by Clare Revell
“Did you get a name?”
“Miles Kingsman. He’s someone she knows from work.”
“Is he blond?” he asked hesitantly. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know or not.
“Yes.”
Jared swallowed hard, nausea rising. That would make him the bloke Niamh remembers. What’s so special about him? Why does she remember him and not me?
“She’s hoping he might jog her memory, but I don’t like the guy. Tried telling her, but she wasn’t having it.”
He sighed. “She never does listen once she decides to do something. You know that almost as well as I do.”
“Well, this time you have to make her listen. Fight for her, or you’re going to lose her. There is something about this guy. I’ve got the same feeling I did about Vince, and you know how that ended up.”
“Yeah.” Jared remembered all too well how Liam almost died several times once Vince came on the scene. And the way Niamh woke screaming in pain in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat adamant someone was electrocuting her. “I’ll talk to her when I get off shift tonight. And speaking of work there goes the alarm. Got to run. Bye.”
****
Niamh was about to go to bed when she heard the key in the door and pulled herself up. She wasn’t expecting Jared tonight, but something flared within her at the prospect of seeing him. She’d missed him. But the man who stood in front of her wasn’t the one she was expecting. He was filthy. Soot in his hair and smudges on his face. “Jared?”
His hands shook as he stood there, not saying anything. He’d never come home like this before, she was sure of it.
“Are the showers at the station not working?”
Still he didn’t say anything.
“Jared, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
His tongue ran over his lips. “Bad day,” he managed. “Needed to…”
She crossed over to him, and dropping one crutch, pulled him into a hug. He clung to her, the smell of smoke almost overpowering. His body convulsed as he leaned against her, huge sobs welling up and engulfing him. Tightening her grip, she held him, not sure what else she could do or say to help.
After a few minutes, he pulled back. Embarrassment flared in his cheeks. “Sorry. I didn’t know who else to go to.”
“It’s OK. Want some coffee?”
“Please.” He bent and handed her back the crutch. “Mind if I grab a quick shower?”
“Course not. It’s your house as much as mine. More so as you pay the mortgage. Your towels are still in the bathroom. I’ll go make the coffee.”
She watched him head upstairs and then went into the kitchen. What had upset him so much? She shuddered. That smell…she knew that smell.
The smoke, thick, black, pervading everything, took away her vision. Voices echoed, someone screamed. Her hand felt along the wall, trying to find a way out. The choking blackness clung and stole the air she was trying to breathe…
“Coffee smells good.”
His voice jerked her from her thoughts, and she slid the mug across to him. “Here.”
“Thank you.” He downed it like a drowning man gulps air and then refilled it. “It was a really bad day…afternoon. Huge fire…” His voice cracked and his eyes glistened. “We lost one firefighter, two more injured. Not from my watch, but another crew.”
“I’m so sorry.” She put a hand on his arm.
“It looks like arson. Just hope they catch whoever…” He covered his face with his hands, a visible struggle for control going on inside him. “And Liam rang, caught me just before I left on the shout.”
“Oh.”
“He told me…told me you were seeing someone else.”
Niamh stood there, unsure what to say or do. Before she had chance to do either, Jared’s hands gripped her arms. His face inches away from hers. Despite the anger in his eyes, she wasn’t scared. His gaze searched hers intently.
“You’re my wife.” His voice low and with a depth of emotion she hadn’t heard before.
“Jared…”
“Mine.” His lips pressed hard upon hers. She’d imagined him kissing her, trying to remember what it was like, but not like this. In her mind it had been soft and gentle, but she could feel the power of his emotions coming through. A mix of rage, grief and desperation, but beneath that something else, something far more powerful and intense.
Well, two could play that game. Not to be outdone, she dropped the crutches and kissed him back fully, one hand holding him for support, the other winding through his hair. She parted her lips, and Jared deepened the kiss, possessing her, until her head spun and her heart pounded.
11
Finally, breathless, Niamh pulled back from the kiss. Intoxicating eyes, dark with desire gazed down at her, and she found herself drowning in them. Emotion such as she never dreamed possible rippled through every inch of her, and her skin flamed under his fingers. Her hand rested on his firm chest feeling his heart beat in perfect time with her own.
“Well?” Jared’s voice was even lower than it had been before, almost husky.
“Not bad. Not quite what I imagined for a first kiss, but not bad.”
“I’m sorry.” He had the decency to go red and wiped his hand over his mouth. His lips were full and enticing and…moving. He was speaking to her again. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Well, maybe not like that, but…Jared, why are we … I mean, can’t we go out with other people as friends for lunch or whatever? I wouldn’t mind if you did.” Or would she? A surge of jealousy hit hard as she imagined Jared sitting across a table, sharing a glass of something sparkling and a candlelit dinner with another woman.
“Niamh, you’re my wife. For better and worse, legally and under God. And unless we divorce, you’ll stay that way. And a divorce isn’t going to happen.”
“I found emails about that. The separate rooms were a permanent thing?”
He jerked his head. “Yes. You were looking into selling the house as well.”
