Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Jen’s legs pumped the pedals of her old bike with a rhythm that matched the pounding in her chest. The wind whipped through her hair, carrying away the lingering scents of coffee and baked pastries as the café shrank into the distance behind her.
So focused was she on adding distance between her and Sam that she took the turn off the main street too fast and nearly collided with a car. She swerved, waved apologetically and continued on up the narrow road towards MacLeod’s Cottage.
What on earth was she doing? Not even one day back, and she’d nearly managed to kill herself.
It seemed she’d left all her senses behind in the café.
Her pace slowed as she realised she was wrong.
She hadn’t left her senses behind. They were simply full — of Sam.
Her ears still heard his Kiwi accent, and her nostrils flared at the memory of his scent — pure male edged with a trace of sandalwood aftershave.
She’d forgotten. And she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten.
How could she have done? Their relationship had been intense.
Once, she’d thought they’d be together forever.
But events had changed that. And time, and her anger at what had passed between them, had forced the memories away, so far back that she’d thought they’d been erased. But they hadn’t.
The shock of seeing him again had brought everything flooding back, and it seemed no amount of self-talk would remove Sam’s face from her mind.
He’d changed. There was no doubt about that.
His face was tanned, and lines had formed around his smile — bracketing his mouth and fanning out from his eyes.
He’d always had a lovely warm smile, and now there was permanent evidence to prove how ready it was.
She shook her head, determined to rid it of the unwanted thoughts and memories.
She’d made a choice fifteen years ago, and she had to live with the consequences.
It would only be a matter of time before Alistair discovered where she’d gone, and she had to be prepared for that.
She hoped that what she’d left behind for him in terms of her money and the house would be enough.
But the truth was, she didn’t know if it would be.
Jen pushed the bike up the garden path and leaned it against the shed.
Taking the bag of shopping, she suddenly realised she didn’t have a key.
She tried the doorknob and it opened. She grimaced.
That would have to stop. She flicked the latch, and the lock fell into place.
She’d have to tell her mother everything, so she’d understand how things would have to change from now on.
‘I’m back,’ she called out. But the place was silent. The front door closed behind her with a clunk and a rattle, and she walked through to the kitchen. A scattering of noodles lay on the table alongside a plate smeared with peanut butter and crumbs. He’d obviously been hungry. A good sign.
She unpacked the few groceries she’d bought, poured herself a cup of coffee and went outside. She didn’t expect to find them in the garden, as she’d have heard them from inside so, instead, she opened the gate in the wall which led through the sand dunes, on down to the beach.
She hadn’t gone far when she saw them — two figures crouching by the stream that cut through the sand. She walked towards them across the otherwise empty beach, lifting her face to the spring sunshine, soaking up its warmth.
It would be all right — it had to be. This was her priority now.
Not the past. Not… She paused mid-step, bringing her thoughts up sharp.
Not Sam. He was in the past and would have to stay right there, where he belonged.
She had no time for idle fantasies about what might have been.
She had a reality to deal with that she couldn’t walk away from.
She didn’t call out immediately, enjoying the sight of them crouched side by side, focussing intently on something.
Liam knelt on the wet sand, his hand scooping through the water.
Kate stood over him, her hand resting across his shoulders.
It warmed Jen’s heart to see their newly forged connection.
A squawk of seagulls disturbed by Jen’s approach made Liam look up. He scrambled to his feet holding a shell up high for her to see.
‘Mum! Look what I’ve found. And Gran says there are loads of others living under the sand. And just cos you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they’re not there, and we have to respect them and care for them.’
Jen bobbed down beside him and examined what he held in his hands, despite having zero interest in it.
What she really wanted wasn’t to hear about the life cycle of the pipi, but to swing him around in the bright New Zealand sun and revel in their release from hell.
But she didn’t. Not yet. It was too soon to celebrate.
Between showing Liam around the beach and the house, the day had passed quickly.
As Jen washed up, she half-listened to Liam and her mother talk while they played cards at the kitchen table.
He’d eaten well and seemed calm and content.
Usually, he would cling to her and follow her closely, silently watching what was going on around him.
It made her heart ache to think about it.
But here he seemed surprisingly settled.
She glanced out the window. ‘I’ll bring in the washing,’ she called.
‘Right-oh.’
After Jen had unpegged the clothes, she rested the basket on the table and went and looked over the gate at the sea.
The tide was out, exposing the long stretch of sand.
The sun was low, about to dip behind Kāpiti Island, which lay a few kilometres offshore.
But for now, the sun’s rays flooded the sands with amber light; the stream which crossed the sands was like a golden river flowing out to sea.
Long moments passed as she gazed at the scene before her. She was held captive by the way the golden light bled up into the raspberry clouds, hovering over the distant horizon where the tip of the South Island lay. An unfamiliar sensation filled her — so fragile she barely dared breathe.
At the back door, basket in hand, recognition finally came to her. Peace. She huffed a laugh. When had she last felt that?
‘Where’s Liam?’ she asked as she came inside.
