Chapter 10 #4
‘I wasn’t being flippant when I said before that I was trying to get away from archaeology and history,’ he said, slightly apologetically.
‘I wanted to get as far as possible from my parents’ legacy.
I suppose that for a while I saw archaeology as the thing that killed them.
’ He shifted a little uncomfortably. ‘Melodramatic, I know, but I was only young when they died. I needed some time to see my passion for numbers in a more positive light.’
‘Which you evidently did.’ Jenna reached out and touched the back of his hand lightly.
‘It’s hard to know what you want to do when you’re that young anyway, isn’t it.
Even without all the trauma you and Rachel were dealing with, you would have needed some time.
I’m glad you found your way through it, Owen. ’
Owen turned his hand over and his fingers interlaced with hers.
‘Thanks,’ he said, giving her a brief smile.
He looked away and Jenna could sense how hard it all still was for him.
‘At least I had Rach,’ he said. ‘I think that’s maybe one of the reasons we’re still so close now.
And we had our grandparents, and our cousin Jack.
Jack in particular was great because although he’s nine years older than me, he could remember how it felt to be sixteen and utterly lost.’ His fingers tightened on Jenna’s for a second before he let her go.
‘Both Rachel and I were probably a nightmare to deal with in our different ways. I owe a lot to my family.’
Jenna laughed. ‘You two don’t have a monopoly on behaving badly,’ she said. ‘Show me a teenager who isn’t a nightmare sometime.’
‘I can’t imagine you were ever like that,’ Owen said. ‘With two younger sisters, weren’t you the responsible one?’
‘I guess.’ Jenna sighed, remembering that Bree had called her on it.
‘There’s a lot of truth in the clichés about birth order.
I was definitely the conscientious one and I know I still overdo it sometimes.
I’m always worrying about Molly and Bree when I should just let them get on with their lives. ’
Owen was laughing as he finished his steak pie. ‘It sounds as though you’ve got a lot of self-awareness, though. That must help if you want to make changes.’
‘Maybe…’ Jenna realised she was feeling warm, fuzzy and relaxed for a change, everything else pushed to the edges of her mind. For once she wanted to focus solely on the present.
‘That was delicious.’ She finished her chicken Caesar salad and gave a little sigh. ‘I wish I could manage a pudding, but realistically it’s not an option since I had chips with the salad.’
‘We could get one pudding and two spoons,’ Owen pointed out. ‘Or—’ he turned to look at where the staff were setting up a small stage ‘—you might have worked up an appetite after the karaoke.’
Jenna snorted. ‘There speaks a man who has never heard me sing! I wouldn’t dream of putting you through that.’
‘That’s a shame.’ Owen smiled lazily. ‘It looks as though it’s down to me, then.’
After he had given a very fair rendition of ‘Return to Sender’ by Elvis Presley, which everyone including Jenna applauded enthusiastically, they shared an apple crumble and then sat through various energetic if not entirely accurate versions of several ballads and pop songs.
Finally, Jenna regretfully announced that she had to head home.
‘I don’t really want this evening to end,’ she found herself saying as Owen and Titus walked her to her car. ‘I’ve had such a lovely time. Thank you, Owen.’
She felt strange, she realised; dizzy, happy, a little light-headed, as though she was tipsy without a drop of alcohol having been drunk. She could not remember the last time she had felt like this.
‘I enjoyed it very much too,’ Owen said.
He bent to kiss her cheek and there was a question in the brush of his lips against her skin, and Jenna stood on tiptoe to kiss him back and answer it.
His hand came up to rest gently on the small of her back, drawing her close to his body.
She felt an overwhelming sense of perfection, as though she was in the right place, as though they fit.
Then the kiss became sweet and fierce, and she lost herself in the warmth and promise of it.
‘If you’re free tomorrow,’ Owen said, when they finally stepped apart, ‘would you like to go out somewhere? With Titus as well,’ he added, looking down at the spaniel, who was watching them, head on one side, rather like an approving chaperone.
‘I’d like that,’ Jenna agreed, smiling. ‘How about the seaside? It only takes an hour and a half to get to Weston-super-Mare from here.’
‘That sounds perfect,’ Owen said. ‘See you tomorrow.’
Jenna watched them set off up the footpath behind the pub towards the twinkling lights of Swan Court. It was a physical ache to let Owen go. She wanted to stay with him. Never had the cosy book-filled flat in Wantage felt so lonely and never had the secrets she was carrying felt so heavy.