by Karen Clarke
He threw me a smile that revealed his strong, white teeth. ‘Like I said, let’s see how things go.’ He reached over and squeezed my knee. ‘My family are going to love you,’ he said. ‘My sister says you probably don’t deserve me, but she’s wrong.’
I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get on with his sister. ‘Seriously, I need to be back this evening.’ I stared at his smooth, pale hand and held my breath until he moved it back to the steering wheel.
‘OK, whatever.’ He shook his head indulgently, as if to say what are you like? and it hit me on some instinctive level that he’d already booked a hotel room as a ‘surprise’. My heart gave a jolt. The car felt too hot, but I didn’t fancy taking my jacket off, and tugged my dress over my knees. He kept darting looks at them, as though they were cream cakes he fancied biting into. ‘Do you mind if I turn the heating down?’
‘Actually, I do, I’m really cold.’ He grinned. ‘Joking,’ he said, and flipped the switch.
We drove along the A38 and through Buckfastleigh without speaking. Rufus switched the radio on, and cocked his head to show he was listening to the presenter, who was talking about schools in northern Nigeria sending students out to beg.
‘Maybe some music?’ I leaned forward to twiddle with the knob, hoping some Christmas tunes might lighten the mood – my mood at least – but Rufus lightly slapped my fingers away.
‘I was listening to that.’ He flashed another smile. ‘I like to broaden my mind while driving,’ he said. ‘It keeps me interesting.’
Really? I suddenly felt like saying. It’s not working.
Chastised, I sat back, feeling like someone I didn’t know in his strongly pine-scented car, clutching a gold-clasped bag that belonged to Mum. I didn’t possess a handbag. I used a small rucksack if I was carrying more than I could keep in my pockets and it felt odd, like holding a tray or a brick.
‘Any subjects I should avoid talking about at the wedding?’ I said, but the presenter had moved on to advances in molecular biology – Rufus’s area – and he held up a finger to shush me.
Resisting an urge to snap it off, I turned to look out of the window at the scenery flowing by under a snow-white sky, wishing now that I’d thrown his bouquet away, instead of putting it in a jug in Dad’s office, out of the way. The questions I’d planned to ask seemed completely inappropriate – worse, I realised I didn’t care what his favourite colour/animal/food was, or whether he wanted children, and he didn’t seem inclined to ask me anything about myself.
How would we survive a whole day together? And how would I get back if he’d been drinking and was determined to stay and ‘throw some shapes’ before luring me to his seedy hotel room? Obviously I didn’t know it would be seedy, it was just the vibe I was getting.
It was as if my true feelings had floated to the surface, perhaps jolted by the potholes in the road, or by Rufus’s close proximity; so different to being with Seth, when conversation flowed without any prompting or awkwardness.
‘You know, I never really thought that painting my feelings would work,’ Rufus said unexpectedly, turning the radio down.
‘Sorry?’
‘Last time I did it, I almost got arrested.’ His eyes were too bright – almost glassy – and I spotted a patch of stubble by his ear he must have missed while shaving. ‘Luckily, she didn’t press charges, but I still ended up moving back to Ivybridge because of her.’
‘Hang on.’ I swivelled to face him. ‘You’ve got form?’
‘Form?’ He pulled his chin back, slowing the car as we approached a set of roadwork traffic lights on red. ‘I’m not a hardened criminal.’ His glance bordered on cocky as he pulled the handbrake on and turned to shoot me a tight-lipped smile. ‘Girls like romantic gestures,’ he said. ‘You’ve proved that.’ What? ‘She just wasn’t the right girl for me.’
Girl? Ugh. ‘It wasn’t a romantic gesture, it was damage to public property,’ I said, snapping my seat belt off. ‘And I’m not the right girl for you either, Rufus, I’m sorry. I should never have agreed to come.’
‘Wait.’ His hand shot out and clamped around my wrist. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t go to the wedding with you.’
‘But, Tilly, you promised! You said your word is your bond.’
‘Rufus, be honest.’ I tried to shake him off. ‘You want me there as arm candy, to impress your bother, and to prove to his wife that you’re over her.’ I waited for him to deny it. ‘It’s not even about me.’
