Chapter 12 #2
‘A house swap then,’ Jem said, nodding. ‘That takes a lot of trust.’
Poppy resisted the urge to bristle. ‘I know Tom and he knows me.’
Jem met her gaze then, his green eyes curious as he studied her.
Was he wondering what her relationship was with Tom?
He knew they didn’t live together or even live in the same country, but still there was a curiosity in his expression that suggested he suspected there may be more.
She thought he was going to ask the question, but then he seemed to think better of it, changing the subject.
Intrigue quickly pushed her irritation to one side as he started to open up about his own life, telling her that his parents had divorced when he was a kid and how his dad had moved to Crete.
‘I hated him for leaving,’ he told her, his tone sober.
Something that looked like regret crossed his face.
‘He had met someone new and wanted to start a new life without me and Mum. She – Delia – had a son too. A couple of years younger than me. It felt like Dad wanted to ditch us and start over with a new family. They were together for five years, then after they broke up, he kept contacting me, saying he was sorry. It was too late. The damage was already done.’
‘You’re here now,’ Poppy prompted. There was more she could say, and questions she had, but it wasn’t her place to ask them – not yet. She sensed that right now Jem just needed someone to listen.
‘Yeah.’ His lips curved in a wry smile. ‘He died earlier this year. The bastard left me everything.’
‘I’m sorry, Jem.’ They hadn’t been close, but the man was still his father. ‘Had you seen anything of him in recent years?’
‘Just once. He never gave up trying to reconcile and whenever he came back to England, he would ask if we could meet up. I always said no. The last time he came back was a couple of years ago and he was pretty insistent. The three of us met at Mum’s house and he apologised to both of us for the mistakes he had made.
It was all a bit awkward and formal, and I was glad when he was gone.
It was like meeting with a stranger. I realise now that he had a terminal diagnosis.
He wanted to make peace before he died.’
‘How does that make you feel?’ Poppy asked, her tone gentle.
Jem shrugged. ‘I’m still working that out.
I guess there’s a part of me that feels guilty that I never gave him a second chance, but I was never bitter towards him.
Angry for a while, yes, but that faded over time.
It just felt as though too much time had passed and he was no longer a part of my life.
Finding out that he left me all of this is just a bit of a head fuck.
The rational part of me says it’s because there was no one else – at least not family – but then another part wonders if he did it to mess with me. ’
‘Was he the type of person who played mind games?’
‘Who knows? I was nine when he left.’
Poppy thought of her own family. ‘I can’t imagine how hard that must have been on you,’ she sympathised.
Jem stared at her for a moment, then seemed to check himself. ‘Jesus, look at me. I’m treating this like a therapy session. I think that’s enough about my situation.’
‘I don’t mind. It’s good for you to have someone to talk to.’
‘Yeah, but I’m not going to risk boring you stupid. You might not agree to have dinner with me later this week.’
The sudden grin he gave her was so laid-back and hinted at a spark of mischief that, even as Poppy’s chest fluttered, she wondered if he was being serious.
As she tried to think of a witty response, Jem’s attention was distracted.
‘Keira!’ he called, and Poppy’s head shot round. She spotted her friend heading towards them, carrier bags in each hand.
Part of her felt a little bad that Keira had deemed it necessary to give them some space, but it certainly looked like she had been enjoying herself.
‘You’ve been busy,’ she commented as her friend took a seat at the table.
‘Well, you know me. I love to shop. I got the prettiest bracelet and wait until you see my new sarong. I bought fresh bread for lunch tomorrow too.’
Jem attracted the attention of the waiter while Keira showed Poppy her purchases.
‘Do you fancy grabbing some food while we’re here?’ he asked them both.
Poppy glanced at the already darkening sky. ‘We should probably start walking back. It’s quite a trek.’
‘I can give you a lift back after we’ve eaten,’ Jem suggested. ‘I’m only a five-minute walk away.’
Poppy glanced at Keira, who nodded.
‘That’s kind of you,’ she thanked him.
They ordered more drinks – Jem switching to Coke – and perused the menu.
Conversation was easy, their early dinner, when it was served, leisurely, and by the time they left the taverna, the sky was already dark.
Jem led the way through almost empty streets, quieter now with a November hush, and back onto the road that sloped gently towards the sea, before turning off down a dirt track lane.
