Chapter Sixteen
Bea sat at the kitchen table with her laptop open in front of her, staring out the window instead of at the screen. She should be working. She’d fallen into the habit of doing a good portion of her client work on Wednesdays, for no particular reason other than that it was the middle of the week.
This morning, she didn’t want to do any of it. Blane’s question kept playing on her mind. Why didn’t she simply give it up? Yes, her clients relied on her, but they could just as easily come to rely on someone else. She didn’t owe them anything, and—
She smiled and pushed to her feet when she heard a car door close outside.
Blane had been very mysterious about where he was going this morning, and she couldn’t wait to see what he was up to.
He was terrible at disguising his intentions.
He’d tried to make out that he had some business of his own to attend to—and she would have understood perfectly if he did—but the way he’d insisted on being so vague about it had made it completely obvious that whatever he was doing, he was doing it for her.
It really didn’t matter what it was. She didn’t need him to do anything. But the fact that he wanted to… Her hand came up to cover her heart. She didn’t have words for how much that meant to her. She hurried outside, eager to greet him, but the little white SUV wasn’t there.
She went to the gate and peered out. He hadn’t parked outside either.
She would have sworn she’d heard a car door close, though.
Glancing up and down the lane, she saw no one.
She looked again, just to be sure. But there wasn’t a soul around.
She turned back toward the house and carefully closed the gate behind her.
The little shiver of unease that slid down her spine was completely unreasonable, but she couldn’t seem to make the feeling go away.
She forced herself not to stop and check on the plants as she crossed the courtyard. She needed to get her work done.
Although the moment she sat back down at the kitchen table, her phone rang. It was Meg. She’d been meaning to call her for a couple of days. Of course, she’d checked in when she and Blane first arrived, just as she’d promised she would, but since then she’d only made time for texts here and there.
“Morning, Meggie love.”
“Good morning yourself. How are things going?”
“They couldn’t be better,” Bea said with a smile.
“You know, at some point, Beatrice Hartley, you’re going to have to tell me more about this Blane of yours. If you don’t, I might have to jump on a plane and come and meet him for myself.”
“I haven’t deliberately been holding out on you. It’s just that…”
Meg laughed. “From the sound of your voice, I can practically see little cartoon hearts floating above your head. Bea, you like him, don’t you?”
She turned to look out the window again. “Like is such a little word for such a big man.”
“Oh my God, Bea. Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Are you saying that you…” Meg stopped herself. “But how can you? You’ve only known the man just over a week and— Actually, forget that. It doesn’t matter, not if you think you’ve fallen in love with him.”
Bea shot to her feet, pressing the phone closer to her ear. “I said nothing of the kind.”
“No, of course you didn’t. I know you didn’t, but I can hear it in your voice. And if like is too small a word, what other word is there? Bea, tell me what’s going on. Tell me all about him.”
Bea’s heart was pounding. Love? That was a very big word. And yes, Blane was a very large man, but… She sat down again.
“Forget I mentioned that word,” Meg said quickly.
“I shouldn’t have done it. You have to forgive me.
You don’t even have to think about it, okay?
Let it develop in its own time. Whether it does or doesn’t, only time will tell.
For now, tell me how you’re doing. You’re having fun, aren’t you?
And you’re settling into your new house. He hasn’t derailed any of that?”
“Oh, Meg, no. He hasn’t derailed any of it, and he hasn’t taken over anything either. He’s just…” She looked around the kitchen. “He’s simply here with me.”
It was true, and somehow it was the most remarkable thing of all.
“I do love being here,” she went on. “It’s wonderful. The house feels good. I’m getting to know the village.”
She deliberately said I, although she was painfully aware that we was the word that had come to her first. None of what she loved about this new life depended on Blane. She knew that. She’d chosen the house, the village, the garden, and Crete for herself.
He simply made all of it better by being here.
“But anyway, let’s talk about you. How are you? And what about Amy and baby Molly?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Yes, I am. Please let me. I need to recover from what you said before I carry on. Is that all right?”
“Of course it is. And you know me; I’m more than happy to chatter away while you regroup. To answer your question, I’m fine. Looking forward to an invitation to come and visit you, although of course I won’t expect one until after Blane’s gone home.”
