18. Scarlett
Seeing Jamie freak out like that was horrible.
His fear had been palpable.
Watching the shame that overtook his fear was heart-breaking.
Seeing Tom killed and all the other horrors he’s no doubt witnessed has really affected him more deeply than any of us could ever imagine.
The half hour train journey home has been almost in silence.
He refused to have a seat on the train, instead insisting he stand by the door.
Of course, I couldn’t leave him alone there so stood with him the whole time.
As we finally pull into the station everyone makes a dash for the door, ready to be off the train to go about their day.
As we wait for the doors to open some random guy manages to bump into me, pushing me into Jamie’s arms.
It was an accident but Jamie didn’t see it like that. “Oi, dickhead. Step the fuck away from her.”
Jamie snarls as he pulls me in even more tightly.
His protective nature turning a little ugly.
The guy holds his hands up in apology, obviously not wishing to insight any further anger.
“Hey,”
I lift on tiptoes to speak directly to Jamie.
“I’m fine, it was an accident.”
Jamie lowers his arms from around me, instead grasping my hand tightly in his as he leads me off the train and out of the station.
The taxi ride from the station back to Jamie’s is just as tense as the train journey, only difference is that he doesn’t let go of my hand for a second.
Not even when he paid the fare.
As he opens the front door I hesitate for a moment.
“I think I’m gonna head home, give you a little space.
You must be fed up of me by now,”
trying to make light of the situation, I giggle a little.
“Don’t leave, not yet. Please,”
his dark eyes narrow as he speaks.
“We’ve got Greggs and Mum’s shit coffee.
Just stay for a bit,”
his grip tightens on my hand, leaving me no option but to agree and follow him into the kitchen.
After making sure I’m sat safely on the barstool, he flicks the kettle on and grabs a couple of plates from where they are drying on the rack.
“You want tea or coffee?”
When I don’t answer instantly, he spins around and almost shouts my name.
“Scar! Tea or coffee?”
“Oh, sorry.
I’ll have tea, please,”
feeling a little helpless in the moment.
A few days ago, he really seemed to be on the mend, I thought I was getting my Jay back but today has cemented the fact that this is going to take months.
Examining the chicken slice, I’d bought earlier, I pick at the pastry, popping tiny pieces into my mouth.
Somehow, my appetite has disappeared in the short time it has taken us to get home.
I shove it back into the paper bag and wait for my tea instead.
“I’m sorry I lost it back there; I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Jamie sits beside me, nursing his cup as though his life depends on it.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.
I’d never scare you intentionally, you know that, don’t you?”
he turns to face me, studying me with an intensity I’ve never seen in him before.
His hand rests on my thigh, fingers gripping me tightly.
I lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder.
He drops a kiss on the top of my head before he continues.
“I’d never let any harm come to you.”
“Jay, you didn’t scare me.
I never feel as safe as when I’m around you.
Considering all that you…we’ve been through recently you have every right to react the way you did today,”
I lift my head to meet his gaze.
Our faces merely inches apart.
“I trust you; I always have done.”
In a flash his lips are on mine, preventing me from saying any more.
His mouth moulded to mine as he takes my breath away.
This isn’t any kind of kiss we’ve shared before, this is sensual, loving and gentle.
I can’t pull away from him, in fact I have to resist the urge to fall deeper into him.
Jamie pulls away first, “Shit, I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean for that to happen…”
he runs his hands over his flushed face as he breathes out heavily. “Scar…”
he turns to me, full of remorse and angst.
Before he has time to finish his sentence I launch at him.
My hands diving into his thick dark hair as I pull him back towards me.
“Shut up, Jay,”
My mouth takes his quickly, sucking on his lip as I alternate between nibbling and kissing him.
My tongue runs along the seam of his lips, begging for entry.
I’ve been kissed before by men who had absolutely no clue what they were doing, either that or they saw kissing as a means to a happy ending.
But this is different.
This feels like so much more.
Jamie responds eagerly, pulling me in tightly as his hands splay firmly across my back.
The warmth radiating through my body, sending my tummy into a whirl.
I need to be nearer to him, I want our bodies melded together.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I further deepen the kiss, trying to convey everything.
Finally, we break apart, breathless as I right myself on the barstool. Just as I’d regained composure, Pat burst in from the garden.
“Hello you two! Didn’t know you were back, I’ve been chatting with Joan next door, she’s been telling me all about her daughter moving to Australia with her new husband,”
Pat busies herself arranging the flowers she’d picked from the garden into a vase beside the sink.
“She’s devastated, poor woman.
She’s convinced herself she’ll never see them again.
I was telling her that in this day and age, Australia isn’t that far away and there’s the internet.
I tried to explain Zoom to her but I’m not quite sure she understood,”
Pat chuckles as she turns around to face us finally.
Both of us now have our smug faces buried into the pasties we’d brought back with us.
“Jamie! I’ve made lasagne for tea, you won’t want any if you eat that now,”
Pat tuts loudly as she picks up the vase of flowers and takes them into the lounge.
Jamie and I exchange cheeky glances, him winking at me as I blush a crimson colour.
“I’ll freeze it, I’ll have a sandwich instead.”
Pat blusters back into the kitchen.
“What are you two giggling about? How did your session go?”
The woman barely stops for breath.
“I’ll eat the lasagne! Just give it an hour, stop fretting.”
Jamie chortles.
“The session was okay; I’m booked in for next week.
Scarlett can stay for dinner, too,”
he turned to face me.
“Do you fancy lasagne?”
The flush rises from my chest and covers my cheeks again.
God only knows why, I’ve spent countless hours in this kitchen, eating with my second family.
“Actually, my mum’s cooked so I best be making a move,”
I slide off the barstool but not before I’ve planted a more innocent kiss on Jamie’s cheek.
“Thanks for the invite, though.
I’ll call you tomorrow,”
without a second glance, because I absolutely dare not look at either one of them for fear they could see right through me, I make my way to the front door and head home.