Chapter 16
16
It feels illicit to wake up in the same room as Jamie this morning, knowing what we did last night. We snuck back in as the sun was coming up, giggling like teenagers.
He must feel my gaze on him, because he opens one eye halfway and mumbles, ‘Morning.’
‘Morning,’ I whisper, with a smile. It was a bold move to share a bed, but we did it last night and things were fine. I really don’t think anybody is going to come up here. The crucial point is that we cannot have sex in the bed: the thin walls and wooden floors wouldn’t allow for that. But who cares if we spoon as everyone else sleeps? We’ve got mere days until this holiday is over, and nobody has come up here first thing in the morning, ever.
I daren’t risk lying here whispering sweet nothings, though.
‘I’m going to get up,’ I say, ‘whilst I have the will power.’
Jamie smiles, and I scramble out of bed to start the day. As I climb over him, though, he grabs my arm and grins. When he plants a kiss on my hand, my heart does a double-beat leap in my chest, before plummeting to my stomach and back up again. I roll my eyes at him playfully and head to the bathroom. I’ve finally had the kind of sex I’ve only ever seen onscreen. I didn’t know real people could have it. I ache between my thighs, but it’s a nice ache, like a reminder he was there.
There’s a light knock on the bathroom door as I brush my teeth, and Jamie stands there in his boxers, all dishevelled and more handsome than ever.
‘Room for a little one?’
I smile, careful not to let toothpaste spill onto my chin, and watch in the mirror as he wets his brush, pops on some toothpaste, wets it again and then puts the brush in his mouth. I wonder how many women have seen this side of him. The off-guard, first-thing-in-the-morning side. Jamie looks up and we hold eye-contact through our reflections, brushing our teeth like the domesticity of it is the most normal thing in the world. I feel something inside my chest swell, but I spit into the sink instead of acknowledging it, rinsing my mouth and then washing my face. I have four more days to enjoy this, and I’m not going to start self-monitoring about what every little butterfly means, so that I’m back in my head and end up diminishing the passion. I’m getting him out of my system, giving in to the physical, so that it no longer has to be this weird ‘almost’ thing between us.
‘Whatcha thinking?’ Jamie asks, rinsing off his toothbrush and wiping his face clean.
I get in an eyeful of his body, openly appraising him, because I can.
‘Wondering how we might get a moment alone today,’ I say, lips pursed in playfulness.
‘Are you now?’ he asks, and we’re both whispering, knowing we can’t get caught.
‘Damned right I am,’ I say, slapping his butt.
Downstairs there’s a note on the table: Gone to the ruins. Fair play – it’s mid-morning already. Our late night meant we both slept in, so no wonder nobody hung around. I wonder if Alex got up with them, despite his own adventures last night. He’s never been able to sleep in, even as a teenager. They will have gone quite early, I reckon, to beat the heat, and Mum likes it when I get my rest. She will have told everyone to let me sleep. I stick my head out of the kitchen door, to look around the pool. Nobody is there.
‘Where is everyone?’ asks Jamie, pulling on his shirt as he rounds the corner to where I’m standing. When he sees me admiring him, he pauses and then doesn’t do up the rest of the buttons. I wink. My way of saying: You understand. Good. Let me see.
‘They’ve left for the day,’ I tell him, and my cheeks could fall off from smiling so wide.
Jamie arches an eyebrow. ‘Interesting,’ he ponders.
‘That’s what I thought,’ I reply.
He sidles over to me and says, voice low, ‘Is it safe for me to give you a morning kiss, then?’
I push my face closer to his.
‘It might well be …’ I say. And then I think, Wait. I really should check for Alex.
Jamie puts his face between my hands and holds it there for a beat, like he can’t believe our luck. We’re nose-to-nose and then he gently puts his mouth on mine, and it is delicate, like this second alone is a treat to be savoured – which it is. He’s absolutely right.
‘Hold that thought,’ I whisper, slipping from his grasp and doing a quick sweep of the rooms downstairs and then upstairs. Nobody is here. I hot-foot it back to him.
‘Coast is clear,’ I say. ‘Now. Where were we?’
We kiss, and it’s cute. But I can feel myself getting heated, so as hard as it is, I pull away. We stand there, not knowing what to do next, my pelvis aching. I look down. Jamie clearly has a boner. The thin fabric of his swim shorts is held up like a tent.
‘Can’t help it,’ he says, holding up his hands in surrender. ‘I honestly could take you here and now. That is what you do to me.’
I feel that way too. It’s like our bodies are designed to slot together seamlessly. Having sex with Jamie feels like the reason I have a body. Most of the time I’m just a brain in a meat suit, but when his hands were on me last night, when he was pressed up against me and then inside me … nothing else mattered.