‘You know that I think you’re gorgeous.’ His grip tightened. ‘I’m in love with you, Tilly,’ he said through his teeth, looking anything but loving. ‘How many more ways can I say it?’
‘None.’ I finally wrenched free from his grasp and rubbed my wrist. The lights were still on red. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve misled you, Rufus, I really am, but it’s over.’ As I reached behind me to open the door I heard a thunk. ‘Did you just lock me in?’
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ Another thunk as he released the locks. ‘Please, Tilly, just come with me today and I’ll never bother you again.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Remember our lovemaking?’ His tone became pleading. ‘It was something special.’
How had I ever allowed myself to be naked with this… person? ‘For you, maybe.’
‘Look, you’re coming with me, whether you like it or not.’
‘Go to hell, Rufus.’
His hand fastened around my upper arm. ‘Don’t talk to me like that.’
I looked into his eyes. His pupils had inflated so his irises looked almost black, and my breath stuck to the back of my throat. Had I really thought he might be my first grown-up relationship? That we might have a future together? No, not really.
‘Get. Off. Me,’ I said through clenched teeth. ‘Right now, or I’ll break your balls.’
He automatically clamped his thighs together. ‘Is it to do with that man?’ he said.
‘Man?’
‘The one you hugged on the beach, after you saved his son’s life?’ His voice dripped with resentment.
‘I still can’t believe you watched all that and did nothing.’ As if a blindfold had been removed, I saw that was the moment I should have known we didn’t belong together. ‘Now, move your hand.’
‘I only asked you out to please our dads,’ he muttered, releasing his grip and dropping back in his seat. ‘You haven’t even got a proper job. And I only pretended to like Alanis Morissette. I prefer Meat Loaf.’
‘Well, I don’t like Stinking Bishop,’ I shot back. ‘I prefer cheesey triangles.’ Before he could respond, I shakily fumbled the door open and clambered out onto the road. The lights were amber, and drivers were revving their engines. I leaned down to look at him. ‘If you contact me again, in any way, I will go to the police.’ I was glad my voice sounded steady. ‘Tell your brother I’m sorry.’
I slammed the door as the traffic began to move, and hurried onto the pavement, not sure where I was going – only that I needed to be as far away as possible from Rufus Pillock.
I found a café in the little town and ordered a coffee, which I drank at a table by the steamy window, feeling the warmth seep through me as I stared through the window at a Christmas market in the square, where a small brass band was playing carols.
I didn’t feel like calling anyone, or thinking about what had just happened, and decided I might as well do some shopping since I had some time on my hands. Pushing Rufus to a distant corner of my mind, I spent an hour or so browsing the fairy-lit stalls and buying Christmas gifts – including a squeaky toy for Digby, a wooden board game for Jack, and a deep-blue hand-knitted fisherman-style sweater that I knew would look good on Seth.
Bridget and I hadn’t exchanged gifts for years, but there was a bookshop nearby, and after reading a chapter of a funny new parenting book that made me laugh out loud, I bought it for her (but kept the receipt just in case), then spotted a scarf on a stall that matched her eyes and bough
t that too.
Pleased with my haul, I drew some money from a cashpoint, and bought a bag of roast chestnuts, which I ate in a taxi on the way back to Ivybridge, and shared with the female driver as I couldn’t face making small talk.
I couldn’t face returning home either, and asked her to drop me in Seashell Cove, but felt stranded and out of place in Mum’s dress and jacket, with my hands full of bags. I was wearing tights, for god’s sake. I hadn’t worn tights since school, and the crotch had sunk almost to my knees. Suddenly, I didn’t want to go to the café, or the bakery, but unless I returned home to get my car, I couldn’t go anywhere else.
As I dithered, shivering in my unseasonal outfit, watching a jogger down on the beach, a car horn made me jump.
‘Tilly?’
I jerked round. It was Seth, looking at me through the half-lowered window of his car with a puzzled look on his face. ‘I thought you were going to a wedding.’
‘I was.’ I shook my hair out of my watering eyes. ‘I changed my mind.’
