Chapter Eight #2
Everyone cheered, and Clara high-fived Sam.
He gave her a broad smile, but felt sure her mind was still lingering on Kerr and Georgie.
The table buzzed with chatter and laughter, wine glasses clinking as drinks were poured.
Sam was with his lemon and lime and zero per cent beer for the evening, but he wasn’t bothered.
He didn’t need to drink to have a good time.
Lissa and Duncan were tossing back gallonfuls and getting louder and louder.
When the menus arrived, Clara leaned into Sam, her shoulder brushing against his as she peered at the options. ‘Do you think that’s good or just weird?’ She pointed to a grilled aubergine dish.
His finger grazed hers as he slid it down the page. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. Sounds a little bit strange, but this place has a good reputation, so it’s probably ok. As long as you like aubergines.’
She giggled and leaned into him again. ‘I don’t know if I do or not. I can’t remember what they taste like.’
Her leg bumped against his, and he worked to keep his breathing steady. ‘They don’t have a very strong taste. It’s more about what goes with them.’
‘Yes, that’s a good point. I might be safe and have the chicken.’
‘And I might have the salmon.’
‘Ooh, nice. I like the sound of that too. I can see I’m going to have food envy no matter what I choose.’ She took a sip of her wine.
Eventually everyone had decided, and some servers came and took the orders. Once that was done, the chatter and laughter restarted.
‘Thank god the inspection is over.’ Eddie raised a glass. ‘And hopefully that’s the last one I’ll ever have – I want to be well and truly retired the next time they’re due.’
‘I caught some second years on TikTok when one of them was in with us,’ Brenna said. ‘When they shouldn’t even have had their phones. I nearly died.’
Sam leaned in close to Clara, dropping his voice. ‘Thank god this is a private room, or we’d be in trouble.’
Clara nodded and pulled a face. ‘I know, right? I always wonder what Gil makes of it all. Do you think he’s secretly watching everyone?’
Sam smirked. ‘Possibly. I’m glad he’s at the other table.’
The dinner arrived, and they all tucked into delicious meals.
Having Clara next to him gave Sam a sense of peace and ease, but also an odd sense of strength.
Strength not just within himself, but for her.
His shoulders felt broader and his chest more open than usual.
Even his arms felt powerful when they brushed against her.
‘Are we doing some dancing?’ Adele tossed up her hands and did a full body gyrate. For someone who was normally do calm and collected, she really knew how to let her hair down.
‘I’m not.’ Sam shook his head.
‘I bet you’ve got all the moves.’ Clara beamed at him.
‘Er, no.’
‘Well, Dunc is the king of the dad dance.’ Lissa tossed back more wine. ‘So, we’ll definitely have a few.’
Once dinner was over and the tables were shifted aside, music blared through the speakers. Sam leaned back in a chair, nursing his lemon and chatting with Matthew, a physics teacher, and Matthew’s wife, Nina.
The dance floor was already jumping. Kerr and Georgie were up with Eddie and Kenneth. Adele and Brenna had found a couple of the others and looked like they were at a hen party.
Clara and Lissa were with Polly, their arms up, moving to the beat.
Sam smiled at the joyful look on Clara’s face.
It was good to see her letting go of her worries and enjoying herself.
She laughed as Lissa twirled her around, her hair catching the light each time she turned.
It was hard not to notice her… but he reminded himself for the hundredth time that she was just a friendly colleague.
Mirren was dancing with Kerr and Georgie and a young man who was presumably her boyfriend – he had some very sharp dance moves compared to most of the others.
A loud laugh pulled Sam back to his conversation, and Lissa’s husband, Duncan, returned with a beer in hand, throwing himself into the chair next to Sam with a satisfied grin.
‘You given up dancing already?’ Sam asked.
‘I can’t keep up.’ Duncan gestured to the dance floor. ‘The ladies are tearing it up out there.’
‘They sure are.’
‘Uh-oh. Look out, they’ve got the target missiles in operation, and you’re on their radar.’