‘Upstairs.’ Kate finished filling the kettle and flicked on the switch. ‘He was yawning like mad, so I suggested he get ready for bed.’
Jen’s eyebrows shot up. ‘By himself?’
‘No,’ said Kate. ‘I took him there. He was a bit reluctant, but I left him to clean his teeth. He seemed OK with that.’
‘Right,’ said Jen, unable to hide her surprise.
‘Something the matter?’ Kate asked, eyeing her thoughtfully.
‘No, it’s just…’ Jen sighed. ‘Just that he usually likes me close to him. All the time.’
‘And why is that?’ pressed Kate gently.
Jen put down the basket of dry laundry ready to fold. ‘I’ll tell you after I’ve read him a story.’
‘I’ll have a cup of tea waiting.’
‘I might need something stronger.’
‘Lucy will be here soon. I’ll text her and ask her to bring a bottle of wine around.’
‘No need!’ said a voice from the hallway, followed by the bang of the front door closing.
‘I’m here already, and’ — she stepped into the kitchen holding a bottle aloft — ‘I bring wine. Mum said you’re making your famous spaghetti bolognese.
’ She placed it on the table and hooked her bag over the chair. ‘How come the front door’s locked?’
‘Is it?’ asked Kate, looking at Jen.
‘Yes. I locked it. Sorry, but if we’re going to stay here, we’re going to have to tighten up on security.’
Kate turned a worried look at Lucy, whose eyes widened in surprise. ‘For real?’
‘Yes, absolutely.’
‘Then,’ said Kate, rising to gather some snacks, ‘that’s what we’ll do. We’ll go shopping tomorrow and get whatever we need to make you feel safe.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ said Jen, relieved her mother didn’t ask questions.
‘Glass of wine, Jen?’ asked Lucy. ‘It’s good. I buy only the best.’
‘Perfect. Pour me one while I check on Liam.’
Lucy popped a cracker topped with creamy brie into her mouth and mumbled her agreement as Jen left the room.
Although Jen knew she was about to face the third-degree from her sister and mother as to what exactly had happened with Alistair, she felt relieved to be able to tell someone about what had been going on over the past few years.
She’d borne it alone until now. Scared to confide in anyone in case word got back to Alistair.
She opened Liam’s door to find him already in his pyjamas, lying on his stomach, flicking through an old comic. He’d switched on both the bedside and the nightlight, and the attic bedroom looked cosy and inviting.
Sitting on the side of the bed, she ruffled his hair. ‘What are you reading?’
‘The Beano,’ he said.
‘The Beano?’ she laughed. ‘My goodness, your grandma keeps everything. That was a collector’s item in my brothers’ day.’
He laughed at something he was looking at and, still holding the comic, rolled onto his back. ‘It’s funny. It makes me laugh.’
‘Does me too. And do you want to know what else makes me laugh?’
‘What?’
‘You.’ She knelt on the bed and held her hands up high. ‘Your laugh when I tickle you.’
He shrieked, and she tickled, despite knowing it wasn’t likely to help him settle.
But she felt so… normal, that she couldn’t resist. And to her surprise, when she’d finished and his laughter had subsided, he lay down beside her.
Snuggled in her arms, he quickly calmed down.
When he reached for his soft toy, she knew a short story would be sufficient for tonight.
After she’d finished reading, she brushed his hair from his face and kissed the top of his head.
‘Sweet dreams, baby.’
He sighed and gave a soft, contented grunt.
She walked quietly to the door.
‘Mum,’ he said. ‘We can stay here now, can’t we?’
She grasped the soft fabric of her shirt and turned to him. ‘Yes,’ she said, knowing she wasn’t being entirely honest because she wasn’t sure herself yet. But she needed Liam to feel secure. ‘Would you like that?’
He nodded back, his curls bobbing with equal enthusiasm. ‘Yes. Grandma said we could explore the beach more, and she’ll take me to this big park where they have geckos and wetas and birds and creepy crawly things I’ve never heard of.’ He looked at her with shining, excited eyes. ‘I like Grandma.’
‘Me too.’ She went back over to him and kissed him again. ‘Me too. I’ll come back in a little while to switch off your light. Night-night.’
She began to close the door as she’d always done to make sure he was safe and unaware of any shouting from Alistair.
‘No!’
She opened it wide, alarmed by his response.
‘I like the door open. I can hear you all then.’
She smiled. ‘Of course. I’ll leave it half-open, so you can see the light from the landing, and hear us downstairs. OK?’
He nodded and snuggled down in his bed.
‘Night, darling,’ she said.
‘Night Mum.’ He looked up at her. ‘And Mum? I’m glad we can stay here. I never want to go back to London.’
She cleared her throat. ‘We won’t.’
As he reached again for his soft toy, she knew he’d be asleep in moments.
She descended the stairs, thinking that he hadn’t once mentioned his father, his home or friends. It was almost as if they’d never existed. Maybe it was for the best.
Now she had to face the inquisition — also known as her mother and sister. Her toughest critics and biggest supporters.