He leaned over to open the passenger door. ‘Get in,’ he said, and for the second time that day, I found myself getting into a car with a man.
Only this time, I wanted to be there.
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘I thought your mum was coming over,’ I said, relaxing in the warmth of the car.
‘She’s on her way,’ said Seth. ‘I thought I’d take Jack swimming first.’
‘Good idea.’ He was in the back, white headphones over his damp hair, holding his iPad. ‘Hi, Jack,’ I mouthed.
He gave me a wave and I waved back, overcome at the sight of his friendly face. ‘I’d really like to go to that pantomime, sometime,’ I said impulsively.
‘It’s on until January, I checked.’ Seth’s gaze was steady. ‘What happened?’
I glanced back at Jack, his feet dancing up and down in their blue and white trainers as he lifted his head to gaze out of the window.
‘It’s OK, he’s listening to music.’ Seth gave me a heartfelt smile that I had to look away from. I was teetering on the verge of crying. ‘I’ve introduced him to Bruce Springsteen and he seems to like it.’
I cleared my throat. ‘Good choice.’
‘You look… nice.’ His eyes swept over me.
‘I look ridiculous.’
‘Tilly!’ He scanned my face, as if checking I was being serious. ‘You couldn’t look ridiculous if you tried.’
‘You don’t have to keep this up you know.’
‘Keep what up?’
‘Saying nice things, being complimentary, saying I’m amazing and so forth.’ I shoved my handbag in the footwell with the rest of my bags. The clasp wasn’t closed and Bridget’s lipstick rolled out. ‘You’re not obliged to be nice to me, Seth.’ He glanced at me again in astonishment. ‘And you should keep your eyes on the road.’
‘I’m only doing twenty miles an hour, and there’s no one else around,’ he said. ‘Tilly, I’m not saying things just to be nice, why would I?’
‘You know why.’ I tipped my head back at Jack. ‘I’m happy to help out, if that’s what I’m doing, while your mum’s here. You don’t have to flatter me all the time.’
‘Flatter you?’ His lips twitched. ‘I didn’t realise that’s what I was doing,’ he said. ‘Look, I know we met under unusual circumstances, but even if I’d met you some other way, I’d still like you, Tilly.’
Great. Now he was being kind because I was coming across as insecure and needy – two things no one had ever accused me of being.
‘If we’d met any other way, you wouldn’t have looked at me twice,’ I said, unable to stop myself. ‘I’m hardly your type.’ Brilliant. Now it sounded as if I wanted to be.
‘I don’t have a type of female I want to be friends with,’ he said. ‘And I’d like to think that’s what we are now.’
Friends. Of course we could be friends. What was wrong with being friends? Especially as he was seeing my sister and might marry her one day. We’d be practically related if he did.
‘Sorry,’ I said, on a wave of exhaustion. ‘I’ve had a really weird morning.’
‘So, tell me about it.’
Checking once more that Jack was absorbed by The Boss, I gave Seth a rundown, surprised to see his hands tighten around the steering wheel when I mentioned Rufus grabbing my arm.
‘Christ, Tilly, he sounds like a total creep.’
‘He is,’ I said, admitting it for the first time. ‘I don’t understand why my dad thought we’d be good together – or why I did, to be honest.’
‘I’m sure he wouldn’t have if he’d known what this bloke was really like.’ Seth parked outside the cottage and switched the car engine off. ‘He definitely wouldn’t want you to keep seeing him.’
‘I’d had some doubts,’ I confessed. ‘But Bridget was impressed I was in a “grown-up relationship”,’ I scraped quote marks, ‘and I convinced myself it was normal to not be sure, because I hadn’t been seeing him for long enough to really know.’ I released a sigh, realising how lame it sounded. ‘That’s why I agreed to go to his brother’s wedding, to get to know Rufus better.’ I checked Seth’s reaction, and saw him listening intently. ‘Not that I’m blaming my sister.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m an idiot,’ I said. ‘I convinced myself I just needed to try harder to like him.’
