by Mia Madison
But despite everything, on my way home I realize I want Amy, even though I expect she doesn't want me now. She probably thinks I'm hard-hearted and insensitive, no better than the guys at school. I'd still like to punch that fucker who spread rumors about her. I call her when I get home. But she doesn't pick up her phone. Maybe she's at work. I imagine her phone ringing in her locker.
I wait until I think she might be home, if she was at work when I called, and I go around to Holburn Crescent—without the fire truck this time.
Mrs. Jenkins is in her garden, next door to Amy's house.
“Hey,” she says. “Just the guy.”
I look up at the tree. “Has your cat got himself stuck again?”
“No, not today. Toby learned his lesson. It was about time. That's four times he's been stuck.”
I glance over at Amy's house. There's no sign of anyone there.
“Amy's not here,” she says, eyeing me suspiciously. “She's been going around with her face as long as a fiddle. And it seems to me you might have something to do with that, if you're the guy she's been dating.”
“I doubt she cares enough about me for that to be my fault,” I say.
She raises her eyebrows at me.
“You think it's my fault?”
“Fault? Fiddlesticks. Who cares about whose fault it is? It's Toby fault he keeps climbing trees, but I have to get him down. Maybe something scared him up there, but the result is the same.”
She looks at me as if making sure I’m listening. I get the feeling I’d get a rap on my knuckles if I wasn’t paying attention.
She continues. “Doesn't really matter what the cause was—why he climbed the tree. I can still fix it, so I do. Whatever scared him might have been all in his head, but it was still real enough to him to have run up there as if his life depended on it. Same with your mother.”
“My mother? What has Amy been saying?”
“Not much. She asked my advice. She always comes around here when she needs to talk. She always has. She cares about people, that one. Hates to see them falling out if there's no need. Anyway, her dad is distraught just now because she's got it into her head to go nursing in New Zealand.”
“New Zealand? Is she serious?”
“Seems like she is, this time. She's always talked about going over there as an agency nurse. She had plans, but none of us thought she would do it. I don't know why anyone would want to go and live on the other side of the world when there's nothing wrong with this side. I'll miss her when she goes.”
“When is she planning on going?”
“She said November. She just needs to get all the paperwork sorted out.”
“But she never said anything about that to me.”
“It was a kind of ‘maybe someday’ plan that suddenly became a ‘this November’ plan. I don't know if that has anything to do with you, but you've got a lot to answer for if it was.” She looks at me sharply.
“Me? I don't think so. I only just met her.” But I feel myself faltering under Mrs. Jenkins' scrutiny. “Unless…”
“Unless?” she encourages. I don't know why I'm taking to her about it. I should be talking to Amy.
“Unless?” she repeats.
“Unless I upset her by freezing her out after she tried to talk to me about my mother.”
“It sounds like you should do less freezing people out and more listening.”
I want to tell the old woman she's wrong, and that Amy's wrong about my mother, but maybe there's something in her cat story. Sometimes you just have to get the cat down, whatever the reason it took flight.
“You know, Amy lost her own mother when she was eleven. She would do anything to be able to talk to her now. Maybe that's why this upsets her so much. I don't think she'd be planning to go to New Zealand if her dad was on his own, but he's happily settled again now. Amy never said this, but maybe she thinks there's nothing to keep her here now.”
She's wrong about that, too, but I've been fucking useless at showing her. I just hope she hasn't made any drastic decisions because of me.
CHAPTER 24
Amy
The information from the New Zealand agency came in the mail today, so I have to speak to Sandra.
“You're not going to do it? You're always talking about it but I thought it was just an idea,” she says. “I'd hate it if you went.”
“It won't be forever. I'm only applying for a five-year visa.”
“Five years! Oh, Amy. You're running away!”
“I'm not. I always thought it would be a great place to work. The pay is much better than here and it's beautiful over there.”
“But you love your job in the hospital.”
It's true. I do. “Maybe I just need a change.”
“A change from your family and friends.”
“No. Never that.”
“A change from yourself.”
“You're psychoanalyzing me again. Will you stop already?”
“Wherever you go, you'll still be you. You can't run away from that. Not that you need to. You're fine just as you are. Just because it didn't work out with one guy doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you. It sounds to me like there's something wrong with him.”
“It's not just one guy, it's every guy. They're all the same. Maybe New Zealanders will be different.”
“You really think that?”
I grin at her. “Actually, no. That's unlikely. Guys are guys. They'll be just the same but with a cuter accent.”
*
I have to get to work then, so I give Sandra a hug and get in my car. I'm still thinking about what she said when I go for my afternoon break in the reception area and bump into Mrs. Kendall with a huge bunch of flowers.
“These are for you, to thank you,” she says handing me the flowers.
“Thank you and you're welcome, but I didn't do anything special.”
“Well, actually you did. Have you got a moment to talk?”
We find a quiet corner of the cafe.
“Ronan told me he took you out and you told him to listen to me.”