‘Sod it,’ I say, pulling at the fabric of his shirt. His body slams into mine with such force that my bum bangs into the kitchen table, but Jamie treats it as an invitation. He scoops me up so I’m sitting, and we paw at each other hungrily, like one of us is on day-release from prison, like we’ve not seen each other in years, like we not only want this, but need this.
I end up on my back, Jamie climbing onto the table. He lies down on top of me, kissing and touching and running his hand below the waistband of my denim shorts, which at some point in the last thirty seconds have come undone.
‘Yes,’ I tell him, as his fingers find my most alive spot. ‘Yes.’
I writhe underneath him, his breath hot in my ear, and I must kick something, because there’s a crash, the noise of pottery hitting the floor.
‘Don’t stop!’ I implore, as Jamie freezes above me. He’s looking over at the doorway, face in a weird expression, a bit like he might be sick. I crane my neck, Jamie’s hand still between my thighs, to see … Kate. My whole body tenses, and I swear every ounce of air leaves my lungs.
‘Kate!’ I say. ‘This isn’t—’
‘I didn’t see anything!’ she interrupts, spinning round so that her back is to us.
Jamie moves his hand and I button up my shorts as he clambers off. I swing my legs over the side of the table and say, with as much authority as I can muster, ‘This is the first time anything like this has happened.’
I don’t know why I lie. It just slips out.
Kate half turns her head, but not fully. She’s already scarred by what she’s seen.
‘It’s none of my business,’ she tells us. ‘I didn’t feel well, so I didn’t go with the others … I’ve been for a walk …’ She shakes her head. She’s giving us too much information. ‘I’m going to the supermarket now. I said I’d have a late lunch ready. Bye.’ And she disappears.
I scrunch up my face at Jamie, noting that he is adorably flushed.
‘At least it wasn’t Laurie,’ he says. ‘Although if she tells him … Well, it should come from me.’
I shake my head. ‘She won’t tell him,’ I promise Jamie. ‘Not if I ask Kate not to. She said it herself: it’s none of her business.’
‘Okay.’ He sounds unsure. ‘I need to find the right words, the right time …’
‘Ssssh. Come here,’ I command him, and he steps towards me. I tilt my chin up and he gets the hint. He lowers his lips to mine and we share a chaste kiss.
‘I have rather lost my hard-on now, though,’ I say, my face apologetic. ‘For lack of a better term. Nothing to do with you, it’s just …’
‘Yeah,’ Jamie nods. ‘Close call.’
He swallows, finally catching his breath, and I hop up to kiss his cheek.
‘Breakfast?’ I ask, and he nods.
‘What’s it like?’ I ask Jamie, as we sit amongst a small feast that we’ve made for ourselves. This holiday basically revolves around meals.
‘What’s what like?’ Jamie replies, peeling an orange. It’s scandalous to me, how he can walk around with hands as skilled as those, peeling fruit so that his forearm muscles flex and he gets juice all over his fingers.
‘Sailing,’ I say, buttering my toast. It’s very civilised of us to be sitting here, but with Kate due back any minute, it’s for the best. Plus … I suppose Jamie and I don’t actually know much about each other, because there’s always been this weird distance. I mean, if Laurie told him to stay away from me, I guess I know why. ‘I couldn’t tell if everyone was teasing me when they said how much money you made.’
Jamie laughs. ‘Yeah, I fell on my feet there, to be honest. Although, well, there’s no way to say this without sounding like an idiot, but I don’t really need to work. My parents …’ He trails off, and it takes me a second to understand what he’s getting at.
‘That doesn’t make you sound like an idiot,’ I tell him. ‘Christ, I’m sure you’d rather have them here than have their money.’
‘Yes,’ he nods. ‘Exactly.’ There’s a silence then, but I get the sense the worst thing to do would be to change the subject.
‘What were they like?’ I say. ‘If you don’t mind me asking.’
He’s wearing his sunglasses, so I can’t see his full reaction, but he lets air out through his nose and half smiles, so I think he appreciates being asked. I’d want to be asked, if the unthinkable happened; when it does, I suppose. It doesn’t bear imagining, a world without my mum and dad.
‘Mental,’ he says, and then he laughs. It makes me smile. ‘They were absolutely mental. Just … I was so lucky, really. Most people’s parents were so serious to me, you know? Everything was about doing well at school and getting into a top uni, and shaping yourself to be a good working man with a good salary. But they never put value on those things. They really gave me their time, you know? Really wanted to see me, and encouraged me to be the most me I could be. Mum would get on the floor and play Lego with me for hours, and Dad took me to the local reservoir for outdoor swimming as soon as I was old enough to get in. And they had all these routines and rituals. If anyone had to go away for work, or even when I had a sleepover or away-camp or whatever, we’d all sit down for Mum’s lasagne and garlic bread, first chance we were all back together.’
