morning to work on the clothes she and Lisa had bought. The midnight blue shift dress in a size eighteen had been altered to a size twelve and she’d removed the ugly, cheap beading around the neck, replacing it with a satin trim. Concentrating so hard on the detailed work also stopped her thinking about other things.
Tripping down the stairs, she greeted Marcus with a deliberately cheery smile.
‘Morning. Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?’
‘No reason.’ The smile on her face hurt, it was so forced.
Christmas Eve.
Her stomach flipped over. How would she react seeing his face again? How hard would it be to resist throwing herself into his arms?
‘Come on then, lets getting cracking. Al’s very excited about today’s specials. Been muttering about knocking up an aubergine and goats’ cheese timbale. I always thought a timbale was a musical instrument.’
‘I think you might mean timpani.’
‘Possibly. But local aubergines? He’s having a laugh.’
Siena tutted and shook her head. ‘The aubergines have been sourced from the orangery at Stainglass Manor, under the personal care of Lady Drinkwater’s favourite gardener, sexy Spaniard Luis Mendoza. Have you not heard of Luis’ prize aubergines?’
‘Is that what they’re calling them these days?’ Will’s dry voice quipped.
‘There’s a gentleman at table five asking for a word with you, Siena,’ announced Marcus as she took a break at the bar mid-afternoon.
Will straightened, shooting Siena a concerned look before asking, ‘What does he look like?’
‘Oldish. Grey hair. Quite distinguished. Well dressed.’
‘Not Yves,’ she said to Will.
‘Who’s Yves?’ Marcus quivered with curiosity.
‘Long story.’
‘Do you want me to go find out who he is?’ asked Will.
‘No. I’m on home turf this time. If he tries to make me leave I’ll scream very loudly.’ She started towards the restaurant.
‘I’ll check on you every five minutes.’
‘Thanks Will.’ It was such a shame Lisa couldn’t see this side of him.
Rounding the corner to the restaurant, her eyes sought out table five. It was the one in the corner which Marcus usually looked after.
‘Harry!’
Her stepfather rose to greet her, kissing her on both cheeks.
‘Shouldn’t you be at the Chateau? Your birthday party?’
‘That’s what private helicopters are for,’ he said with a wry smile. He stepped out from behind the table and took her in an embrace. ‘I’m very pleased to see you.’ His voice sounded choked. ‘I’ve been so worried about you.’
She buried her head in his tweedy chest, smelling his familiar Ralph Lauren Polo aftershave.
He took a step back, his hands still on both of her arms and gave her an assessing look.
‘All things considered, you look as if you’ve survived. Can you sit down for a minute?’ He glanced back and Siena grinned as she saw Will’s head bob around the corner.
‘Yes, that’s my boss. He’s checking I’m safe.’
A look of distaste crossed Harry’s face and anger flashed in his eyes.
Siena pulled back. Harry never got angry. He’d been her stepfather for ten years and she’d never once seen him lose his temper.
‘Safe. An interesting word. I thought you were safe with the son of my oldest friend. I thought his age and experience would protect you.’
She ducked her head.
‘I had no idea that you weren’t happy. Your mother and I have had words. Although,’ his expression softened. For some reason he really did adore his wife, ‘I do believe she had your best interests at heart and she had no idea what Yves was really like.’
‘I don’t understand.’ How on earth did Harry know all this?
‘Yves won’t be bothering you again.’ Harry laid a hand on hers. ‘Siena, I am extremely angry with him. Needless to say he will not be welcome at the house. You can rest assured of that. I have made it quite clear that he is not to come anywhere near you. It is up to him, how he explains himself to his parents. I do wish you could have come to me.’
‘It’s OK, Harry.’ She patted his hand, trying to reassure him. Her stepfather looked older and greyer than she remembered. He’d lost a little weight too. ‘But how do you know? Did Maman tell you?’
He smiled sadly. ‘I thought you were happy.’
Harry was a consummate negotiator and a smart businessman. He chose his words carefully. He’d dodged her question neatly. But why?
‘No, no. I was happy. You’ve given me everything. I have no complaints. Honestly, please don’t think I’m not grateful, it’s just I’ve realised that I wasn’t really living. It sounds awful, I didn’t even realise how bored I was.’
‘You were unfulfilled I think.’ He straightened up the cutlery on the table. ‘Everyone needs a purpose. Your mother’s is organising and bossing me, but you? We should have seen that. I feel I’ve been remiss. I haven’t looked after you proper
ly.’
