Chapter 24
The next morning, Jude awoke to the realisation that he was warm, wonderfully comfortable and . . . completely naked. His heart leapt as he realised that the woman who was still sleeping next to him – Hannah – didn’t have a stitch on, either.
The events of last night came flooding back to him, and he decided that if this was a dream, he didn’t ever want to wake up. He screwed his eyes tight shut, took a deep breath and rolled onto his side, curling into Hannah to become the big spoon.
As his skin made contact with hers, it struck him that there was no way he could be imagining this.
His brain was nowhere near creative enough to conjure a mirage this perfect; a body this soft and smooth.
He’d always loved her in the mornings – when she was still languid and loose-limbed, not yet awake to the demands of the day.
She twisted to face him, eyes still closed, and pressed her lips to his throat.
Jude groaned and pulled her closer, and then they were kissing in a way that was different to last night; less desperate, more deliberate.
This was slow and sensual, luxurious and unhurried.
God, she was ruining him, second by second, touch by touch – unstitching him at the seams. Still sleepy, acting on pure instinct, she put her hands on him, pushed him onto his back so she could—
And then there was a phone ringing. His phone.
He vowed that, when he found it, he was going to throw it out of the window.
Hannah leaned across him to retrieve his jeans from the bedroom floor. She handed them to him and he fished the phone from a pocket, only to curse aloud at the sight of the words Mum calling . . . He showed the screen to Hannah, and she grimaced.
‘Shit,’ he said. ‘She’ll be wondering where I am, and Joe and I have been summoned to lunch today. What time is it?’
‘It’s OK,’ Hannah said. ‘And . . .’ She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. ‘Half nine. I’ll put the kettle on.’ She slid out of bed and grabbed a white cotton robe from the back of the bedroom door, wrapping it around herself before leaving the room.
Five minutes later, she reappeared with two cups of tea. Jude felt a wince in his heart at the ordinariness of this; the simple loveliness of it. This time, she hadn’t asked him how he took it.
‘Everything all right?’ she asked.
‘Yeah. Fine. I’m expected at noon. She said she assumed I’d been mugged or murdered when she realised I wasn’t there.’
Hannah sniggered. ‘That was never the first thought whenever Ed didn’t come home.’
‘No, but Jane isn’t . . .’ He didn’t say controlling, but they both knew that was what he meant.
Hannah took a sip of her tea and swallowed, seeming to lose an argument with herself as she asked: ‘Where did you tell her you were?’
‘Out for a long run.’
‘Ah. Of course.’ Disappointment – hurt – briefly coloured her features before she could shake off the feelings, and he hated himself for inspiring them.
‘It’s not that I’m asham—’
‘Isn’t it?’ Hannah demanded. ‘You’re twenty-eight years old. You can do what you want, with who you want, as long as it’s legal.’
She was right. Why had he lied? He hadn’t consciously chosen to. Telling Lillian what she wanted to hear was more like a reflex he couldn’t control; it was natural to him to bend facts and information around her as far as possible, rather than confront her with the firm reality of them.
Hannah couldn’t, or maybe wouldn’t, look at him now, and her disquiet was a stark reminder that these contortions affected people other than himself.
He’d rarely considered that his habit of flexing to keep his mother happy had ramifications beyond the two of them, but the proof was right in front of him – concentrating far harder than was necessary on a mug of Yorkshire Gold.
‘Hannah,’ he said, reaching for her – gently lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes. ‘I’m not ashamed of you. I’m not ashamed of anything that’s ever happened between us, or anything we did last night. I’m thrilled about it, honestly. Was that not . . . clear?’
She gave him a small smile then, and she looked so hopeful – so young, open and unguarded – that a tremor of protectiveness went through him. The urge to make sure she was never hurt again, and especially not by him, seized Jude with a power that shocked him.
‘You know my mum has always been difficult,’ he said, ‘more so than ever now, it seems. Or maybe I’m just noticing it more after being away.
Keeping her happy – stopping her from melting down – it’s like .
. . it’s like I’m scratching an itch I’ve forgotten is there.
It’s only a problem if I catch myself doing it, or if I let the itch get too angry. ’
‘And what does Joe say about that?’ Hannah asked. He noted she was being careful not to give her own opinion on the matter, which wasn’t like her.
Jude drank some tea and thought back to the only conversation he’d had with his brother about their mum since he came back to the UK.
‘He says I took on the burden of dealing with her when we were kids – that he didn’t mean to let me and wishes things had been different for us.
