6
Nicole
The last thing she wanted was a quiet day.
Nicole watched as Milly hurried away from the boathouse. She wanted to stop her. She wanted to grab her and say I’m so sorry for everything, but she didn’t recognize this version of Milly. The Milly she knew was open and friendly and held nothing back, but this Milly was reserved and contained as if she’d retreated somewhere that Nicole couldn’t reach.
It was Nicole’s fault, and she badly wanted to fix it. She’d never needed Milly’s listening ear and wise advice more than she did now, but how could she expect her friend to give her the support she craved when Nicole hadn’t done the same for her?
She didn’t know how to make things right between them, and anyway Milly was now out of sight, her mind on her own challenges.
Her life had changed irrevocably, and there was no going back.
Nicole felt a twinge of envy. Things were obviously difficult for Milly, but she had a job she loved and was surrounded by people she trusted. She had her mother, grandmother and Zoe, and she was part of a community that cared about her. She had a normal life, and she lived in this gorgeous boathouse with no intruder alarm and no need for security cameras, and she didn’t have to wake up and read lies about herself in the media. She could go where she liked when she liked without worrying about who might be watching. She liked her life and knew exactly what she wanted to do. She had a direction.
Nicole had no direction. She had major decisions to make, but she was too overwhelmed by everything to make them. She was terrified. For years she’d planned every move she’d made, every part she’d taken, but she hadn’t planned for this to happen.
She needed to talk it all through, but with Milly unavailable, there was no one she could trust. Justin had been the first person she’d allowed herself to trust in a long while, and that had turned out to be a mistake.
In the past, even when surrounded by people who wanted things from her, she’d never felt lonely because in the back of her mind she knew that whatever happened she had Milly and their friendship had felt like a security blanket, but that had been yanked away. Now she really was alone. Completely alone at a time in her life when she desperately needed a true friend.
She had to figure things out on her own. Make decisions on her own.
For once she had to focus on herself and not a part she was playing, but thinking about herself took her right back to the beginning.
Nicole had been ten years old when she’d realized that she needed to change. Being herself just wasn’t enough for her mother. It was impossible not to notice that the other children’s parents always seemed proud. They clapped loudly at school plays and concerts, they cheered from the sidelines during sports matches, they beamed with delight at the artwork displayed on classroom walls. Amy Clayton’s mother had actually clapped her hands when she’d seen Amy’s self-portrait as if her daughter had painted the Mona Lisa, which she most definitely hadn’t (Nicole had actually seen the Mona Lisa on a trip to Paris with her mother, and Amy’s random splodges didn’t come close). All of which proved to Nicole that there was something wrong with her.
She was determined to be the child her mother wanted, someone her mother would be proud of, but how was she going to achieve that?
She envied her friend Milly, who never had to earn praise or affection. Both seemed to be in unlimited supply in her household, her loving relationship with her mother and grandmother so different from Nicole’s own experience that sitting in their cozy kitchen was like landing on an alien planet.
The only thing her own mother seemed to appreciate was academic attainment, so Nicole threw herself into that, but she knew that no matter how hard she worked she was never going to gain straight A’s, so that was unlikely to yield the approval she craved.
Her gift seemed to be entertaining people. Making the other children laugh. She was a wickedly good mimic, imitating teachers when they were out of the classroom and once calling the school office pretending to be someone’s parent so that they could be excused from sports.
In their English class when they all took turns to read aloud from whichever book the teacher had chosen, Nicole threw herself into the task with voices and actions. It was after one of those lessons where the whole class had insisted she read for the entire time, because Nicole actually brought a boring book to life, that the teacher had taken her to see the head of drama.
As they’d walked into the room the teacher had pushed Nicole ahead and said, “I’ve found you a star.”
Nicole had glanced over her shoulder to see who the star was, and it had taken several moments to absorb the fact that the teacher had been talking about her. She’d soaked up the praise like a thirsty plant absorbs water, and she’d never forgotten those words or that encounter because it had been the start of everything.
The drama teacher had given Nicole several parts to read and then immediately offered her the lead in the school play.
Nicole had all but floated home on a tide of praise and approval. Finally, she’d found the thing she was good at. This was her gift.