‘Please don’t think that.’
‘Siena, you had to run away from the people who love you to feel safe. I have not looked after you properly. Anything could have happened to you. No money. No home.’ He shuddered. ‘No, I did not look after you properly.’
‘You did. You always did but now I realise I need more. I’ve got a job. I like it. I’m living on my own. Cooking.’ She pulled a face. ‘Not so sure about the cleaning and stuff. I’m not saying I like being poor but there’s something quite good about knowing what something costs and that you can afford it because you earned it.’
Harry’s eyes shone and he blinked. ‘I’m so proud of you. You’ve shown yourself to be resourceful.’ Shaking his head, Harry took out one of the pristine linen handkerchiefs he always carried and dabbed his eyes. ‘You do know that I’ve always considered you to be my daughter, don’t you? Which brings me to another matter. Another young man has been to see me about you.’
The silence and stillness of the house told him no one was home. As soon as Jason opened the front door, he could hear and feel it, as if the dust settled the minute the key went in the lock and the shadows stopped jostling each other in dark corners.
He’d half hoped to hear Siena singing as she was getting ready for work. Smell her perfume. See her clothes draped across the newel post.
It was early and he itched with the grubbiness that came from all night travel. He’d come straight from the airport, after travelling for over twenty hours from the other side of France. He moved from the kitchen to the lounge. No shoes, no scarves, no leather jacket dumped on the back of a wooden chair. Unable to stop himself he took the stairs two at a time. Pushed open the bathroom door … the shelf, cleared.
She’d gone. It didn’t seem possible. All those hours on the train. On the plane imagining her being here. And she wasn’t.
Where was she? He couldn’t even contact her, as her phone was nestled in his jacket pocket along with his.
He walked back through to the lounge. Under the tree was a solitary present, wrapped in the red, white and gold wrapping paper that she’d chosen to co-ordinate with her ribbons and gift tags. Typical Siena, the present wrapping had been painstaking. Every tag and ribbon had to match. Each present for Will, Marcus and Al had to be perfect. The more ornate bows were reserved for Lisa, Nanna and Agnes. He’d teased her. Laughed at her concentration as the tip of her tongue touched her top lip each time she focused on each perfect parcel. As instructed, he’d helped by placing his fingers on the seams of paper for her to Sellotape and almost had the tips of them guillotined when she pulled the ribbons in tight knots.
He hadn’t helped with this particular parcel. He pulled it out from under the tree.
To Jason, with love, Siena x
It was Christmas Eve. In France they opened their presents today. He weighed the present in his hands. Did he even deserve this?
The paper slid off as he tugged at the ribbon and slid a finger along the perfect taped edge. In a nest of tissue paper lay a photo frame. From the picture Siena laughed up at him, the city of Paris spread out behind them both. The picture from Sacré-Coeur. Taken moments after he’d made his first mistake and not kissed her as he’d wanted to.
He cleared a space and put picture in the centre of the mantelpiece where it belonged. Hope and happiness shone in her eyes, almost teasing as if to say, ‘you might be a coward but I’ve got enough bravery for both of us.’ He’d made an absolute mess of things but she’d left him this, a moment of joy. That was her all over and he’d seriously underestimated her. This was the real Siena.
Siena didn’t belong in a fancy chateau; she wanted friendships, relationships, love.
He knew exactly where she’d be. With the people that mattered to her. He grinned and grabbed his car keys.
She cycled up the lane feeling the sun on her face and the satisfying twinge of hard labour in every muscle. With the basket on the front crammed full of mince pies, a bottle of red wine, smoked salmon, bagels and other Christmas delights, the additional weight made the slow climb even harder. Her thigh muscles screamed in protest but it would be worth it. She couldn’t help the smile that had taken over her lips ever since Harry’s visit.
She sighed and pedalled harder, pushing herself. Butterflies danced in her stomach. She hadn’t slept last night. She’d tried to keep herself busy. Found extra to do. Put on a front. Chatty, friendly, helpful but if she was completely honest, all her energy went into not thinking about when Jason would finally get here.
Harry had been a bit naughty abandoning him in France. After taking Jason to the Chateau thinking that Siena had gone there with Yves, Harry had left him to make his own way home, while he commissioned a private helicopter.
