"Hey," he pulls me into him in an attempt to quell my peals of laughter. "I'm trying to get into your good books, so I can get you into bed."
I know he's only half-joking and I decide that now, under cover of darkness, and with only the lights from the TV screen flickering, is the time to confess.
"You said we were putting the past behind us and what went before didn't matter. But what if there was something…recent?"
"Look, when I went away on holiday, yes, you were on my mind. But I had no idea if there would ever be a right time to let you into my dark secret. And what if you'd rejected me outright? I'm not the sort of person who sleeps around for the sake of it, Maddie, but we're adults and we've both had other partners."
Ryan thinks I'm questioning him.
"Um…I wasn't talking about you, actually."
His arm slips slightly as he adjusts his position.
"This is about you?" There's a note of incredulity in his voice that makes it waver.
Now his arm slips down off my shoulder and he fumbles for my hand, turning to face me, sideways-on.
"You were seeing someone else while I was away?" All I can hear is disbelief and shock in his voice now.
"No. It wasn't like that. It was just the once and it was one of those mad moments that could so easily not have happened at all. But it did, although it didn't mean a thing. It was just two lonely people thrown together under a weird set of circumstances."
We're facing each other, barely eighteen inches apart, and while I can't make out his expression, his eyes are cold.
"I won't pretend it doesn't hurt, or surprise me, Maddie. But while I might be capable of jealousy, I'm not a hypocrite. We have no choice but to put the past firmly behind us and all I want from you is confirmation that it didn't hold any meaning."
My hand is still wrapped up in his and his grip around it increases.
"If I could undo it, I would, believe me. I knew you'd be upset and the last thing I want is to hurt you. It was a meaningless lapse that was so out of character, I can't really explain it to myself."
"As long as it wasn't that damned Lewis Hart. There's something about him I don't like. That's one of the reasons I came for you, if I'm totally honest. Hopefully he'll be gone by the time you return to Ash Cottage."
Suddenly it feels like I've been stabbed through the heart with a shard of ice. What can I possibly say to Ryan now? I've been such a fool. Didn't Sarah, from the estate agents, mention something about Lewis that referred to women falling all over him? Does he play the strong, silent and hurt type, with the intention of making vulnerable, lonely women feel sorry for him? With me it was sex; with Aggie was there something more sinister? Did he hope to get her to sign over the cottage to him, prior to her death?
Anger wells up, together with tears and I can only hope that if Ryan notices anything he thinks it's because of the film. All love stories should end well, but even in a film it only serves to remind me that this isn't always the case.
When we say goodnight at the door to the guest bedroom, Ryan holds me so tightly that I think he's never going to let go. I know what he's thinking and I hate myself for what I've done. The one thing he's asked of me is the one thing I can't give him and that hurts so much. His kiss is urgent, although we both know we aren't ready to take that next step – especially after this evening.
Lying in bed, alone, I let the tears come, hoping that in some way it will cleanse me of the guilt and the anger. I'm so lucky that Ryan is here to save me from myself and from making any future decisions that could pull my world apart. How can I still be so naive at times, after everything life has taught me?
LEWIS
CHAPTER 32
Having just managed to get Joanna to leave, I check my watch and see that it's ten o'clock already. I was hoping to be on the road early, given that I wasn't able to get away yesterday as I'd originally planned. For some reason, I convinced myself the traffic would be lighter this morning. I have no idea why I'm still dragging my feet, though. If I'd left first thing I could have avoided her this morning. Joanna's constant interruptions have been annoying and I have no idea how Terence puts up with it. This time she brought round a mini Christmas cake in case I was hungry on the trip home.
I've done everything I can with the materials Madeleine ordered. The flooring was probably the easiest I've ever laid and the click-lock system worked well. The kitchen cabinets took a bit of juggling as one wall ran out by two inches and I had to cannibalise one of the cupboards to make it fit. But it's done and I know she'll be pleased.