She couldn’t wait to tell her mother and see her clap her hands as Amy’s mother had, or beam with pride like Tina Pearson’s mother had when Tina had stumbled onto the stage to receive a prize for her short story.
But Nicole’s mother hadn’t done either of those things. Instead she’d banned drama class. You won’t get your grades up by prancing around being an exhibitionist.
Nicole had understood then that she would never make her mother proud.
I’m not enough, she’d thought, I’ll never be enough.
But for the drama teacher she’d been enough, and that was all the encouragement Nicole needed. She’d discovered something she excelled at, and it gave her an alternative to being herself. She could pretend to be someone else. She could step into another person’s life, which seemed infinitely better than her own. There was no way she was giving it up.
And having made that decision, it worked to her advantage that her mother’s interest in her was limited. Thanks to the demands of her job as a surgeon, she was rarely home.
Nicole had forged her mother’s signature on the permission slip for drama classes and told her mother she was having extra tuition at school.
And that had been the beginning.
She worked hard enough at her academic classes to make sure she didn’t draw attention to herself, but the best few hours of the week were her drama classes. She paid more attention in that one class than she did in all the others put together. She absorbed every instruction.
When you’re playing a part, you don’t just pretend to be someone else, you become someone else. You are that person.
To a young girl who hated the life she was living and was struggling to find her place in the world, it was an invitation. If she could be someone else when she was acting, what was stopping her being someone else in real life?
She thought about that moment often, and she was thinking of it now as she sat on the porch swing on Milly’s deck, safely out of view.
She wasn’t used to doing nothing. When she wasn’t on set, she was reading scripts, memorizing lines and letting herself sink into the character she was to become. There was no time to be herself.
She’d had her first big break at nineteen while she was still in college and an agent had seen her performance on stage. Since then, she’d worked nonstop. She’d spent so much of her life playing other people she no longer knew who she was. Acting roles had brought her accolades and adulation. Being herself was unlikely to have the same effect.
Who was she when she wasn’t acting? And would anyone really like that person?
Unsettled by her own thoughts she stood up and headed to the kitchen to make herself a coffee.
Maybe she’d delve through Milly’s books and find something to read. She had decisions to make. She needed to work out what to do, but she didn’t feel ready to confront her reality.
She picked up her mug and was halfway across the room when she heard a rap on the door.
“Milly?”
Nicole froze as she heard the male voice. Milly had said that no one came to her cabin, but apparently today someone had decided to do just that. That was unlikely to be a coincidence, surely?
Panic closed in on her, and she tried to reason with herself. No one had seen her arrive. It wasn’t possible. Or was it? No, this wasn’t someone looking for her. It was someone looking for Milly. And when they didn’t get an answer, they were going to leave.
She heard the sound of the door opening and the voice came again, louder and closer.
“Milly? Are you there?”
He was inside the boathouse. Actually inside.
She hadn’t locked the door. How could she not have locked the door?
The mug slid from her shaking hands, sloshing boiling water over sensitive skin. She registered the scald, but only dimly because right now she was far more afraid of something else.
He was in the house. In the house. And she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t suck air into her lungs. Desperate, she grabbed a knife from the block on the kitchen counter, but her hand was shaking too much to do anything with it.
The crash of the mug on the slate floor brought the man striding into the kitchen, and he stopped when he saw her, his expression cycling through shock, surprise and then recognition.
Nicole clocked the exact moment it dawned on him who she was. She’d been through this scenario a thousand times in her life. It happened in restaurants or when she was walking down the street. People would glance at her, and then the glance would turn into a stare, and there was a moment of doubt: Is it her? Curiosity was usually followed by either a request for a selfie or an autograph or both.
She should tell him that Milly wasn’t here. She should tell him to go, but she couldn’t get her breathing steady enough to talk, and she saw his gaze go from her face to the knife.
“Okay.”
He raised a hand. “I can see I scared you badly. I’m sorry. I was looking for Milly. You’re fine. Everything is fine. You should put the knife down.”
Her heart was beating frantically, and she felt a swirl of dizziness engulf her.
“I’m Joel.”
His voice was calm and quiet. “I work here. I came to see Milly, that’s all. I’m a friend of Milly’s. I didn’t know you were here. Everything is fine.”
