Chapter Twenty-Four
Oliver
April
A brisk spring breeze touched Oliver’s face as he stepped out of his car. Daffodils danced on the neatly mowed lawns on the Fairways Estate. Glenbriar hadn’t changed much during his three-month absence in London, but he had. Previously, coming home to this house had never felt either good or bad, just something that happened every day. Seeing it now, though, gave him a tickling sensation in his gut. Not a nasty feeling, but not a completely positive one either. Something was missing. How often had that been the case in his life, no matter where he was or what he was doing?
He strolled up the path to his front door, glancing around. His apartment in Ruislip was pleasant enough and reasonably peaceful compared to the constant hum of the city, but it couldn’t compare to this. Granted, the twittering birds and low buzz of a lawnmower were similar to the suburbs, but everything was more open and free. The distant clunk of someone teeing off on the golf course was so familiar. Oliver recalled coming back from work on summer evenings and sitting with the French doors open, reading or eating his dinner with that sound in the background.
Inserting the key into the lock, he pushed open the door. The house was cool as he’d set the heating to auto and it only came on low to stop the freezing, but once he put the burner on, it would quickly warm up. His furniture looked so comfy and familiar. It would be nice to sleep in his own bed again. Finlay had obviously been around and mown the lawn ready for his arrival and someone had put a vase of flowers on the dining room table. That definitely wasn’t Finlay – probably Genevieve, though he wouldn’t rule out Hayley. She didn’t have a key, but she could have borrowed the spare from her brother.
He moved to the window, drinking in the view of rolling hills. His body was tense, like it had been chained for weeks and he wanted to unshackle himself and run free in the countryside. Raising his arms above his head, he linked his hands together and stretched high. The day had made him travel weary, but restless energy still bounded around his veins. Tomorrow he’d dust off the bike and go cycling.
He fired off a quick message to the wedding group chat to let everyone know he’d arrived, making it quite clear he was knackered just in case they decided to all call around. Both Finlay and Hayley were so affectionate and caring he could imagine them racing around to check he was ok. All he wanted was to prevent them from worrying. They could relax. He was here and wasn’t going to miss the wedding. Despite his boss thinking it was excessive, Oliver had taken a full week off. He owed that and more to Finlay. With the wedding on Saturday, two days away, he’d make it to the rehearsal and be at home so Finlay could stay over the night before the wedding and keep alive the tradition of not seeing the bride before the wedding.
The house took a while to heat up and Oliver overrode the thermostat to make sure the radiators in his bedroom and the en suite were warm. He didn’t mind a cold pillow, but he hated cold air after a shower and when getting ready for bed. His father’s farmhouse had been like that when he was growing up. Some mornings he could hardly bear getting out from under his covers. He shivered at the memory.
He only had his small case with him, as he’d left a lot of clothes here. He took out his kilt from the wardrobe and hung it on the door to make sure it was aired. If it was a dry day tomorrow, he might even put it outside for a bit. His mum always said even if you could get the washing outside for a short while, it helped and made it smell better. He recalled finding socks and pairing them up at the kitchen table as she chatted to him. She may have been gone, but he still followed her advice when he could – the bits he remembered anyway. What would she make of the current state of his life? Would she be happy about his decision to go to London?
The induction period was up and the pressure was on to sell this house and look for somewhere more permanent. Now he was back, the uncertainty that had plagued him since he started in London doubled. He still wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision, but coming back here didn’t seem right either.
One thing that felt right was his bed. Compared to the somewhat lumpy thing in Ruislip, it was deluxe. He didn’t bother with an alarm and it was luxurious to fall under the duvet at nine thirty and not have to worry about when he was getting up the next day.
He woke from the best sleep in a long time to the sound of birds going crazy outside his bedroom window. Pulling back the curtain, he gazed out on a beautiful day.
His shower, so spacious compared to what he’d been using over the last few months, was a joy and he spent way longer than necessary under the tropical rainstorm jet. How he’d missed this. Finlay and Genevieve were expecting him at the church later to help with their flower displays and orders of service, but that wasn’t until the afternoon, so no point in getting properly dressed yet. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and smirked in the mirror. This was so not like him. He hardly ever had days like this. In fact, he only remembered wearing these trousers as pyjama bottoms one night when he’d felt cold. Other than that, they’d never been on.
Downstairs, he set the kettle boiling and checked his phone. Lots of messages had been added to the wedding chat. He scrolled down, checking he hadn’t missed anything important. Mostly, it was everyone expressing delight at him being back and confirming arrangements for that afternoon.
