Forty-two
It was a week since Erica dropped her bombshell, and Jamie had walked off and left her on the beach, knowing anything he said might ruin any chance of their getting back together. After his meltdown on Monday when he’d unloaded on an unsuspecting Joe, he’d been lucky to have full charters, leaving only the evenings to fall into a blue funk wondering if there was any way he could retrieve the situation. Now he’d found Erica again, he didn’t want to lose her. But it looked as if he might, if he couldn’t persuade her to ignore her daughter-in-law’s wishes. They seemed completely unreasonable to him, but he could see Joe’s point. Briony was family, and he could appreciate the importance of family. His was important to him too. But her daughter-in-law should be going back to Perth soon, if she hadn’t left already. Perhaps Erica would have a rethink. After all, Perth was a long way away. How would her son and daughter-in-law know if she and Jamie were seeing each other?
Jamie had only eaten a few slices of the pizza he’d picked up on the way home, before throwing the rest into the bin. He was pouring himself a glass of whisky, in the hope it would help him get a better night’s sleep than he’d had in the past week, when he heard a rustling at the front door. He rose with a sigh, expecting it to be Lou’s cat. The large ginger cat had developed the habit of wandering at night and had often found her way into Jamie’s garden. On a few occasions he’d weakened and fed her. He guessed that was why she kept coming back.
He opened the door prepared to shoo her off, but instead of Tilly, it was Erica who stood there, holding an orange checked bundle.
*
As soon as she walked into the cottage, Erica saw the blanket. It was still lying in the hall where she’d dropped it when she got back from the beach, a reminder of Jamie and everything she’d lost. She picked it up and buried her nose in it as if she could detect his scent. But all she smelled was damp wool mixed with a faint whiff of the ocean. Folding it carefully again, she took it into the kitchen with her and laid it on a chair, before pouring herself a glass of wine.
It was too early for wine, but after the day she’d had, she was in need of something stronger than coffee or tea. Taking her drink out to the back garden, she replayed the day in her mind, her farewell to Briony and Ava, the visit with Joe and Gill, their advice, then Rachel.
Rachel was right. She had to do what she wanted, not what other people told her to do, and that included Joe, Gill and Rachel. The trouble was that she was torn. Deep down, she wanted Jamie, but not if it meant losing contact with Briony and Ava. One thing she was sure of, she needed to return the blanket. Having it here would be a constant reminder of Jamie.
She waited till she thought he’d have gone to bed, then picked up the blanket and slipped out. She walked down the road, the only light coming from a particularly bright moon, until she came to Jamie’s cottage. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the gate and walked up the path.
At the door, she hesitated, tempted to knock. Then, as she was about to drop her bundle on the doorstep and flee, the door opened, and a shaft of light streamed across the spot where she was standing. Erica blinked at the sight of Jamie standing there looking even more attractive than ever in a pair of old grey track pants and a black tee-shirt, his hair dishevelled.
‘Erica!’
Erica’s heart thudded in her chest. She cleared her throat, pretending not to be affected. ‘Jamie, I…’ She hesitated, torn between turning to flee as she’d planned and throwing herself into his arms. ‘I brought back your blanket.’
‘So I see. Why don’t you come in?’
‘Oh, I…’ Erica didn’t seem able to finish a sentence. This wasn’t what she’d planned.
Jamie opened the door wider.
As if propelled by some unseen source, Erica found herself walking through the door, into the hallway, then into the living room. She placed the blanket on one of the two armchairs and looked around. She was reminded of the last time she’d been in Jamie’s cottage, when she’d come to dress the wound on his hand. So much had happened since then.
‘Won’t you take a seat? And you look as if you need a drink.’
Erica saw a bottle of whisky sitting on the coffee table alongside a half-empty glass. She hadn’t known Jamie was a whisky drinker. ‘I’ve had a glass of wine,’ she said.
‘Sorry, I’m clean out of wine, but you’re not intending to drive anywhere tonight, are you?’
‘No.’ Erica sat down tentatively, perching on the edge of the sofa.
Jamie poured a glass of whisky and handed it to her.
Erica was glad when he took a seat on the other armchair and didn’t join her on the sofa. She took a sip, flinching as the fiery liquid burnt her throat. But it did remove some of the tension she was feeling.
‘You didn’t intend to knock, did you?’ Jamie asked with the lopsided grin she remembered so well. ‘You were going to dump the blanket on the doorstep and run.’
Erica blushed. He knew her so well, how she hated confrontation.
‘I thought it was Lou’s cat at the door and was planning to chase her away. You were a surprise… a good surprise.’
Erica gave a small smile. She’d never been mistaken for a cat before.
‘I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk,’ Jamie said. ‘I’m sorry I rushed off like that… and left you on the beach. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have stayed and talked, but…’ he picked up his glass and took a sip, ‘… I was so upset, so mad. I couldn’t trust myself to stay. So, I left. I’ve regretted it ever since.’
‘I’m sorry too,’ Erica said, clutching her glass in both hands. ‘I shouldn’t have been so… I should have explained more. It wasn’t so much that I agreed with Briony, but… things are difficult for her. I knew what Kieren’s reaction would be if she told him I was seeing you so soon after Geoff’s death. He thought the world of his dad and expects me to be grieving as much as he is. He doesn’t understand… doesn’t want to understand.’ For the first time, Erica wondered if Kieren was as blind to his dad’s treatment of her as he pretended to be, or if he just considered it to be normal. Where had she gone wrong with her son? Or had Geoff’s influence been too great for anything she might have done to ameliorate it? She thought about the last time she’d spoken to him, when she called to check in with Briony and he answered the phone. She’d made a tentative approach, tried to discover his thoughts, suggested he needed to pay more attention to Briony, help her around the house, with Ava. His curt response that he didn’t need her to tell him how to behave had stung her into silence, and done nothing to reassure her.
‘I spoke with Joe.’
Erica stared at him. He and Joe had been talking about her? She should have known. They were mates. Gill had said they’d met. It was how she knew she and Jamie were no longer seeing each other, but… what else had been said?
‘He reminded me that Briony was family and said he thought you might be worried about Kieren, about how he might react…’
Erica swallowed. That was exactly what she had been worried about, but as Rachel said, Kieren and Briony were in Perth.
‘Has she gone back now… your daughter-in-law?’
Erica nodded, all the advice she’d been given swirling around in her head.
‘So…’ Jamie began.
Erica knew what he was going to say. It was what had been going through her mind too. But nothing had changed… or had it. She needed time to think. ‘Thanks for the drink,’ she said. ‘I should go now. I’ve had a busy day and…’ She rose, intending to put her empty glass down on the table. But as she reached down, somehow Jamie was there, so close she could smell his cologne, the whisky on his breath. She froze as her senses leapt to life, her pulse quickening. Suddenly, she was in his arms.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Jamie murmured as his lips claimed hers.