Chapter 10 #2
His laughter follows me, and I can’t help my smile.
It fades away as I look up and straight into Jez’s eyes.
He’s watching us with no expression on his face at all.
I swallow hard, frantically replaying the last few minutes.
The trouble is that when I’m with Xavier, the rest of the world seems to fall away.
Jez’s face remains a blank mask as I walk towards him, but I tell myself he saw nothing.
Just two people chatting while they get breakfast.
I set my plate down. “You alright?” I ask as Xavier comes up next to me and slides into the seat opposite Jez.
A tremor crosses that blank expression, but then Jez shakes his head as if clearing away a bug. “Fine,” he says slowly. He turns to Xavier. “I was thinking of walking some of the Cotswold Way today. Do you fancy it?”
Xavier studies him for a slightly too-long moment. His eyes flick to me and then back to Jez. “That sounds wonderful,” he says in an enthusiastic voice, and Jez relaxes, relenting under that beam of Xavier’s which is wide and warm.
“Great. That’s great.”
They both look to me as if seeking approval, and I smile widely. “That’s a wonderful idea,” I say heartily. Jez looks relieved and turns to summon the waitress.
Xavier leans in. “Rein in the enthusiasm,” he advises me. “You’re currently at ‘Kate Middleton at a garden show’ level.”
Jez turns back. “So are you packed?” he asks me. “We can leave the cases with the hotel and get back on the road when we come back from walking. You can sleep in your own bed for a few days before the funeral.”
Xavier has gone very still, and his attention feels like a hot brand on the side of my head.
I feel a wave of dizziness at the thought of going back to my empty flat that’s waiting for me.
It’s never been a home—just a place where I stay while I wait to go back into the field.
I have very few personal possessions because I make myself travel light.
The idea of returning to that bleakness after I’ve been with Xavier is suddenly awful.
It will be like leaving a sun-filled land and entering a dark valley.
I’m filled with a sudden fierce panic which probably explains why I open my mouth and blurt out in a far too loud voice, “I’m staying until after the funeral.”
Xavier jerks and promptly spills his drink, and Jez’s eyes widen. “What?” he gasps.
I don’t blame him for his surprise. I feel the same way. I’m resolutely not looking at Xavier because all I want to do is beg him to stay too, to give me a few more days of sunshine.
I make myself shrug. “Here is as good as anywhere for hanging out while we wait for the funeral. I’ve got friends who live a few miles away, and I’d like time to get outside. The fresh air might do me some good.”
Jez studies me and then surprises me by saying simply, “Do you want company while you stay here?” My heart clenches because for a moment, he’s my old friend again.
I nod immediately. “That would be great. It’s only a few days until the funeral. Not worth it to go home. If the hotel can’t fit me in, I’ll find somewhere else.” I hesitate. “And maybe Xavier could stay too? You two can really get to know each other.”
I don’t think I’ve ever been more ashamed of myself, but if I can get these two to have some sort of functional relationship, maybe the universe will balance out what I’ve just done.
Something good will come out of my temporary loss of sanity, and hopefully, no one will suffer.
I look down at the table at Xavier’s hand resting near my arm and feel a deep throb of yearning for it to touch me.
God, I fucking hope this insanity is temporary.
Jez clears his throat. “Then I’ll stay. I’ve got an appointment with my publishers in London, but I can catch the train back for that. What about you, Xavier?”
I see Xavier shrug his shoulders in my peripheral vision. “I could stay too,” he says casually.
I sag as I feel a wave of immediate relief washing over me.
“No boyfriend to get back to?” Jez asks.
I look up. It’s actually the first time he’s asked anything about Xavier, so that’s a good sign. However, Xavier doesn’t look happy with the development. “Nope,” he drawls. “I’ve got my eye on someone, but he’s not coming round very quickly.”
Rather than answering him, Jez stares at him as intently as if he’s itemising every inch of his face.
Then he nods. “So that’s decided. We’ll stay until the funeral.
” He looks directly at me. “But then we have to go regardless of all the background noise. I booked our flights for the day after the funeral. The arrangements have all been made.”
I nod. I feel like I just made a Faustian bargain. For a second, I’m off balance as if the earth rumbled a warning and moved under my feet.
He gets up, palming his phone. “I’ve got to make a couple of calls. Shall we meet in an hour?”
I nod, and he walks away, leaving a taut silence. Finally, Xavier stirs.
“Is there any hope you’ll leave this alone and not make a comment?” I ask.
He snorts. “Have you actually met me?” I can’t help my smile, and he leans closer. “I’m pretty sure you made this decision because you’re drawn like a magnet to my undeniable charms.”
“I don’t know about that. They are fairly deniable.”
His voice goes suddenly soft. “I want to stay with you too. And I want you to know that I’ve taken your suggestion seriously about getting to know Jez better. I made you a promise and I don’t break my word. Especially not to you, Reuben.”
I’m unexpectedly touched. Touched and terrified. It’s a nauseating mixture. “Thank you,” I say softly. “I’m not saying to forgive him. That’s not for me to decide. Just try and get to know him so you’ll have no regrets.”
He studies my face and then winks. “And obviously I can get to know you too.” He leans even closer so I feel his breath on my neck.
“Biblically,” he intones. I can’t help my laugh, and he sits back, looking pleased with himself.
“I’m going to ring my grandmother to tell her about the change of plans.
” I nod and he reaches into his pocket, producing a folded sheet of paper.
“Made this for you,” he says casually and then saunters away.
I regard the paper cautiously, as though it’s an unexploded bomb, then huff and unfold it. The paper opens, and I make a sound that combines surprise and delight.
He’s drawn a caricature of me. It’s absolutely brilliant.
The strokes are sure and deft, and he’s captured me perfectly.
I’m frowning into the distance, and around me are arrows pointing to various parts of my body with pithy slogans next to them.
Brooding activated, one arrow says. Shaggy hair for maximum Heathcliff effect (minus the moors), says another.
And there’s more—Long nose for sniffing out feta omelettes and trouble, and Fit legs for running away from Xavier.
I smooth out the paper. He has a great deal of talent concealed behind that lazy charm. I wonder what else he’s hiding.