He fired off a quick reply, saying he’d see them later before making himself a coffee and settling at the breakfast bar. He’d taken one sip when there was a knock at the door. Who the…? He placed his cup down, frowning. Hopefully just a delivery, though they must have got the wrong house. He wasn’t dressed for receiving visitors. He opened the door. Oh god… He definitely wasn’t dressed for receiving her.
‘Hayley… What are you—’
Before he could finish, she pounced on him. Her arms were around his neck, her lips on his and her glorious body pressed against his. These sweatpants were such thin material, they were almost pointless. He kicked the door shut and joined in, kissing her, reacquainting himself with her. Oh Christ, just how good did this feel? And happy. Being happy was so unusual for him. Warm liquid was filling all the cold empty spaces inside him.
‘Hello…’ he said somewhat hoarsely, as she pulled away with a grin.
‘Hi.’ With her trademark smile in place, she patted his cheeks. ‘I needed that. I missed you so much.’
‘Me too.’ He put his hands over hers and held them to his face. ‘But I didn’t expect you here. I thought we were done with our little fling.’
‘I’ve reopened it,’ she said. ‘Why not? Unless you’ve got yourself a girlfriend in London.’ She slipped her fingers free and ran them along his shoulders.
He shook his head. ‘Definitely not.’
‘Good. Well, naturally, I still don’t have a boyfriend, so we’re free to keep this going if you want to.’
‘If we carry on with anything this week, we have to be careful. Finlay is staying here with me tomorrow night and there can be no sign that you’ve been here.’
She held out her hands and waggled her fingers. ‘I have nothing with me to leave any signs… Unless you want to take pictures or something.’
‘Er… I don’t think so. Coffee?’
‘That’ll do, for starters.’
‘You’ve already had starters.’
‘So I have. Well, coffee will do as a palate cleanser because I don’t want it to be the main course.’
‘One flat white coming up.’ Oliver smirked as he opened a pod for the coffee machine. ‘Am I to understand you’re only here for my body?’
‘I can’t deny it’s a very nice body, but… Well, it’s not the only thing I like about you.’
‘Really?’
‘Who wouldn’t like a guy who remembers how I take my coffee?’ She folded her arms. ‘How do you know that, by the way? Because I’m pretty sure I never had one at Finlay’s or whatever you said before.’
‘Your mum once told me when I was in the coffee shop.’
‘Did she now? Meddling mother.’
He lifted her mug, handed it to her, and sat opposite her at the kitchen island. ‘Listen…’ How could he word this? ‘I like you, Hayley, you know I do… And, well, it might surprise you to know I always did. You’re a special person and I appreciate what you’ve done for me.’ Though he didn’t always like what she did to him without meaning to. ‘I like being around you and how you make me feel.’
‘But…’
‘No buts, because feelings are just feelings. Just because they exist doesn’t mean we have to act on them in a particular way.’
‘You’re such a lawyer.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘But I’m not sure I know what you’re on about.’
‘I mean, once this week is up, we go back to how we were.’
She gave a little shrug. ‘Was there ever the chance of anything else?’
‘Not really.’
‘Well then.’ She was smiling, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes.
‘That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy this time together.’ He finished his coffee. ‘Why don’t you come upstairs with me and let me show you how I feel?’
‘And is this your turn to like me just for my body?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I think it’s safe to say we’re as bad as each other in that respect, but I’m happy to go for a walk with you, sit and chat, watch a film, anything.’
A smile grew on her face. ‘Let’s save them for later. I’m way too curious to know how you feel. Up we go and you can show me.’
This was his chance. They’d done it before and it had been special, but now was the chance to make it the best. He took her hand in his and their eyes met. Fire raged through his blood. Remember what you said in the heat of the moment last time? Like he’d forget. Was that a case of his true feelings escaping? He couldn’t let that happen again. Those little words were dangerous. They betrayed him and let her know his uncertainty. No one needed to know that. Long-term relationships were not for him. But Hayley tested his resolve so strongly. She could break it any day now, and where would that leave him? What if he gave in? For a fleeting moment, he tried to imagine it, but his mind shut down.
He put his hands around her waist, pulled her hips close to his, dipped in, and kissed her. This was all that mattered. Kissing her and loving her like this. Emotional attachments weren’t necessary. Somewhere in the back of his mind, thoughts still attempted to grab his attention. Scenarios that featured Hayley getting bored with his long hours or annoyed at having to move to London. They’d split up for sure. This was why he couldn’t risk it. And that wasn’t even the worst eventuality. What if she had an accident and was stolen from him?