The scent of salt clung to the air, the sound of waves thrashing in the distance, and as the cool breeze brushed Poppy’s skin, she slipped on her cardigan.
Eventually, they reached a small cluster of secluded villas.
‘This is me,’ Jem told them, stepping into the driveway of a modest single-storey property set back slightly from the road. From what she could see in the illumination of the outdoor lights, its white walls were weathered by years of sun, and the garden was a mix of gravel and hardy shrubs.
Poppy wondered if he was going to show them inside, but he clicked a fob at the SUV parked in the driveway and went to open the driver’s door.
Before he could, a light came on in the neighbouring property and a voice carried across the darkness.
‘Jeremiah? Is that you, love?’
Poppy froze, recognising the voice.
Moments later, Sue emerged from the front door, wrapped in a long cream cardigan over her evening clothes, Ian appearing behind her with a glass of wine in his hand.
‘We thought we heard voices,’ she said brightly, spotting Poppy and Keira. ‘Oh! You’ve brought company.’
Poppy forced a polite smile. ‘Hi again,’ she greeted them.
‘You should come in for a nightcap,’ Sue suggested immediately, already stepping closer to the low wall separating the two gardens. ‘We’ve got a lovely bottle open.’
‘Actually, we really need to be getting back,’ Keira replied before Poppy could speak. ‘It’s getting late.’
‘Oh, go on,’ Sue persisted. ‘One drink won’t hurt.’
‘Don’t fuss them, love,’ Ian told her, giving the girls an apologetic smile. ‘Perhaps we can invite them over for dinner one night.’
Neither Poppy nor Keira reacted and after a moment of awkward silence, Jem opened the car door. ‘I’m going to run them back. Long walk otherwise.’
Sue looked a little disappointed but recovered quickly. ‘Well, don’t be strangers. You’re welcome over whenever. It’s nice to have some younger company.’
‘Thank you,’ Poppy told her, feeling a little guilty.
As she got in the front passenger seat, Keira climbing into the back, she was aware of Sue watching – not rudely, just intently – and the feeling didn’t subside until Jem had reversed out of the driveway and the villas disappeared behind them.
The road back seemed darker than when they had walked home previously; Jem’s headlights catching empty walls, closed shutters, and the occasional flash of sea beyond the verge.
Without conversation filling the air and the only sound coming from the low purr of the engine, the quiet of the island pressed closer.
Keira yawned in the back seat. ‘I could fall asleep right now.’
‘You won’t,’ Poppy said. ‘I know you, you’ll be wide awake the second we get back.’
Jem smiled, but didn’t join in. In the dark shadows of the car, she could see the sharp planes and angles of his jaw and cheekbone.
After a moment, he asked softly, ‘Are you okay staying on your own once Keira leaves?’
‘Of course.’ Poppy laughed. ‘I’m not completely helpless.’
‘I didn’t suggest you were.’
Something about the way he said it made her glance his way again, but his attention was on the road.
They fell silent again and she focused once more on the view from her window.
A few minutes later, Jem pulled up outside their villa and turned off the engine.
For a moment none of them moved, then Keira opened her door, climbing out and stretching. ‘Thanks, Jem. Appreciate the lift.’
She was already heading through the gate before he could acknowledge her.
‘Thanks for tonight,’ Poppy said. ‘I had a nice time.’
‘Me too,’ he agreed. ‘So, dinner on Friday after Keira leaves?’
She nodded. ‘I’d like that.’
Jem waited until she was at the front door before driving away, his headlights sweeping across the wall and briefly illuminating the garden.
Later that night as she drifted towards sleep, Jem remained in Poppy’s thoughts. The easy conversation. The way he had listened. The crease between his eyebrows when she had mentioned the house swap.
She replayed the drive back – the quiet, the headlights gliding over the road – and then the moment they had reached the villa.
He hadn’t reacted. Not even a word.
Most people would have. The place was huge, unmistakable, even in the dark. But he’d simply slowed to a halt outside, switching off the engine.
And there had been no hesitation before that. No checking addresses. No asking for directions.
Her eyes opened in the darkness.
They had never told him where they were staying.
Poppy lay still, listening to the silence of the villa.
How had Jem known where to go?