‘What?’ Sam looked up as Lissa and Clara danced towards him. Lissa tugged at his arm, grinning. ‘Come on, Sam. You can’t just sit there all night.’
‘Yes, I can.’
‘You’re going to a wedding, remember? You need to practise.’
‘I won’t be dancing there either.’
‘You could be.’ Lissa winked. ‘If you take your fake wife.’
‘Seriously, Lissa.’ Clara batted her arm, then reached out and took Sam’s other hand. ‘Come on, we’ll show you what to do. It’ll be fun, I promise.’
He shook his head, feigning resistance, but they weren’t having it. Duncan leaned in with a knowing look. ‘They’re not letting you off, mate. Better to go with it.’
Sam sighed and let himself be pulled to his feet. ‘Ok, ok,’ he muttered, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Lissa did a triumphant fist-pump, and Clara held his hand tight, leading him to the dance floor. ‘See? It’s painless, I promise. Here, all you’ve got to do is… this.’ She did a little twirl, holding up his hand so she went under it.
‘So, you want me to spin you around?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Um, are you ok with me like… moving you?’
‘Sure.’
‘Ok then.’ He reeled her in, so she was tightly wound in his arm, and for a moment, he held her there tight against his chest, then he spun her out.
She giggled, and Lissa clapped as she danced beside them, completely uninhibited and carefree.
‘Was that what you meant?’ he asked.
‘Perfect.’ Clara grinned as she met his eyes, her hand still in his. The music surged, and Sam laughed along. He didn’t have a clue what he was doing, but Clara seemed happy being twirled and spun around. The very fact that it was making her so joyful made him want to stay there.
When the music stopped, everyone cheered, and Clara hugged him. Sam gently patted her back before stepping away. ‘Can I sit down now?’
The music shifted to a soft, slow tune. Lissa grinned. ‘No. You stay there with your pretend wife. I’ll see if my real husband will dance this one with me.’
Clara rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips.
‘Shall we?’ She stepped closer, slipping a hand into his and placing the other one on his shoulder.
Maintaining eye contact, he glided his hand around her back.
Her dress was cut very low, and the warmth of her skin was palpable as he made contact with it.
Instinctively he held back, but she drew closer and smiled.
‘This is nice, isn’t it?’ She nestled against his shoulder and sighed contentedly as they swayed to the music. Sam had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. Were there steps to follow? But it didn’t seem to matter. And really this was very pleasant.
‘You know, Sam… you’re the best.’ Clara rubbed her head on him, and he inhaled her fragrance, which seemed a little darker and headier than the one she wore during the day. ‘That’s why I love you.’
He huffed out a laugh. She threw that phrase around like confetti. He patted her back gently.
‘Thanks, pretend wife,’ he murmured.
She giggled, then pulled back to look at him. ‘I actually quite like you being my pretend husband.’
He raised his brows. ‘Why?’
She tilted her head as if thinking. ‘Because it feels like… well, if I fall, you’ll be there to catch me and keep me safe.’
He watched her closely, glancing between her eyes and frowning. Did she mean that? A smile quirked the corner of his lips, and he nodded, tugging her closer, and lowering his cheek to her head.
The song wound down, and they slowed to a gentle stop. Clara pulled back and held his gaze for a moment, then she pushed up on tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. He swallowed.
‘You can sit down now.’ She winked at him. ‘Unless you want to keep dancing.’
‘I think I’ll sit. But thank you. That was actually quite fun.’
‘Aw.’ She patted his arm.
Sam slumped down beside Lissa.
‘I’ll be back. Bursting for the loo.’ Clara headed across the dancefloor. As she disappeared out the door, Lissa tapped Sam’s shoulder.
‘What’s going on with you and her, aye?’
‘Nothing.’ He nudged up his sleeve. ‘You know what she’s like. And… well, she’s… going through a rough patch.’
Lissa arched a brow. ‘Has she told you about her… troubles?’
‘It’s not my place to say.’
Lissa gave a tiny, resigned nod. ‘Ok, fair enough. But you two look very cute together.’
‘Stop trying to play matchmaker.’