Bea’s breath caught. She knew it was coming, and it was coming all too fast. Blane had said he had three weeks. They were already into the second. She forced herself to focus as Meg continued.
“And Amy’s doing wonderfully well. The boys have been very welcoming to baby Molly.
They weren’t thrilled at the prospect of having a little sister, but Matt seems to have cast some kind of magic spell over them.
I think it involved telling them they’re big, strong protectors now and it’s their job to look after their little sister.
” Meg laughed. “And you know, I could use that to segue very nicely into asking about your Blane again, but I won’t, because you need to recover.
Oh, and because I bumped into Rosalind. She was asking after you.
I felt a little guilty that I know more than she does. ”
“Well, you shouldn’t. You’ve known more about me than my sister has since we were eight years old, Meg. Why start feeling guilty now?”
“Oh, all right. I don’t feel guilty at all, not really. But I suppose I felt a little sorry for her. She’s quite lost, you know, now that she has no one to take care of. I still can’t believe she really expected you to move into the annex, though.”
Bea closed her eyes. “I can. I love her dearly, you know that. But her version of the world is very different from mine.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s move on from that as well. But you should perhaps give her a call, Bea, at some point when you’re feeling up to it.” Meg laughed softly. “You know, after Blane’s gone.”
Bea squeezed her eyes shut. She really didn’t want to think about the time after Blane had left.
“You know, perhaps I’ll leave telling you about him until then, too. For now, I simply want to enjoy it, Meg. I don’t want to examine it, and there’s really no point. He’ll be gone soon enough; we can carry out a post-mortem then.”
“Oh, don’t say it like that, my love. You don’t really expect this thing to die when he leaves, do you? Post-mortem sounds so… terminal.”
Bea let out a short laugh. “It does, doesn’t it? And I probably used the word because it feels so awful. But I really don’t want to think about it now.” She made herself smile. “And in another change of subject, I did want to report that I signed up for Greek classes with Yiannis.”
“My heart’s breaking for you here, Bea, but if you want to change the subject, I’ll go with you.
So, good for you. Whenever we were there on holiday, you picked up bits of the language so quickly.
I’m sure you’ll do fine once you have actual lessons.
And have you seen anything more of Katerina?
Or anyone else in the village? You must give the ladies in the bakery my best when you go in.
And what about that lovely old chap at the garden center? Have you seen him?”
That made Bea smile. “We’ve seen him a couple of times now, and he and Blane seem to have struck up quite a friendship, which is funny really, because Blane doesn’t know the first thing about gardening and barely speaks two words of Greek.”
Meg laughed. “That’s how it goes sometimes, isn’t it? Some people just connect. They don’t even need a common interest or a common language.”
Bea’s smile faded into something softer. “Sounds like you’re talking about Blane and me.”
“I won’t push. But I’m here whenever you do want to talk. You know that, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
She looked up when she heard a car outside and went to the window to make sure she really had heard one this time. She had; Blane was climbing out of the little white SUV.
“Are you still there?” Meg asked.
“Sorry. Yes, I am. Blane just arrived back and…”
“Oh, I’ll let you go.”
“Bea!” Blane raised his hand and grinned when he spotted her at the window.
“What is it?” she called. “Sorry, Meg. I won’t be a second.”
“Where do you want this thing?” Blane called.
She gave him a puzzled smile. “What thing are you talking about exactly?”
He opened the back of the SUV and started hauling something out.
Bea stared in amazement as he set a small stone bench down in the courtyard, then laughed out loud when she realized what it was.
“Oh my goodness.”
“Is everything all right?” Meg asked.
“It is. I’ll call you back, okay?”
“That’s fine, as long as you tell me why.”
Bea laughed. “Blane just arrived home with the bench from the garden center. You know, the little stone one we liked to sit on beside the pond?”
“I do, but I distinctly remember that when you asked about it, the owner told us it wasn’t for sale. I remember because I was so bloody relieved you weren’t going to start trying to figure out how to ship the thing back.”
Bea laughed at the memory. “You’re right.” She stared out the window at Blane, who was hefting the little stone bench toward the edge of the terrace. “It looks as though Blane’s more persuasive than I realized. He’s just unloaded the thing outside.”