"It looks good, Aggie, doesn't it?" My voice echoes around the conservatory, strangely hollow now because of the new floor and the sparse furnishings.
In my mind I'm transported back to the last time I saw Aggie, sitting in her chair and looking out over the valley.
"You aren't yourself this morning. Do you want me to ring the doctor?" She'd looked so pale and tired; it was hard to hide my concern.
"No, I couldn't sleep last night, that's all. Come and sit for a while, never mind worrying about that dripping tap." She was always the same whenever I called in, she didn't seem to notice that the cottage was badly in need of attention. All she ever wanted to do was to sit and talk.
"There are things to say, Lewis. Things I want you to know."
"It's not necessary, Aggie. I'm fine and I'm here for you, no matter what you need, you only have to say."
She'd reached out and laid her hand over mine. For an old lady her hands were delicate still, and soft. The pressure was light, but she'd lingered, as if it was a special moment for her.
"It's good to have you here, it's a blessing. You have a kind heart, Lewis, and that touches me more than you can know. It's also a relief because I have high hopes for you, you know."
She looked at me knowingly, as if she had a secret she had no intention of sharing and yet the effect would be profound.
"Well, I can only hope I won't let you down." I said it half-jokingly, but beneath my words there was an undercurrent of sadness. I was too set in my ways to change the man I had become and I wasn't sure that Aggie could ever really understand that.
"Don't you worry. When you need a nudge in the right direction I'm going to be there. You don't think I have any intention of leaving you, do you?"
She looked so frail that day and something inside me welled up. I had to swallow hard to remove the huge lump that was sticking in my throat. It never occurred to me that it would be the last time…
I hear the door click, realising I didn't lock it after seeing Joanna out and when I spin around, Ryan is standing there. His jaw is set and he's in the mood for a fight. I let out a deep breath and close my eyes for a couple of seconds. I don't want to let go of the image of Aggie and bring myself back into the moment, but she's gone and I have to accept that.
He's staring at me, barely holding back his anger.
Clearly, Maddie told him.
My hesitation puts me on the back foot and he's in my face before I can even evaluate the situation. Know your enemy; know their weak point – but this man isn't defending his territory, he's defending his woman. A woman he believes has been wronged. I deserve whatever I get.
I stand immobile as he angrily grabs the edges of my jacket, pulling me into his face with a strength that comes from raging anger.
"You piece of scum. You think that doing this," he spits out the words as he casts his eyes around the room, "will make up for what you did? You just couldn't help yourself, could you? Lonely woman, vulnerable and at an all-time low point in her life. I bet you couldn't believe your luck. This isn't some worldly woman who was looking for one night of fun. This is Maddie – gentle, caring, with a heart so big she can't bear to think of anyone hurting. You seized your moment and played the sympathy card, knowing full-well that was the only way she would ever have dropped her guard. You think that nothing can touch you, that you can live without due regard to the people you come into contact with. But you'll live to r
egret what you've done, mark my words. I'm the one she's going to be spending her life with and I'll make sure she's never vulnerable – ever again."
Reluctantly, he allows his hands to slacken off their grip, realising that he's on the edge. His eyes are wild and he turns away from me, running a hand through his hair in desperation. He wants to hit me, but that's not the sort of man he is and we both know that. He's an intellectual and not the sort to demean himself by getting into a fist-fight.
Whatever I say now is redundant. 'Sorry' will inflame the situation – an explanation will sound lame because there is no excuse. I know the difference between a woman who can handle casual sex and a woman who is the commitment type. I can't dispute a single word, so I say nothing.
"You need to leave, now. Maddie thinks you left yesterday and I'm bringing her back this afternoon. I expect you to be long-gone. If you try to get in touch with her, then I'll seek you out and next time I won't hold back."