Seth surprised me by saying, ‘We’ve all been there.’ He pulled the key out of the ignition and tapped his knee with it. ‘I kept telling myself I should marry Gina, because on the surface she was everything a man could want, but my gut kept saying she wasn’t the one for me.’ He lightly touched my sleeve. ‘I know you spoke to her the other night, by the way.’
My head whipped up. ‘You saw my note?’ I’d completely forgotten to mention it.
He nodded. ‘If I’d known she just wanted closure, I’d have called her,’ he said, a regretful twist to his lips. ‘I’m sorry you had to deal with it.’
‘I didn’t have to,’ I said. ‘She sounded nice.’ I wasn’t sure nice was the right word, and judging by the look Seth gave me, he wasn’t convinced either. ‘How did she know you were out with Bridget?’ I said.
‘She didn’t.’
‘A good mamma for Jack?’
He shook his head, a smile still hovering. ‘She obviously meant you.’
My face began to burn. ‘Are you going to make me a cup of tea before your mother arrives?’ I flung open the car door and got out, welcoming a shot of cold air to my face.
‘My pleasure,’ he said.
Jack tugged his headphones off and raced inside to greet an ecstatic Digby, who’d brushed against wet paint judging by the badger-like stripe down one side of his fur.
‘You leave your front door unlocked?’
‘The team are still here,’ said Seth, as I followed him inside. ‘I decided to leave them to it for a couple of hours.’
Sure enough there was the sound of a ladder clattering upstairs, followed by a shout of, ‘Watch what you’re doing, Mick, or you’ll have me over the banister.’
Seth bent to remove his boots, pretending to shield his eyes from the swirly-patterned carpet. ‘They’ve got a mate in doing some rewiring, then there’s just the hall to do and they’ll be out of here by Christmas Eve.’
‘What about your lovely bathroom?’
He grinned as he hung up his parka. ‘That’s a job for next year,’ he said. ‘Regardless of what my mother thinks.’
I hoped he’d let me design it, but it didn’t feel like the right time to ask.
‘Dad, can I have something to eat?’ Seth flattened himself to the wall as Jack pelted past after Digby, who was carrying a half-shredded ball in his mouth.
‘There’s some vegetable lasagne leftover from last night.’
Jack nodded as he chased Digby back into the living room.
‘Vegetable lasagne,’ I said, slipping off Mum’s jacket, which was too tight around my armpits. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘I was surprised he l
iked it.’ As he took in the sight of me, head to toe, I wished my tights would evaporate, or at least transform into something fleecy. Mum’s dress had long sleeves, and the cottage was warm, but my body temperature had dipped.
‘Here.’ Seth unzipped his thick black woollen cardigan and handed it to me. ‘Put it on,’ he ordered.
I gratefully pushed my arms in the sleeves and zipped it up to my chin. ‘This is getting to be a habit.’
‘It suits you.’ He nodded his approval. ‘You don’t want to catch a cold right before Christmas.’
‘Not when I’ve still got work to do at the café,’ I said, feeling like myself for the first time all day – including the bit that was worried that work was at a standstill. ‘Now, where’s that cup of tea?’
In the end, Seth warmed up the vegetable lasagne in the microwave, and the three of us ate at the kitchen table, while Digby chewed his rubber bone on the mat in front of the fireplace. It was an oddly domestic scene, and when Felicity appeared in the doorway, her face registered horrified surprise – as if she’d stumbled across a vicious crime scene.
‘Well, isn’t this cosy?’
‘Hello, Mother.’ Seth made an effort to sound welcoming, but looked resigned.
‘Hello, Grandma.’ Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, which drew a frown as Felicity put down her leather bag, unwound her tartan scarf and unfastened what looked like a shooting jacket.
‘Napkin, Jack,’ she scolded.
‘We haven’t got any.’ Seth handed Jack a sheet of kitchen roll, which he scrunched up and put on his plate.
‘Hello, Felicity,’ I said in a friendly manner. ‘Would you like something to eat?’
She looked at me as though I’d offered to trim her toenails. ‘Is it your place to ask?’
‘It’s the servant’s day off,’ I couldn’t resist saying, and Seth pressed a hand to his mouth to hide a smile.
‘What’s a servant?’ Jack enquired.