‘Oh god.’ He pushed the thought away and pulled her close, pinning her against him. She was too precious to lose in that way.
‘Are you ok?’ she asked, and he lessened his grip.
‘I just need you,’ he breathed. Pulling back, he crossed his arms over his chest and ripped off his t-shirt. Hayley’s appraising smile fired him up even more. He slid the neckline of her floaty top to one side and kissed her neck, running his hand over her breasts and capturing a nipple through the fabric. She let out a moan.
Fuck. I love her so much.
He could kid himself it was all physical, but was it? How could he ever feel this way with anyone ever again? In that case, did it mean everlasting love was real? This was the wrong time for deep thoughts.
Their clothes slowly came off as they made their way up the stairs, his sweatpants ending up draped over the banister. As they got to his bedroom, it struck him that no one had ever been in here with him. Any hookups he’d had were always in the woman’s home. Even that seemed significant. He didn’t want anyone else in his bed.
He kicked open the half-closed door with his foot, his lips still locked with Hayley’s. Their arms snaked around each other, his hands moving across her smooth skin, stroking her glorious hair. Her fingers skimmed the planes of his back, tracing his shoulder blades, his obliques, and downward until she gripped his bum.
So much for wanting to take his time. This wouldn’t last long at this rate. Breathe. Control.
‘Lie down,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘On the bed. I want to be on top.’
‘Just like that?’
She nodded and grinned. ‘I can’t wait.’
He kissed her deeply. ‘I’m so glad you said that.’
He fumbled to find a condom in his travel bag, then sat. The bed was soft beneath him and he lounged back, resting on the pillows as she straddled him. Her eyes bored into his as she lowered herself onto him. She tossed her hair like a goddess, her rosy breasts bouncing as she did so. Oliver clamped his hands to her hips and buried himself in her. Back in the most exquisite place in the world. She pinned him to the bed as their hips moved in sync, sitting up and rocking, then throwing herself forward so he could hold her, touch her, kiss her, love her. Their eyes met as she sat up again, rocking fast. He couldn’t pull his gaze from her, but was he betraying himself? Eyes were the gateway to the soul, and she was so good at reading people. What was she seeing now? He slipped his fingers between them, touching her until her smile was huge and she was moaning wildly. Her long hair looped over one shoulder and fell carelessly across her swollen, rosy breasts. She was so beautiful, so joyful, so everything.
‘Hayley, oh god.’ He closed his eyes. If he didn’t, something was going to happen. He couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t blurt out exactly how he felt.
‘Look at me,’ she said and as he opened his eyes, her lips were on his. She had her hands on his cheeks and she kissed him roughly, but it was hot. He moved his hands over her back, savouring the deep, most intimate connection.
I love you.
He gritted his teeth. Must not speak. Not now.
‘Oh my god,’ she cried, slumping into him and shaking. He held her tight as she came undone in his arms.
‘It’s ok,’ he whispered, gently kissing her. And for this moment at least, it was.
Later that day, Oliver and Hayley walked to the church from his house. The grand plan was that they’d return after and spend more time together. If they turned up together, no one needed to know they hadn’t come from their respective houses and just happened to meet on the way.
‘I can see why they called you for flower displays,’ Hayley said as Oliver opened the creaky iron gate to the churchyard. ‘I mean, you clearly have a flair for floral if that jug on your dining table is anything to go by.’
‘That wasn’t me.’ He frowned at her, holding the gate open. ‘I half suspected you.’
‘Thanks, and not guilty.’ She held up her hands. ‘You must have another admirer who comes in and leaves you flowers.’
The gate shut with a clang.
‘Genevieve I imagine… Though she’s not an admirer.’
Hayley laughed. ‘Just as well. That would really complicate things.’ She gazed up at the trees that were coming into leaf all around them. ‘Why do birds go mad in spring? What a racket.’
‘Mating season, I guess.’
‘You got that right.’ She winked.
‘Funny.’ He glanced away. So many memories bounced into his mind when their eyes met. The conflicting thoughts were unbearable.
Genevieve was at the heavy studded oak doors talking to an older woman with short dark hair holding a large floral wreath.
‘Best behaviour.’ Hayley nudged Oliver as they strode up the hill towards them. ‘Hello!’ she called before he could reply.
Genevieve turned around and waved. Oliver let Hayley lead as ever and she was soon in full flow chatting about flower arrangements with Genevieve and the florist like they were her most favourite thing in all the world.
‘This is Nancy.’ Genevieve smiled at Oliver like she’d only just noticed him.
‘Pleased to meet you.’ He shook hands with the florist.