I have to admire the man. I could fell him with one sweep of my leg and have him lying on the floor in an arm lock. I feel uncomfortable about the mistake I made, which wasn't planned, as he seems to believe it to have been. She's the sort of woman you feel safe with and maybe I wanted to savour that feeling for a while. That doesn't excuse the fact that I should have known better. I've hurt her because I've left her with a memory that's both confusing and, now Ryan knows, will always hang between them. I wouldn't rob her of the happiness she deserves and I can only hope he's the bigger man and will see it for what it was.
He may have a lot going for him, but from where I'm standing I can see one big flaw. Madeleine isn't a trophy; she's about more than looking good on someone's arm. He'll do and say all the right things because he's hit a mid-life crisis. Unless I'm very mistaken, he's panicking that if he doesn't get a ring on someone's finger pretty darned quick, it will be too late. I've seen it before. I only hope that this will turn out well – for them both.
"Next time you take a woman to bed, stop and check out your conscience first. The reason Maddie is with me is precisely because I'm not the sort of man to take unfair advantage of her. She deserves more than that. The difference between you and me is that I know it and you don't." He spits the words out with all the bitterness he's feeling, turning only to add, "Time you left. You've done enough damage already."
MADDIE
CHAPTER 33
Next morning Ryan disappears for a couple of hours while I pack up my things. He has to drop something important in to Nathan and on the way he offers to pick up some fresh supplies for me to take home.
The journey back is uneventful. The work on the culvert is well under way and the flood water is, thankfully, under control. Only a sparse stream flows down the hill, confined to the gutter and that is now diverted by a wall of sandbags before it hits the dip in the road.
It isn't a surprise to find Ash Cottage empty. What is a complete surprise is the unexpected transformation. The walnut flooring has been laid throughout the entire ground floor. Venturing into the kitchen, it has been turned from bare, plastered walls into something out of a magazine. This isn't the same cottage any more.
Ryan's reaction is laced with anger and I'm not sure why. "Is everything as you expected it to be?"
"Yes, and more. I thought Lewis was only laying the flooring in the kitchen area." It's hard to believe all of this has been achieved in seven days.
We walk back through into the sitting room. It's still full of boxes, which are now neatly stacked in one corner and include several new, unopened ones. Probably birthday and Christmas presents from the boys. The walnut floor looks simply beautiful and the temporary kitchen is now gone. The freshly painted white walls everywhere are a testament to Lewis' hard work. The landing, too, is pristine and throwing open the door to the master bedroom reveals a walnut floor without a speck of dust or debris on it. Lewis was right; the finished walls look so good that a minor imperfection here and there stops it from looking too bland and uniform. Rustic, he'd said.
My head is buzzing with questions. Why? Why had he worked non-stop, going way beyond our agreed list of tasks to make the cottage feel, at last, habitable? Ryan continues to follow me as I walk around from room to room. The dilapidated state of the second bedroom, the shower room, and the downstairs bathroom are now in sharp contrast and a reminder of the original state. It feels like a home in the making.
"This is going to cost you a lot of money, Maddie. I hope you agreed a price up front. You can't criticise the man's work, only his somewhat dubious persona."
Was I wrong about Lewis Hart? Did he do this more for Aggie than for me, his customer? Or was he content to plough on, knowing full well that before too long it would probably be up for sale again?
Confusion begins to overwhelm me and as we head back out to the kitchen again a sideways glance into the dining room reminds me that Ryan cannot stay. There's only one bed and it's the bed. I couldn't bear the thought of lying next to him, knowing what I'd done.
"We need to move your bed upstairs," he touches my arm lightly, realising I'm deep in thought.
"Yes, good idea, although perhaps I should wait until the second bedroom is ready and put it in there. I think I might go for a white frame, and not cream, for the main bedroom."
I'm thinking on my feet, not wanting Ryan to touch anything in that room. I will dispose of the sheets and the bedding and along with them the memories.
