Chapter Seventeen
Beth
At five thirty, I walk out of the Ark after a long and busy day and curse under my breath as I see Jude exiting the building at the same time. I’ve kept to the clinic all day, eating my lunch in Ward Seven while I worked, but I know I can’t avoid him forever.
He sees me and pauses, then walks over. “Hey.”
“Hello.” I force a smile onto my face. “Busy day?”
“Yeah, actually.” He looks tired. “Archer came in to pick up Queenie.”
“Oh, how did that go?”
“Good. She has a sweet nature. She’ll make a great therapy dog.”
“I’m glad.”
He hesitates, his eyes meeting mine, and for some reason the thought springs into my head that he’s going to ask if I want to go to dinner or something. Don’t, I think, panic rising inside me. I don’t want to have to turn him down.
His gaze searches mine, and I think he must see something of what I’m thinking in my eyes, because in the end he just gives a small smile and says, “Have a great evening,” and he walks off, along the drive.
I head back to the cottage, my vision blurring. God, this is so awful. But it will get better. Every hour, every day, I’m healing, and it won’t be long before I can think about him without it hurting so much.
When I get to the cottage, I let myself in and stand listlessly in the living room.
It’s hot, and I haven’t yet been to the supermarket, so I don’t have any food.
I need to walk down to the village and get some necessities.
But instead I sit in the shade of the umbrella at the table outside, close my eyes, and let the sea breeze blow gently across my face.
Eventually, I open my eyes and pick up my phone. I shouldn’t text Archer. I’ve told him I want some time, and I’ll be sending mixed messages if I keep contacting him. I have to be careful of the rebound factor. I don’t want to use him because I’m lonely and sad. That’s not fair to him.
The phone buzzes in my hand, making me jump, and a notification of a text appears on the screen.
Archer: Hey, you. Just checking in. Miss you x
My heart lifts as if swept up on the breeze, and I feel warm all the way through.
Me: I was just thinking about you x
Archer: That’s nice to know! Everything okay?
Me: Yes, I’m fine. Just tired and a little low
Archer: Aw, babe. I’m sorry
His use of ‘babe’ makes me smile.
Me: It’s okay, it’ll pass
Archer: Well I have the perfect remedy here if you’re interested
Me: Oh?
Archer: She’s small, extremely cute, and a terrific cuddler
I laugh. Miss Queenie! How’s she settling in?
Archer: Yeah good, she’s out exploring the garden at the moment
Me: She wasn’t worried about going home with you?
Archer: No, she really is the sweetest thing. She’s eaten most of her dinner, and Jude has taught her to sit, so she’s already making progress
I press my fingers to my lips at his passing reference to Jude. It sounds as if they’re still talking. I can’t explain how relieved it makes me feel to know I haven’t ruined their relationship.
My other thumb hovers over the keypad, and then finally I type, I’m torn, I want to see you, but I don’t want to use you
Archer: Please, use me all you like ;-)
I give a short laugh. You know what I mean.
Archer: I do. But let’s keep it simple. Today, right now, we want to see each other. So let’s see each other, and just forget about everything else
I rub my nose. Okay. I’ll bike over. Be about half an hour.
Archer: I look forward to it. Have you eaten?
Me: No
Archer: I’ll make us something, then x See you soon!
I jump up, go into the cottage, strip off, and take a very quick shower, then realize it’s a bit pointless as I’m going to be cycling over to his place, but at least most of it is downhill.
I pull on a pair of black three-quarter length leggings and my favorite light-blue cycling shirt, touch up my makeup, and twist up my hair into a scruffy bun.
After going out, I lock the cottage, put my phone and keys into my backpack and tug it on, then head off down the path.
It’s a pleasant journey. I pass the paddocks and coast past the Ark, which is quiet now everyone has gone home, sail along the drive, and then head down the hill.
Halfway down I pass the PAWS center, see the new sign, and stop for a moment to admire it.
Has Archer seen it? For some reason, my stomach flips at the sight.
It feels like a symbol of the fact that even though everything has been turned upside down, time keeps moving on.
Thinking about that, I continue along the road, thinking how beautiful the beach is on my right, and admiring the toffee-colored water of the lagoon in the light of the setting sun.
At the end of the beach, I turn left onto Archer’s road and head up the hill to where his house is set back, overlooking the view.
I let myself in the gate and close it carefully behind me, then walk the bike up to the house and leave it leaning against the wall.
Then I go up to the front door and knock, my heart racing.