Shock flooded her and she swallowed hard. She was going to do what? “Seriously? You didn’t agree, I assume.”
“No and I still don’t. I wasn’t ready to give up on us then, and I’m not now.” He paused, his dark gaze never leaving hers. “Two weeks before the car crash we had a massive fight over going to marriage guidance counseling. I wanted to go and you didn’t.” He paused. “You came to my room to apologize and one thing led to another and we made up. I’d hoped you’d changed your mind, but it didn’t seem like it, because the following morning you were back to hating me again.”
“I see.” Heat flooded her face. Obviously if they were married, they’d had that kind of a relationship. She shivered. Technically, they were still married, and she wasn’t sure she’d be strong enough to resist if he kissed her like that again.
His hand cradled the side of her face for a moment. “I’m not saying you can’t have lunch with a friend, but I don’t want you dating anyone else.”
“I don’t want to date him. When I went into work last week, I literally bumped into him. Sent his papers flying everywhere. I recognized him as the blond haired bloke I remembered. Figured talking to him might jog my memory, but it didn’t. He’s seriously creepy actually.”
She paused. Papers flying everywhere... An image of her and Miles picking up papers while wearing robes popped into her mind. She shook her head, not wanting the feeling of panic that accompanied it. “Aside from me being your wife, does me having lunch with him really bother you that much? Should I have asked you first?”
He shook his head. “No, although you used to tell me if you were having lunch with someone—whether it was a client or a fellow lawyer. Things got messed up the last couple of years, but we have a chance here. To start over.”
She tilted her head. “Start over?”
His fingers traced gently over her hand. “Will you go out with me?”
“Go out?”
Jared sighed. “You’re not making this easy f
or me, are you? You haven’t forgotten dating, have you?”
“That’s a silly question as we were just talking about dating. So no, I haven’t forgotten. I…I’m just in shock. I’ve been really awful to you and you’re asking me out on a date.”
“I love you. I never stopped. I want to show you the man you fell in love with ten years ago. So, will you go out with me?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.” She paused. “But as friends. I mean, like you said, I don’t know you.”
Jared smiled, the smile staying on his lips as the light died in his eyes. “Friends are fine. It’s how everyone starts out. I should get back to Liam’s. Thank you for earlier. You always did know how to make me feel better.” He kissed her cheek.
“I’m glad I could help.”
“How about Saturday? The church bonfire. We could have lunch somewhere and then go to the farm from there.”
“Sounds good.” She walked with him to the door.
‘Friends’ was her idea, but why had a surge of grief pierced her soul as if she’d lost the one friend she needed the most?
****
Jared glanced down at the bag in the well of the passenger seat. Had he remembered everything that she liked? He wanted this date to be perfect. For November, the day wasn’t too cold, but whether the sun would come out from behind the dark clouds remained to be seen. He parked and took a deep breath, looking up at the house.
Help me, Lord. I want to win her back, to have her remember me. Or at least to love me again. I came so close to losing her in that car crash. And now she’s changed her attitude over the fire and Dayna’s death, does this mean that there is hope for us? I would like for that, but I put our relationship in Your hands. Work us to Your purpose and as You see fit.
Before he was even out of the car, Niamh had left the house and made her way down the path. He leaned across and opened the passenger door for her. “Hey.”
Her smile lit the enclosed space in a way that no sunshine ever could. “Hi. It’s good to see you.”
He tilted his head. “You mean it? I would have thought after the other day…”
“You were upset, and I wasn’t helping any. How are those friends from work?” She slid into the car and did up her belt.
“Doing OK. The funeral is next week, and I was wondering if you’d meet me for coffee or something after.”
“Make it tea and sure.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
Her hand touched his, her fingers brushing against the inside of his wrist briefly. “Jared…Would you like me to go with you?”
“Would you? I mean we’ll be forming a guard of honor and marching behind the fire engine…” His heart leapt at her offer. Something she used to do, work permitting. Perhaps the new Niamh was just the old one without the baggage of the last two years.
“I can save you a seat in the church…if you want me there.”
“I would. Thank you.” He leaned across and kissed her cheek, his lips burning from the quick touch.
“Welcome.”
Rain started to pound against the windscreen, and he shook his head. “Guess it’s a picnic in the car then.”
To his surprise, Niamh smiled. “Oh, we used to have those all the time when we were small. I love them.”
“Just as well, living in England. Mum always said we have cold rain in winter and warm rain in summer.”
“Mine always said we have three types of weather in this country. It’s either raining, about to rain, or just finished raining.”
He laughed and drove a few miles out of town to the edge of the Chiltern Downs. Pulling into a layby, he turned off the engine, leaving the air con on to stop the windows misting up. “Not much of a view today, I’m afraid.”
“It’s lovely. God created the rain too, you know.” She grinned at him. “So, you said something about food?”
“In the bag by your feet.”
She reached down and pulled the bag onto her lap before handing it to him. “This one?”
“Unless there are any other bags down there?”
Niamh made a show of looking. “Nope. Unless they’re invisible ones.”