"I'm still not sure you should stay here all alone, Maddie. Admittedly it has warmed up a fair bit today and now the damp has been treated, and the rain has stopped – things are drying out nicely. But you will need to have those fan heaters on, though, to continue to put heat back into this place, or you will have a problem with condensation and mould."
He follows me through into the kitchen again, and Lewis has executed my plan to the letter. I run my fingers along the walnut worktops and over the shaker-style cream panel on the fridge door. He's good at what he does and a man who pays attention to detail like this can't be all bad, can he?
That's when I notice the envelope tucked away behind the kettle. It has 'Miss Brooks' hand-written on the front. With nervous fingers I prise it open, conscious that Ryan is watching me intently.
Inside there are two sheets of paper. The first is a short note from Lewis.
"What does it say?" Ryan is too polite to look over my shoulder, but his forehead reflects a hint of a frown and his demeanour is one of suspicion.
"Only that the keys are in the post box and the engineer came to sort out the fault on the telephone line. The phone is now working." As I turn to the second page my eyebrows shoot up.
"I knew it! You should have made sure you had a written agreement in place with prices for each of the jobs."
Ryan looks so angry, but I have to keep re-reading the words, which are just a list of jobs done, as my eyes can't believe the bottom-line total.
"No, quite the reverse. We didn't agree on an actual amount, but this is what I expected to pay for just stripping out and replacing the kitchen. He hasn't charged for laying the flooring in the rest of the cottage, or the work he did upstairs…" The man has also left without a single word, not even a 'good-bye'. What was I expecting? A little sign-off saying, 'It was nice sleeping with you?'
Ryan raises an eyebrow. "I suspect another invoice will arrive in the post, shortly. You know what the going rate is, Maddie, so don't let him take advantage of you. It was his choice to work over the holiday period."
None of this makes any sense. With Ryan here, all agitated and angry beneath the surface, I'm trying to act as if I'm mildly surprised, but pleased. I am pleased, of course, but what I really want is to understand what's going on. Is this about guilt? Maybe Lewis has a conscience after all and he must surely realise by now that Ryan and I are together. Why else would I walk out of my home and leave a contractor to his own devices? Perhaps he was worried that I'd make a fuss, say something that would tarnish his reputation. After all, everyone knows everyone'
s business here and this is where he hopes to make his home.
Ryan is fussing, wanting to bring in the groceries from the car and sort the fan heaters before he leaves. He's back to work tomorrow and I know he's stressing about that. His mind will already be in work-mode.
When we eventually hug goodbye, it's a solemn moment.
"I'm going to really miss you, Maddie. You've become like a fixture and fitting, the house won't be the same without you. At least you'll be back to work in two more weeks, well, I mean online, of course."
He's really anxious and I can see he's in two minds about whether to leave or insist he stays.
"I'll be fine, and now I have the phone line working I'll get the internet connection up and running. If you need me before then, just shout. It will only take about a day or two to paint the second bedroom and then I can sort the interior. I'm going to miss you, too. But that's a good thing, isn't it?"
His hug is gentle, but at the same time it almost lifts me off the ground.
"This is going to be our year, Maddie; the year of no looking back and moving forward together." The words are a mere whisper as his lips brush against my cheek and he buries his face in my hair. It's a tender moment and a part of me doesn't want him to go. Maybe I never was the sort of person who could survive on their own and now I'm too old to change my ways. I need to be needed, but I also want to be wanted.
At that precise moment the decision is taken, I'm going to sell Ash Cottage as soon as the renovation is complete.
"Thanks, Ryan, for everything. At last I'm beginning to feel whole again, instead of a person who has been torn into little pieces. Now go, that's an order and let me know if there are any problems on your first day back."
CHAPTER 34
It was the longest night of my life. Tossing and turning, even between the crisp new sheets I'd taken out of the wrappers without having the motivation to iron them. Everything on the bed was new, memories seemingly erased. But how do you erase the memories inside your head and the questions that come through, unbidden, in a steady stream?
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