‘Someone needs to.’
Clara reappeared and reclaimed her seat. ‘What’re you two whispering about?’ She leaned across Sam to eye Lissa.
‘You and I dancing has caused some speculation and intrigue.’
‘Not half.’ Lissa nodded.
Clara laughed, nudging Sam’s shoulder with her head. ‘Aw, but that’s because Sam’s such a lovely man.’ She closed her eyes. ‘It’s why we love him so much.’
He shook his head, laughing and pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘You must be drunk.’
‘She’s certainly something.’ Lissa burst out laughing.
As the evening grew late, a few people started to drift away, waving and shouting goodbyes. Clara couldn’t stop yawning.
‘I’m obviously too old for late nights. I should call a taxi.’
Sam checked his watch. ‘I can give you a lift if you want. And you.’ He turned to Lissa.
‘Wait, have you not had anything to drink?’ Lissa raised her eyebrows.
‘Nope. I have to get back to Clachnabronnachan, and it was easier to drive.’
Lissa stared between him and Clara. He didn’t need to hear her comment to know she found it amusing he’d been stone-cold sober through all their tipsy antics.
‘Such a saint.’ Lissa gave Duncan a look. ‘We’ll take a lift if you don’t mind. The taxi was bloody expensive, and you’ll pass our house on the way to Clachna-whozzit.’
‘My house is in the other direction though,’ Clara said. ‘Are you sure it’s ok?’
‘Yeah, of course I am. We’ll detour that way first.’
They said their goodbyes, then headed out into the cooler evening air.
Clara wobbled a little, and Sam steered her gently with his hand on the small of her back.
‘Duncan can go in the front,’ Lissa said. ‘Girls in the back, like the royalty we are.’
The drive was reasonably quiet, with Duncan sounding like he was already asleep and snoring, while Clara and Lissa hummed something soft.
Clara’s cottage was a cute little place at the edge of a wood on the Glenvorneth Estate. A couple of lights from the manor house twinkled in the distance.
Sam pulled up to the cottage at the side of the driveway. Clara shuffled forward to lean through the space between the front seats. ‘Thanks for everything tonight, my lovely.’ She planted a light kiss on his cheek, and he smiled.
‘Night-night.’ He reached around and patted her hand. She got out, and he waited until she’d opened her door and gone in before he drove off.
Lissa gave a mock groan. ‘Well, forgive me, Sam, but I’m not giving you a kiss goodbye.’
Chuckling softly, he drove back to Glenbriar. Lissa’s house was in a modern estate on the edge of the town, where most of the houses looked the same. Lissa had to get out and shake Duncan awake. ‘Thanks for the lift.’ She waved to Sam.
Once they were safely inside, he drove on towards Clachnabronnachan. The silence was drowned out by a buzzing in his ear. A strange sensation descended on him, trying to make him think, but he didn’t really want to. The more he resisted, however, the more painful it became, and his head ached.
When he reached the tiny hamlet, he stood for a moment in the driveway of his neat, detached stone house, in the quiet row of buildings, staring up at the midnight-blue sky.
The stars were faint tonight – just a scatter of cold pinpricks in the dark.
He fumbled with his keys, found his phone and saw a message from his friend Dominic about the wedding.
Talk about bad timing. Sam couldn’t imagine getting through it on his own – but he’d have to.
He had no other choice. Pushing through the door, he let it thud shut behind him.
He rubbed both hands over his face, still feeling the ghost of Clara’s kiss on his cheek. The warmth of it had faded, but the ache hadn’t. He tossed his keys onto the table, the clatter far too loud in the stillness.
For God’s sake, pull yourself together. He was just tired. That was all. He needed to sleep, let these ridiculous thoughts drain away.
But her voice kept circling, soft and bright, in his head.
‘Sam’s such a lovely man. It’s why we love him so much.’
He closed his eyes. Hopefully, she hadn’t meant she loved him. Because he couldn’t love her back. Not because he didn’t want to try.
He wasn’t free to.
There was no future he was willing to give her, because he wouldn’t inflict his life on anyone.