He made some semi-cryptic comment about me needing to consider whether it was truly my burden to shoulder. ’
Hannah nodded. ‘Easy to forget he’s a highly qualified therapist sometimes, isn’t it? The constant mischief sort of distracts from the fact that he’s an actual doctor.’
‘It does,’ Jude agreed. ‘I’m sorry, though. I shouldn’t have lied to her just now. There was no good reason to. It was about me, not you, I promise.’
Hannah lifted her cup to her lips, seeming to accept this.
‘Also, are we . . . telling people?’ Jude asked. ‘I didn’t – don’t – know. And . . . what is there to tell? I know how I feel, but—’
‘That’s a fair question,’ Hannah admitted, interrupting him.
‘I’m not sure what I’d have told my mum if she’d been the one asking where I was this morning.
Maybe we can’t work out what this is until we’ve fully worked out if we can fix what broke between us before.
There are things we should talk about – properly – but I’m not sure now’s the time, with the wedding only two weeks away. ’
‘So, we say nothing to anyone?’
‘No, not for now. If we admit that anything’s happened between us it’ll just cause stress.
Ed’s definitely on the edge as it is. He’s told me different, but if he thinks things between you and I could kick off at any moment, that’ll just be something else for him to worry about – and that’s not fair. ’
‘OK. Does that mean . . .?’
‘We go back to being not-quite-friends? Exes who happen to be in the same wedding party? Yes,’ Hannah told him, almost looking as if she enjoyed the prospect of this skulduggery.
‘As far as everyone else is concerned, over the next fortnight you’ll barely be tolerating me.
You will be polite but indifferent to my presence, if we’re in the same room. ’
‘How am I going to manage that?’ Jude said with an incredulous laugh. ‘I’m a useless liar, Joe’s like a walking polygraph machine and I . . . I have never, not for a single second of my life, been indifferent to you.’
She grinned and leaned over to kiss him. He pulled her into his arms, buried his hands in her hair and then paused. ‘Are we not banned from doing this now?’ he asked. ‘This isn’t not-quite-friends behaviour.’
‘Still such a square, even when nobody’s looking,’ she said affectionately, tracing his cheekbone with her thumb. ‘I said, as far as everyone else is concerned. Do you see anyone else here?’
‘Good point,’ he conceded, and tugged at the tie of her robe.
An hour later, showered and dressed in yesterday’s clothes, Jude was on the point of leaving when Hannah’s door buzzer sounded.
‘Expecting someone?’ he asked, following her from the bedroom towards her kitchen.
‘No,’ she said, frowning. She was still in her dressing gown. ‘Let me see who it is.’
She pressed the button on the intercom by the flat door, only for Charlie’s voice to float through the tinny speaker.
‘Hannah, have you seen it?’ she said without preamble. ‘I’ve been calling you all morning.’
‘What? What am I supposed to have seen?’ Hannah asked, nonplussed.
‘Fuck. This is bad,’ Charlie said, audibly panicked. ‘Let me up.’
‘OK.’ Suddenly pale, Hannah released the door lock and then glanced around the room.
After locating her handbag, she dug inside it for her mobile.
‘Bollocks. Twenty-two missed calls,’ she said, brandishing the handset in Jude’s direction.
‘And . . . oh my god. Over a hundred social media notifications. What the hell . . .?’
Jude considered asking whether he should hide before Charlie arrived, but the idea felt ridiculous. It was also clear that something serious had happened. Based on what he’d seen of Charlie so far, the woman was pretty unflappable – yet she’d sounded thoroughly rattled just now.
There was a sharp rap at Hannah’s front door and she opened it immediately.
Charlie stepped inside, looked from Hannah to Jude and back again, then said: ‘Right. I guess this explains why you weren’t answering your phone. We’ll come back to it later.’ She eyed Hannah beadily. ‘For now . . . are you happy for him to hear this?’
‘Hear what?’ Hannah said. ‘And yes, he can hear. Please, just tell me . . . what on earth’s going on?’
‘Marc is what’s going on,’ Charlie spat, incensed.
‘Oh, fuck,’ Hannah said, sinking onto one of the stools that sat beneath her kitchen worktop. ‘The countdown. I assume we now know what he was counting down to . . .?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Er . . . sorry,’ Jude said. ‘I’m confused. What countdown? And Marc’s the idiot from the engagement party, yes?’
Hannah nodded.
‘I thought he’d gone away,’ Jude continued, annoyed. ‘I thought you’d told him you were keeping records, that you were going to take steps if he didn’t stop bothering you.’
‘I did tell him that,’ Hannah said. ‘It was good advice. And he did go quiet for a while, but . . .’