“Yes, but I think it fell on deaf ears. He was annoyed at me for interfering.”
“Maybe at first, but he called me earlier today and took me for lunch.”
“Really?”
“I told him everything. Well, not exactly everything. Not the worst things his dad did to me. I didn't want to completely wreck his boyhood memories, but enough that he understood why I had to go and why I thought it was better that he stay with his father who loved him so much. I thought he'd have a better, more stable life with him, but I didn't expect my husband to cut off all ties and poison Ronan against me. I thought I'd be able to pick back up with him after I was settled.”
“You know, a court might have granted you custody or access.”
“Yes, that's true, but that would have meant fighting Derek, Ronan's father, and everything coming out, doing just as much harm.”
“So now Ronan's accepted what happened? Has he forgiven you?”
“I think so. It's early days, but I think we'll be okay.”
I give her a hug. My break is over; I have to get back to the ward.
Even if interfering cost me, I'm pleased I did it. I just wish they had never become estranged and I still had Ronan. New Zealand was always my plan, but five years so far from home? What was I thinking? Sandra's right. Everything about my life here is good apart from my love life. Am I really running away because of one guy? But I can't live the rest of my life like this. Nothing changing.
I finish my shift and gather up my bouquet to go home.
Ronan is waiting for me at the entrance of the hospital.
“Who's been buying you flowers?” he asks, before he even says hello.
CHAPTER 25
Ronan
I shouldn't have said that. She gives me a filthy look and flounces past me.
“I'm sorry, Amy.” I run after her, and she turns around, her eyes blazing. “You deserve a
whole florist of flowers.”
“Your mother brought them.”
“Did she tell you we talked? She explained everything. I should have listened years ago.”
“Yes, you should have.”
“It's hard to believe Dad was like that with her, but when I think about it, what she said could easily have been true. I didn't think anything was wrong. They never fought.”
“Sandra says you only fight if you care.”
“True enough. We’ve fought plenty, you and I. I'm not surprised Sandra would have a view on it. I'm dying to meet your friend, though I can't say I'm not scared at the idea.”
She laughs. “Be prepared to be scrutinized if you do.”
“Please tell me you're not going to New Zealand. I just found you. I don't want to lose you.”
“Who told you I was going?”
“Your next door neighbor.”
“Oh, Mrs. Jenkins. Yes. I applied for my visa.”
It's like a punch in the gut. “You talked about trips you'd like to take some day. I didn't think you were that serious. I didn't think you meant now.”
“I wasn't serious, and then suddenly I was. I needed a change of scene.”
“Drastic. You could have just gone to Blackpool.”
“Not far enough.”
“Littlehampton would be too far for you to go, if I have any say in it.”
“That's only five miles away.”
“Exactly.”
“I go there all the time for shopping.”
“I can live with that, if you don't go all Antipodean on me and disappear to the other side of the globe.”
I want to hold her and never let her go.
“I'd better get home,” she says. “I have a lot to do.”
“Come to dinner with me.”
“I don't know. Is there any point now? I won't be here in a couple of months.”
“How can I persuade you to stay if you won't see me?”
“I expect you'll get over it. You managed to give me up pretty easily a few days ago.”
“I thought you were different. You made me different. I want to be with you.”
“You hurt me, Ronan. One minute you were saying I was different, the next you were walking away.”
“I'm sorry I was stubborn about my mother.”
“I'm sorry too. Look, I have to go.”
And she walks out of my life. Just like my mother did. But I won't make the mistake of just accepting it this time. Not if I can help it.
CHAPTER 26
Amy
I find my car and sit in the driving seat and burst into tears. I cry because I think I made a big mistake. I cry because I'm going to New Zealand and I don't even know why I'm going.
I drive away, and then I have to stop the car on the way home because I start crying again. So I sit and wallow in misery for a while while the traffic whizzes past and no one can see me or ask me what's wrong. I sit where I can just wish everything didn't have to go so wrong when it could have been so right.
But in the end, crying changes nothing. I am still in exactly the same situation as I was when I stopped the car, but now I probably look like a total freak from all the tears, too. I dry my eyes, blow my nose and tidy myself up. I don't want to frighten Dad and Grace. And I get on my way, because what else is there to do?
By the time I get home, it's a little later than usual, but the long days of August mean it's not dark yet. I don't want to have to talk to my family. I'm hoping I can say “Hello” and sneak into my room like a wayward teenager.
But there's a commotion at Mrs. Jenkins’. She's in the front garden with a few neighborhood kids gathered around her, their bikes sprawled on her lawn. They are all looking up at the tree in front of her house. I get out of my car and wander over.
“I can't get him to come down,” she says. Not this again! I look up into the tree, expecting to see the ginger fur of her frightened cat, but there's only Ronan there, half-hidden by the leafy branches, looking down at me. I catch Toby sitting in Mrs. Jenkin's open doorway, looking out as smugly as only a well-fed house cat can.
My heart skips a beat. “What are you doing up there?”
“Waiting for someone to tempt me down,” he says. “I won't come down for anything less than another chance.”