The words penetrated the cloud of panic in her head.
Joel. Milly had mentioned a Joel. The guy who built this place?
He wasn’t a stranger who had broken into her house. He wasn’t a photographer or a crazed fan.
He was Joel the everything guy.
She repeated his name in her head, trying to calm herself, but she felt as if she was having a heart attack, her breathing coming in frantic gulps no matter how hard she tried to slow it.
She looked at him, terrified, and he nodded.
“You’re having a panic attack. And given that I’m the cause of it, I should probably leave, but I can’t leave you like this so I’ll call Milly—”
“No.”
She pushed the word out and shook her head. “No.”
She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe slowly, as she’d been taught.
“You’re safe.”
Joel’s voice was slow and steady. “You’re completely safe. I’m going to take that knife from you, and then we’re going to get that burn under cold water.”
She felt him ease the knife from her trembling fingers, talking the whole time.
“That’s good. You’re going to be fine. My sister had panic attacks for a while, and she told me it’s helpful when someone reminds her that it’s going to pass, so I’m telling you this is going to pass. Try and slow your breathing.”
His voice was hypnotic, soothing, and she listened while he told her how he’d restored this place from its original dilapidated state. He talked her through each stage in detail and as she focused on his words, the pain in her chest eased and the dizziness faded.
Her legs were shaking badly, and she leaned against the counter for support. “I’m okay.”
She whispered the words. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? I’m the one who scared you half to death, and I feel terrible about that. You’re pale and you don’t look great, to be honest.”
He frowned. “I really think I should just call Milly.”
“No.”
She was miserably embarrassed that he’d witnessed her reaction. She didn’t want Milly to know. There was so much she hadn’t told Milly. “Just go.”
“I’m not leaving you like this. And also your hand is turning red. We really need to get that under cool water.”
His gaze slid from her face to the mess on the floor. “I terrified you.”
“I wasn’t expecting—”
“Anyone to just walk in.”
His voice was rough and apologetic. “My bad. I don’t normally barge into people’s homes uninvited, but Milly and I have been trying to catch up all morning. It’s changeover day, so it’s always hectic. The café said she was over here, so I thought I’d see her before she headed off to her next task.”
Her mouth was dry, and now that the panic had faded she could feel the burn on her hand throbbing. “You just missed her.”
“Right.”
He walked to the sink and turned on the water, adjusted the flow of water until it was the correct temperature and then stood a little to one side, careful not to crowd her.
Deciding that the quickest way to get rid of him was to comply, she stuck her hand under it and winced as the cool water ran over the burn.
“Hold it there,”
he said. “I’m going to clean up the mess, as I’m responsible for it.”
She didn’t want him to clean it up. She just wanted him to leave, but he was already sweeping up the jagged shards with a brush and dustpan he’d retrieved from the cupboard.
She told herself that Milly trusted Joel, so that was a little reassuring, although Milly trusted almost everyone, so maybe not. Milly lived in a place where she didn’t bother with an alarm and didn’t lock the doors.
Joel disposed of the broken shards, mopped the floor and then joined her at the sink.
“Can I look at your hand?”
“It’s fine. You can catch up with Milly if you leave now.”
Go, go! She started to pull her hand away, but he caught her arm and held her fingers under the water.
“You need to keep it there for a while longer, otherwise you’ll have a nasty burn. I know it feels like overkill, but it’s worth it, believe me. I’m talking from experience. When I’m not burning myself, I’m hammering pieces out of myself.”
His smile was so warm and genuine she almost responded, but then she remembered that people could fake warm and genuine. She did it all the time.
Was he expecting her to introduce herself? This was so awkward. And she had no wish to prolong the encounter.
She wondered if he and Milly were involved. The fact that he’d walked in without waiting for an invitation suggested a level of familiarity that went beyond work colleagues. She remembered Milly’s words from the night before. If he left I’d be lost.
If they were together, then Nicole would be relieved because it would prove that Milly had moved on from Richard. And Joel was undeniably attractive. If she was casting him in a role it would be the Sexy Carpenter. His hair was mussed, and he had paint spatters on his jeans. The hand holding hers under the running water had roughened skin and a dark bruise that suggested he’d trapped a finger recently. He was the type of guy who rolled up his sleeves and fixed things himself rather than calling someone else to fix them. And then there was the fact that he had muscles in all the right places and a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
Was he interested in her friend?