‘You’re the best man, aren’t you?’ Nancy adjusted her thick-rimmed glasses. She looked to be in her late fifties and had a kindly face.
‘I am. Is Finlay inside?’
‘Yes,’ Genevieve said.
Oliver went through the main door and into a stone-floored vestibule that was lined with dark oak shelves filled with hymn books and bibles. This was where his mum’s funeral had been. He remembered those shelves, but weirdly he’d never put two and two together and realised it was this church. How often he’d passed it on the way to and from the office. Such a pretty little place. Peaceful and beautiful. When he’d set foot in here before, his mind had been in such turmoil it hadn’t registered where he was. His heart tremored a little as he stepped into the main area as if he was about to see her coffin at the front, but all he saw was Finlay with his hands in his pockets, looking up at the stained-glass windows.
‘Hey,’ Oliver said.
‘Oh my god.’ Finlay turned around, then winced. ‘Will I get struck by a lightning bolt for blasphemy if I say that in the church?’
‘I doubt it. Are you ok?’
‘I am.’ Finlay marched up to him and muttered, ‘But all the wedding prep is driving me a bit crackers.’
Oliver clapped his shoulder. ‘It’s never too late to call it a day. It’ll save me having to put you in touch with a divorce lawyer some time down the line.’
‘Oh shut up.’ Finlay shook his head. ‘I still want to get married. I could just do with the organising bit being over.’
‘It will be soon and I’m sure it’ll all be fine.’
‘Yeah. I know. It’s funny how it seems to have taken ages to arrange, but at the same time feels like it’s happened so fast I’m not ready at all.’
‘Is that last-minute jitters?’ Oliver asked.
‘I don’t know. It’s more like a desperation for everything to be perfect.’
‘It will be.’
‘Thanks, man.’ Finlay looked around. ‘I hope this weather holds too. Genevieve has bought tons of umbrellas, just in case.’
‘The forecast is good.’
‘You checked?’
‘I did. Didn’t you?’
Finlay shook his head. ‘I didn’t dare.’
‘Aha, best man duty done. It’s all good, even that Rocky Rainman says so.’
‘You realise that’s my cousin, Willow, behind that, don’t you?’
‘Yeah, and the forecasts are usually accurate, so I’m going with it.’ Oliver let out a sigh and leaned his head slightly to check Hayley and the others were still outside. He couldn’t see them, but their voices were chattering not far off.
‘What’s up?’ Finlay said.
‘Nothing. Why?’
‘You looked like you wanted to say something without anyone hearing you.’
Finlay was an annoyingly perceptive friend sometimes. That was what came from knowing someone for a long time.
‘I kind of do, but it’s difficult.’
‘Is it about Genevieve and me?’
‘No. Not at all. I don’t want anything to spoil your big day.’
‘What then?’
‘I’ve met someone.’
‘Oh my god, that’s great.’ Finlay clapped his upper arm.
‘It really isn’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because her life isn’t compatible with mine.’
‘Why? Is this someone you met in London?’
‘No. It’s someone I met here before I went to London. But my life is there now, and hers is here.’
‘You kept that quiet,’ Finlay said. ‘Who is she?’
‘I’m not telling you that. I just needed to offload.’
‘Well, isn’t there some way you can see each other? Long distance maybe? It’s never ideal but some people make it work.’
‘I don’t know. It’s difficult. You know my feelings about relationships.’
‘I do, even if they’re bullshit.’ He cringed again. ‘Please, God, don’t wreck my wedding. I didn’t mean to swear.’
Oliver smirked. ‘I’m just so confused.’
Finlay put his arm around Oliver’s shoulders. ‘How is London?’
Oliver let out a groan. ‘Not really what I hoped for.’
‘In what way?’
‘Something’s missing. Something always is. No matter what I do. Nothing’s ever quite right.’
Finlay nodded his head from side to side as if weighing something up. ‘What about when you’re with this woman? Does that feel right?’
Oliver tilted his head and frowned. ‘Well… I… Yes. I suppose it does.’
‘Well then. Maybe that’s what’s missing. Maybe nothing will ever be right because you’re not happy on your own. You always say you don’t believe in lasting love, but why do you believe in a lasting career? Even when that career treats you like shit, you’re willing to keep working at it, but when you meet a woman you like, instead of working on a relationship and trying to make it last, you’re willing to sacrifice it. Jobs can be changed, Oliver. Girlfriends can too but remember with a person it’s much more likely to hurt than with a job.’ Finlay tightened his grip on Oliver’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake.
Oliver rubbed his forehead and looked away. Finlay had a point. A really good point. But what did it all mean?