I hear a dog barking inside and smile. Queenie is already doing her job! Footsteps sound, and Archer says something to her, and then the door opens. He’s holding the Spoodle, and he grins at me.
“This is Beth,” he tells the dog, moving back to let me in, and he reaches out to touch my upper arm as I close the door behind me. He’s telling the dog I’m a friend, but that simple touch brings goose bumps popping out all over me.
“Hello beautiful,” I say to her, giving her my hand to sniff, and touching her gently under the chin. “Isn’t she a gorgeous color?”
“My little redhead.” He chuckles, kisses the top of her head, and then places her on the floor.
I drop to my haunches and let her sniff my hands, and fuss her up. Archer bends to stroke her too, and she immediately lies down and rolls onto her back so he can rub her tummy.
“Impressive,” I say. “Although I’m close to doing the same.”
He laughs and pushes up to his feet, lifts me up, then cups my face. He looks into my eyes and brushes my cheeks with his thumbs. “Are you okay?”
I nod, relieved to see him and to have him touch me, and be so tender and caring.
His lips curve up. “Can I kiss you?” he asks softly.
“Yes please.”
His smile spreads, and then he closes the gap between us and lowers his lips to mine. He wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly against him, safe and secure. My hands rest on his chest, and I sigh and melt into the kiss, opening my mouth to his tongue and giving myself over to him.
After the stresses of the day, plagued by worries and fears, seeing Jude, and all the indecision and I shouldn’t, I mustn’t, just being there in his arms fills me with emotion.
He lifts his head and frowns as he sees tears in my eyes. “Baby,” he says.
“They’re good tears,” I whisper. “You make me happy.”
His frown lifts and he hugs me again, and we stand there like that for a while. He’s big and warm and he smells amazing, of his fresh cologne and the smell of baking bread that’s emanating from the oven.
“Like coming home,” I murmur.
“Sorry?”
“Nothing.” I move back and smile. “What’s for dinner? It smells great.”
“Oh, nothing flashy. Just pasta, and I’ve made some bread.” He leads the way into the kitchen. “Chelsea Winter’s Lockdown Loaf, you know it?”
“Oh, made with beer, right?”
“Yeah, you just throw all the ingredients into the bowl, put it in a tin, and bake it. So easy, and it tastes fantastic.”
“Sounds amazing. I’m starving.”
He glances at me. “Yeah, you look as if you’ve lost weight.”
“I haven’t had much of an appetite since Saturday.”
“Aw, well, we’ll see what we can do about that. Pull up a stool and I’ll dish up.”
I sit on a stool at the breakfast bar, and bend and pick up Queenie while he moves around the kitchen, finishing off the meal.
The dog is happy to sit on my lap, and I say, “Awww…” as she leans against me, cuddling up.
I kiss her head, and she nuzzles my hand, obviously enjoying the attention.
“It’s sad to think she’s been neglected. ”
“Maybe she recognizes a kindred spirit.” He smiles.
“What do you mean?”
He starts slicing the bread. “I think all three of us are a bit touch starved. Don’t you?”
Am I? It would explain why his simple hug felt so good.
I rest my lips on the top of her head, thinking. “I don’t know how it can happen when you’re in a relationship.”
He glances at me, but he doesn’t reply, and he concentrates on buttering the bread.
“I saw Jude as I was leaving,” I tell him, then wonder whether he resents me mentioning my ex. “Do you mind me talking about him?”
“Of course not.”
“It was weird, just saying hi as if he was any other colleague.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. When I picked Queenie up, we chatted for a bit. But if we’re all going to work in the same place, we’ve got to get on with our lives.”
He’s stir-fried some chicken and vegetables, and now he drains the pasta and tips it into the wok, then adds grated cheese and cream and stirs it all together.
It’s nice, watching him moving around. I like how neat and clean he is.
Jude did cook sometimes, but afterwards the kitchen was always filled with a hundred bowls and utensils, and food was scattered all over the counter that I inevitably cleaned up.
Archer rinses the equipment as he finishes with it and places it in the dishwasher, and lastly he wipes down the counter, removing the cheese he scattered across it.
He’s always so competent at everything he does. I like that.
He scoops the pasta into two dishes and retrieves a bowl of green salad from the fridge, and places a couple of slices of his newly baked bread on a plate. “White wine?” he asks.
“Please.”
“Let’s eat on the deck.”
We take it all outside, and pull up two chairs around the table. The sun is sinking behind the hills to the west, and the lagoon is turning a deep blue.