Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
The bathroom door was half-open, and Fern could hear Daniel humming off-key in the bedroom, not caring in the slightest about his audience.
She sat on the edge of the bathtub, brushing her teeth as he came into the room and leaned towards the mirror, running a hand through his permanently tousled hair.
‘This is a bit intimate for a second date, don’t you think?’ he mused, smirking as he applied toothpaste directly to his tongue, forgoing a brush entirely.
Fern gagged. ‘What are you doing?’
He grinned, foamy-mouthed. ‘Speed-brushing.’
‘That’s revolting.’
‘Efficiency is never revolting.’ He leaned against the sink. ‘At least I don’t brush my hair for ten minutes like I’m about to meet the Queen.’
She narrowed her eyes, flipping her hair over her shoulder. ‘It’s called self-care.’
‘Oh, sorry, and I suppose me sleeping in yesterday’s T-shirt is called…’
‘Tragic,’ she replied.
‘Unbelievable. Second date, and you’re already insulting me.’
She shoved past him, their arms brushing against each other as she moved to rinse her toothbrush. She wasn’t sure why she felt so weirdly aware of him tonight, why her skin seemed to remember his touch longer than it should, but as she climbed into bed, she felt safer with him lying next to her.
Once he’d climbed in, Fern reached to switch off the lamp on the bedside table.
The room sank into darkness, except for the faint glow of moonlight creeping in through the ancient curtains.
She lay on her back, facing the ceiling.
The flat’s eerie stillness made it impossible to ignore the absurdity of their situation.
She wasn’t supposed to be here, wasn’t supposed to be sharing a creaky bed with a man she’d met two days ago, in a flat that felt like a time capsule of someone else’s life.
Then, without warning … touch.
His fingers grazed hers gently. It was purely accidental, but neither of them moved away.
She swallowed. ‘Daniel?’
‘Fern?’
‘What’s your story?’ she asked. ‘I know you love junk, but why? What’s the deal?’
There was a long silence and she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then…
‘I lived with my gran from an early age,’ he answered. ‘She was … everything to me. She raised me after my parents died.’
Fern hadn’t expected that. ‘I’m sorry to hear about your parents.’
‘Both were gone by the time I was ten. My dad got sick. Pancreatic cancer. It was fast, way faster than anyone thought. Three months from diagnosis to funeral. My mum… Jesus, she just couldn’t cope.
She was gone six months after that. Heart attack.
They said it was natural causes but … it wasn’t. I believe it was grief.’
‘Daniel, that’s so sad. My dad died too, when I was ten,’ she shared. It was a tragic experience to have in common. ‘Mum passed when I was twenty-two. You were lucky having your gran.’
‘I was. She was my dad’s mum, and just amazing. We’ve always been close, and she was always obsessed with car boots.’
‘Car boots?’
‘Sales,’ he said, amused. ‘Not actual boots.’
‘Go on…’
‘Every Sunday morning when I was young, come rain or shine, we’d be at some random field or car park, rummaging through old treasures.
She made a game of it, taught me how to spot value in what other people tossed away.
’ He let out a soft chuckle. ‘She said the world forgets things too quickly. That it’s our job to remember. ’
Fern stared up at the ceiling. She had no idea why that made her chest ache.
‘She died a few years back,’ he continued.
‘Matilda stepped into my life a month later. Remember I said she watched me bidding on the teapot against the posh guy? When I won, she came up to me to say congratulations and that was the start of our friendship. Matilda reminded me of my gran. They had the same spirit. She made sure I was okay when I had no one to look out for me, and she took me in when I had nowhere else to go. Taught me the business. Trusted me with it.’
That’s why he didn’t want to let it go. Why he couldn’t.
Fern turned her head, watching his silhouette in the dark. He lay on his back, staring up, lost in thought.
She found herself whispering, ‘I get it now.’
His head shifted slightly. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’
A pause.
‘That was our first deep and meaningful conversation. If this really is our second date, I think you’re pretty much in love with me now.’
She burst out laughing. ‘Oh, shut up.’
‘You are, though.’
She smacked his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin. His chuckle rumbled against the sheets.
‘Why don’t you go and have a look around the island tomorrow? You need to explore your future home.’
‘Ha ha.’
‘It’s a beautiful place and I’m convinced you’ll fall in love with it as much as you have with me.’
She swiped him again. ‘Get to sleep!’
But as she turned away, she felt it. That pull towards him, like gravity shifting.
This was going to be a problem.
A big, ridiculous, Daniel-shaped problem.