He grinned. This Niamh was definitely a pleasure to have around. Long may it continue. It was like their first few dates. They’d clicked from the get go and just never looked back. He opened the bag and pulled out two plastic plates. “Okay, have one of these.”
“You brought plates?”
“Too right I did. We’re doing this properly. Plate.”
“Plate.” She balanced it on her lap.
He handed her a cup.
“Cup?” She raised an eyebrow in amazement.
He nodded. “Something wrong?”
Shaking her head, she smiled and took it. “OK, cup.”
“Now, ginger beer or lemonade?”
“Which do you want?”
“I got two of each.”
“In that case, ginger beer. I haven’t had that in ages. Patrick could never understand why they called it beer when it’s not the least bit alcoholic.”
Jared smiled and handed her the bottle. “Same reason it’s called ginger ale in Canada, but not alcoholic either. By the way the drink has to go in the cup or it’s not the same.” He laughed as she carefully poured the liquid into the cup and sipped slowly.
“Am I doing this right or do I have to hold my little finger out at the same time?”
He snorted. “Only when you’re drinking tea with the Queen.”
She tilted her head and studied him. “OK. You don’t have enough grey hair to be the Queen, so no sticking out little fingers as I drink, then.”
He shook his head. “Now I got a choice of rolls. There’s cheese salad, tuna salad, or salad salad.”
“What is salad salad when it’s at home?”
“What Mum always called a honeymoon sandwich. Lettuce alone.”
Niamh groaned. “That is terrible. Tuna, please.”
Jared handed her the roll, a scotch egg, bag of crisps, and a cake. He put a box of strawberries on the dashboard.
“Wow,” she said. “Picnics were never like this when I was a child.”
“Mum always used to do ours this way. It’s habit. You used to love them.”
“I can see why.” She picked up the scotch egg a puzzled look on her face. “What’s this?”
“It’s called a scotch egg. It’s a hardboiled egg, wrapped in sausage meat and coated with breadcrumbs before being deep fried. I introduced you to them.” He watched as she bit into it. “What do you think?”
She chewed and swallowed with a confused expression on her face before she smiled. “I remember…sitting on a bench eating them. There was a huge mountain...”
“We had them on the top of Mount Snowdon.” He smiled. “And it’s great you remembered something.”
She nodded. “Maybe other things will come back, too.”
“They will. Just give it time.” Jared turned his attention to his own plate, starting with the cake.
“Cake? You’re starting with cake?”
“I prefer to finish with something savory, so I always eat the cake first.”
“You’re weird.” She took a bite of her sandwich.
“Thank you. I think.”
They sat and ate watching the rain beat down on the windscreen, the constant drumming drowning out the sound of the radio. Lightning lit the sky. “Bit late for a storm isn’t it?” Niamh asked. “Is this going to affect the fireworks?”
Thunder echoed across the hillside. “No. Four years ago we went in an absolute downpour. So long as people turn up, they’ll light the bonfire and set off the fireworks.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Oh it was. Standing huddled under an umbrella watching the fireworks explode above our heads.”
“Wish I could remember that.”
“Tell you what. We’ll do it tonight, whether we need an umbrella or not.”
****
Niamh sat in the car on Monday and
looked out of the window. It had been a long, strange day. The doctor had reluctantly agreed to her going back to work. He’d wanted six weeks and it had only been four, but she’d promised to behave and not run down corridors or do anything strenuous and to rest if she got tired.
She’d gotten ready for work, and was about to ring a cab, when a car turned up. Alan had arranged a driver and car for her. She tried arguing with him, but he pointed out she couldn’t drive, Jared was working and under the circumstances having work provide someone was for the best.
The day itself hadn’t been too bad, despite her concerns. Toby had walked her through his current case, and she’d taken a deposition with him watching. Tomorrow she was due to take one unsupervised. Although, knowing Toby, he’d put her in the mirrored interview room and watch through the one way glass.
Miles had appeared around lunchtime and tried to insist she go and eat with him. She’d wriggled out of the invite and had spent lunch in the canteen remembering the fireworks and how good it felt being in Jared’s arms watching them explode high over their heads. She was definitely falling for this man. But was it because of the bond they obviously shared or something different this time? He’d promised to cook her dinner tonight, and she was really looking forward to spending the time with him.
The driver dropped her off, promising to be back at eight fifteen in the morning. Niamh watched him go and slowly made her way up the path. The door opened as she got there.
Jared smiled. “Hey. That’s one very expensive looking taxi.”
“Alan’s insisting on a driver.” She kissed his cheek. “How was your day?”
“Full of cats stuck up trees. Better than bonfires left unattended.” He returned the kiss. “Go and shower. Dinner won’t be long.”
“It smells wonderful. A girl could get used to this.”
After her shower, Niamh looked at herself in the mirror. There was a scar just under her hairline and a deep cut on her cheek that still refused to heal. Her leg, still encased in plaster, was most likely scarred and ugly as well. She would never have described herself as pretty from photos taken before the car crash, but now? Now she was as plain as the ace of spades.