If that was the case, then Nicole didn’t want to blow it for her by being frosty or rude.
“This place used to be a splintered spider trap.”
“Yes. I had to rehome a few as I worked.”
Still holding her hand under the water, he glanced up at the slope of the ceiling with affection. It was obvious that he loved the building, and she felt a flash kinship.
“Milly and I used to play here as children. It was our den.”
She volunteered that information without thinking and then wished she could snatch it back because she never gave out personal information. Not to anyone.
He shifted his gaze to hers. “I didn’t know the two of you were friends.”
Were they? She tugged her hand away from his. “Thanks for your help. I’ll tell Milly you were looking for her.”
A wave of despair washed over her as she faced reality. She’d been here for less than ten hours and already her cover was blown. It was bad for her and bad for Milly. In her head she’d imagined having a week or maybe two to recover a little and decide on what she was going to do before needing to leave the sanctuary of Milly’s home. Instead she hadn’t managed a day. She was going to have to leave right away. But go where?
Joel turned off the water.
She expected him to leave but he didn’t. He dried his hands carefully and then looked directly at her.
“I’m not much good at subterfuge and games, so I’m not going to pretend I don’t know who you are. I scared you, and I’m sorry for that because I’m guessing in your position you have to be pretty careful around people you don’t know.”
And equally careful around the people she did know, which was worse in some ways. In her experience the people who could hurt you the most were the ones who were closest to you because they knew all your vulnerabilities.
She held his gaze. “People aren’t always what they seem.”
He nodded. “I’m sure that’s true, particularly for someone in your position. I’m guessing that you don’t want anyone to know you’re here, otherwise Milly would have mentioned it. So I just want to say that you don’t have to worry about me. I shouldn’t have just walked in, but I did, and I can’t change that. But no one is going to hear about you from me.”
She was sure he believed that, and she wanted to believe him too, but she also knew from experience that all it would take was a few pints in the local pub for him to start trying to impress his friends. You’ll never guess who I met.
He was still watching her, his gaze steady. “You don’t believe me, so I’ll say it again. No one is going to hear about you from me.”
She was startled by how easily he’d read her, and now she was wondering what he was thinking, really.
Had he seen the latest stories about her? Of course he had. And he probably believed every word, because far too many people thought that what they read in the press and online was fact. It shamed her to think what he might have seen. The assumptions he would have made about her.
He gave her a brief nod and walked to the door, but instead of leaving he paused.
“This place is quiet on the whole. Just guests and a few extras who come here to walk and take advantage of the café. It’s pretty easy to spot someone who doesn’t fit. If you notice anyone you don’t like the look of, call me and I’ll come right away. I live close by. And if you need to be smuggled out, I have a van.”
She froze. Maybe not a Sexy Carpenter, she thought. Maybe someone less wholesome who gave his victims a sense of security before he finished them off. A man you would never suspect.
Joel muttered something under his breath and gave her a mortified look. “I can’t believe I just said that. I sounded like a serial killer, didn’t I? Just to clarify, the van is for my climbing gear. In my spare time, I climb.”
“Right.”
“It’s true. It’s the reason I chose to live here. Well, not the only reason, but one of them. The van’s a mess. Full of ropes, and—ropes for climbing, obviously.”
He broke off and shook his head. “I’m going to stop talking now because every time I open my mouth, I’m making it worse.”
His apologetic smile was so attractive that she found herself smiling back. Or maybe she was smiling because he was so adorably flustered.
“Don’t worry. Most serial killers don’t announce themselves before they invite you to step into their van.”
“I’ll remember that.”
He pulled a card from the pocket of his jeans and put it on the side table. “That’s my number. If I can help, use it.”
Another person would have been touched by the offer, and it made Nicole sad that she couldn’t be like that. Unfortunately she’d learned to be wary of everyone. “Thank you.”
There were times when she wished her brain didn’t work the way it did. Times when she wished she could meet someone and not question their agenda.
But this was who she was now, and there was no changing it. Which was why she waited until he left before carefully locking the door behind him.