For a minute, she stopped and hopped off the pedals, giving in to the almost physical pain slicing through her chest. She wanted to see him. Where was he? Why hadn’t he been back to the brewery? It was hopeless; she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Their first tumultuous, clumsy, crazy field sex. Sharing his bed, her leg hooked over his, head on his chest, watching the lift and fall of his breathing as he slept.
Wincing as she sighed and took a breath, she gripped the bike ready to push herself off again. Before she could move, she heard the roar of a car engine and the crash of gears. Someone was going far too fast, speeding round the bend. Frantically trying to hop onto the pedal and get out of the way, she wobbled precariously.
Like a rhino bursting out of the undergrowth, the car roared around the corner. She threw herself out the way as it came to an emergency stop, tyres squealing and burnt rubber skinning the road.
She and the bike landed in a heap on the verge, her nose planted in a thick clump of mud and grass, as she registered that it was a Land Rover.
A door slammed. Running feet.
‘What the fuck do you think you were doing in the middle of the road and where the fuck have you been?’
Rolling over, she disentangled herself from the bike. Of course he’d be cross. Of course it would be her fault. Typical Jason.
‘Where have you been? And what the fuck were you doing driving like a crazy person?’ She laughed up at his cross face, her heart dancing at the very sight of him.
‘Where have I been? I’ve been travelling across France for bloody days trying to catch up with you.’ He seized her arms, eyes blazing. ‘Where were you?’
‘If I said in a police cell, would you believe me?’
He pulled her to him. ‘With you, anything is possible. I think that’s what I love about you.’
Her knees threatened to buckle as she looked into his handsome, fierce face.
And then his mouth was on hers kissing her furiously and she was kissing him back, winding her arms around his neck, her heart thudding at a million miles an hour. He held her, pressing her length up against his, in demanding possession as if he might never loosen his hold. Melting into him, her last coherent thought was that she was happy with that.
He broke off the kiss to suck in a breath, whispered, ‘Oh God, I missed you.’ He kissed her again before stopping to run his fingers along her cheekbones. ‘I’m sorry.’ And then reapplied his lips again. She was much too dazed to say a thing. With her heart singing inside she contented herself with savouring the deliciously possessive kisses.
An outraged tooting came from behind the Land Rover.
‘Shit.’ He gazed into her eyes. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’
She laughed. ‘Like where? Paris?’
‘That’s so not funny.’ He glared and ran back to the car, acknowledging the distinctly pissed off driver of the other car, who was making very rude gestures. Jason waved cheerily and hopped up into his driver’s seat to move the car over to the side of the road.
Shy all of a sudden, she started to pick her bike up, collecting the spilled groceries. As she went to pick up a bruised apple, his hand appeared on hers.
Crouched next to her he lifted her chin to look into her face.
&nbs
p; ‘Siena, I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?’
She sighed. ‘For what?’ For her falling in love with him when he’d made it clear he wasn’t in the market for permanency?
He took her hand. ‘For being a complete and utter knob.’
‘Oh, you can’t help that.’ She tried for a light smile but she could feel the sadness etched on her face. It was OK for him to miss her, she missed him too, but it didn’t really make that much difference to her. She wanted more and it wasn’t fair to expect it from him. She was the one who now wanted to change the rules. ‘Besides you were right.’
‘I was right.’ There was a panicked look on his face. ‘I’m a bloke. We’re never right.’
She smiled gently at him. ‘It was temporary. That’s all we agreed.’ She felt a tad guilty at the sudden blaze of expression that filled his face.
He hauled her into his arms, his nose almost touching hers. ‘I’ve changed my mind.’
‘Don’t I have any say?’ She gave him an arch look.
‘No, you bloody don’t. I’m not letting you go. I was a complete idiot, not able to see what was right under my nose.’
He looked down into her face, his eyes shining. ‘I love you. I don’t want you to leave. Please stay. You were right. We have more and I want more, much, much more.’
She reached up and touched his face hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. Her eyes brimming with tears, she gave him a tremulous smile. ‘I love you Jason.’
He hugged her to him and she relaxed into his chest, hearing his heart pounding in time with hers.
‘You know I have to get up for work soon,’ she said regretfully, stroking his naked chest.
‘At least neither of us has far to go.’ Jason nuzzled her neck and his hand swept across her breast. ‘In fact I can see my office from this window.’ He craned his neck to look out the window of the flat above the pub. ‘We can both be at work within thirty seconds.’
‘I think Will might have something to say if I turn up to work like this.’ Siena giggled.