“Not a can of tuna?” I say. “Won't that do?”
“That won't do at all. A tuna club mayo sandwich with the right girl, maybe. But that's my final offer.”
“I guess it will have to be another chance then,” I say. “I've never liked tuna.”
He climbs down from the tree like he's been climbing up and down the things all this life. “Sorry, for using your tree, Mrs. Jenkins.” he says.
“My pleasure. Anytime.” And she winks at him.
The kids start to gather their bikes and go off on their way, excitement over.
“I hope you haven't had dinner yet,” he says. “Because I'd like to take you out. It doesn't have to be tuna.”
I start pulling twigs out where they have become caught up in his hair.
“I'd love that,” I say. “But I'd like it even better if you took me home with you.”
“Come on, Toby,” I hear Mrs. Jenkins say. “Salmon for tea tonight. I think a celebration is in order.”
CHAPTER 27
Ronan
I don't even get as far as cooking anything. I was going to offer Amy something good I could rustle up quickly, maybe pasta, but after we get inside and I kiss her, she starts to undo my shirt, making it clear she didn't come to my place for food.
“I think I'd better check you over,” she says. “Make sure you didn't injure yourself from climbing that tree.”
“Vicious things, trees.” But she doesn't get my shirt off before I distract her with another kiss, my lips brushing the lobe of her ear and the side of her neck. My hands cup her breasts. “I’d like to check you out first, though.”
My thumbs flick across her nipples and they harden instantly to my touch right through her blouse and bra. “Good reflexes as usual, Miss Robinson.”
She laughs and runs her fingers over the front of my jeans. “There’s nothing wrong with yours either.”
“I just have to run a few more tests,” I say. “But not here.” I pick her up and carry her into the bedroom.
“What tests?” she asks. She seems to love me talking dirty to her. I put her down on the bed and sit beside her.
“I’m going to see what happens when I kiss you right here.” I run one finger between her legs beneath her skirt and she squirms at my touch.
“Just a kiss?” she says.
“A kiss is only one of many tests.” I start to warm to the theme. “Unbutton your blouse. How can I see what’s going on if you’re all covered up like that?”
She complies, looking me in the eye, her cheeks flushed pink.
“This has to come right off too.” I unfasten her bra, pull it off and her breasts spring free. “Just as I suspected. Fucking beautiful and already hard.” I run my finger over one puffy, engorged nipple. “What’s going to happen when I take one of these into my warm mouth and lick it, suck it, bite it? Is it going to make you moan?”
Her breath quickens at my words.
“Up you get. Take off your skirt.” This is the first time I’ve tried to dominate her, but I have a feeling she’ll respond well to that.
Her eyes are wide, but she gets off the bed and unzips her skirt, leaving it in a pool at her feet. Her chest is heaving, causing her breasts to bounce slightly. I let out a growl of pleasure at the sight.
“After I yank down your panties, I’m going to test you with my fingers, taste you. I need to work out how wet you already are so I can see what makes you hotter, wetter, what makes you open your legs and beg to be fucked.”
“You already have a good idea of that,” she says, giggling, kneeling back on the bed beside me, her naked breasts jiggling even closer. I stick out my tongue and lick one tempting nipple.
; “I have lots of good ideas. And they all center around you naked and squirming on my bed, my mouth on your pussy, licking, sucking, so you can’t keep still, each stroke of my tongue making you dizzy with excitement. Maybe I need to make sure you don’t roll off the bed and injure yourself.”
“You can’t be too careful.” She looks at me, a challenge in her eyes.
“Right then.” I open a drawer in my dresser and grab a couple of neckties.
When I return, she runs her fingers over my cock. “The idea of tying me up is making you hard.”
“The thought of doing anything with you makes me hard,” I say. “But yes, I like the idea of you spread out naked on my bed so you can’t escape, your hands tied together and you begging for mercy as I lap at your folds and enter you hard and deep with my tongue, with my cock.”
She bites her lip at that and instantly holds out her hands ready to be bound. I wrap a tie around them and gently pull her arms over her head, laying her back on the bed. I missed a trick when I bought this bed with no posts. “Put your arms up above your head and keep them there or I’ll have to spank you again,” I tell her.
She gasps and holds onto the pillow with her fingers. I get between her thighs, opening them wide to my gaze. “I can see you’re soaking wet already. Maybe I don’t have to test you.”
“I think you had better test me anyway,” she says, demurely. “Looks can be deceiving.”
“Can they now?” I run my fingers over her slit and she sucks in a breath. “Not in this case. But I’d better check you out with my tongue just to be sure.”
I flick the tip of my tongue over her clit and she just about convulses right then. “Sensitive area?” I ask, my face the picture of innocence. “Maybe you need a break from the tests.”
“No, no break,” she says and reaches out with her bound hands to guide my head back down, arching her hips toward my mouth.
“You moved your hands,” I say. “Did you do that deliberately?”
She looks up and grins. “I might have.”