‘You don’t have siblings?’ I ask, although I already know the answer. It’s just that most of the stuff I know about Jamie is second-hand, from Laurie or Mum and Dad.
He shakes his head. ‘It was only the three of us. I still have Mum’s dad – my grandad – and my dad’s stepmother is still alive, and there’s some aunties and uncles and cousins who we’d see a few times a year. But under our roof, in our house, it was simply us. And I didn’t need any more, I never longed for a brother or anything like that. I was just so, so loved.’
‘I wish I could have met them,’ I say. ‘They sound like they knew what life is all about.’
‘Yeah,’ Jamie nods. ‘I keep trying to find that feeling somewhere else, you know? That feeling of being safe. You asked what it’s like – sailing – and it’s amazing. I love the physicality of it, and obviously all the different places I get to see. It’s awesome to see your brother and Kate doing so well, but after Mum and Dad had their accident, I couldn’t see the point of giving my life to the law. I have the opposite problem that most people in their twenties have, I think. I don’t need to prove to my parents what a great job they’ve done, by being a good workhorse. I know what they’d want for me is to be free. To follow what feels good for as long as I enjoy it. But I want both: freedom and safety.’
I nod, contemplating that.
‘I’m envious,’ I tell him. ‘My world is the two square miles from my flat to campus. I don’t do much adventuring. I think I’m too safe.’
Jamie pours us both more coffee. ‘You’ll get there,’ he says. ‘I believe in you.’
‘Thanks,’ I reply. ‘I’m a very anxious person. I feel like you don’t have all the answers, but at least you know how to switch your brain off and be in your body. The only time I’ve done that lately is—’ I pause. I cannot believe I nearly said: the only time I did that lately is when I had sex with you.
‘What?’ he asks.
I shake my head. ‘When I’m running,’ I lie, and he accepts my conclusion.
‘A lot of people think the opposite of anxiety is calm,’ Jamie says. ‘But I don’t think it is. I think the opposite of anxiety is trust.’
‘Trust sounds a lot like safety to me …’ I comment.
He nods. ‘I think you’re right. Tomahto, tomayto.’
‘And so that’s what you meant the other morning, when we went for a run? That you thought I – out of everyone – would understand how you feel?’
‘Yes,’ Jamie says. ‘It’s weird. The safest I’ve felt lately has been—’ He stops himself. I swear to god, I get a flash that he might allude to feeling safe when he’s with me, but exactly like I did, he reins it in.
‘Yes?’ I say, throat dry.
‘When I’m running,’ he settles on, and I feel like there’s an elephant in the room with us, but neither of us is going to acknowledge it.
‘Here’s to running then,’ I say, holding my coffee cup aloft in cheers.
He holds his cup up, too.
‘To how good it feels to run,’ he says.
We sit in companionable silence then, drinking our coffees and looking at the sun shimmering off the pool, and I think: God! My preconceptions about Jamie really have been all wrong. I made myself think he was an arse, a womaniser and unserious about anything that matters, off on his boats and never settling down. And then the second I gave him a chance, he blew it – confirming that my instinct was right. But it wasn’t. That isn’t who he is. Jamie is thoughtful and loyal, and is just trying to get through a day as best he can, like the rest of us. He’s reassuringly human. I don’t know how I missed that.
Kate comes home then, and we become a three. I don’t mind the interruption actually. If Jamie and I were alone for much longer, I get the feeling we’d have started to say things that really would be best left unsaid. He’s got me all up in my feelings, now that I see the real him.
‘Okay,’ Kate whispers to me as we float on matching swans next to each other in the pool, shopping unloaded and more coffee consumed. Jamie is inside, washing the breakfast plates. ‘I’m going nuts over here, babe. You’re going to have to fill in at least a few details. I beg you.’
‘Kate,’ I say, my voice low. I don’t want Jamie to hear, but obviously I don’t want anyone else in my family to hear, either, should they arrive back earlier than planned. ‘I cannot emphasise this enough: it was a moment of madness. I don’t know what we were thinking, and I’m sorry you had to see it.’
I scoop up a bit of water with my hand and pour it over my tummy to cool me down. It is hot today.
‘An eleven a.m. hump-sesh in the middle of a family holiday home?’ Kate whispers back, her voice incredulous. I have to note that her whisper is more of a stage-whisper, so is not very discreet at all. It’s a good reminder not to tell her everything.
‘Like I said: madness.’
‘I don’t buy it.’ She lowers her sunglasses and peers over their rim. ‘Jamie has fancied you for years , Flo.’
I look in the opposite direction to where she’s floating, because my face will give too much away. ‘Hmmm …’ I say, knowing anything else is too dangerous.
Kate keeps talking. Nothing will deter her. ‘Something happened at Christmas, didn’t it? More than you’ve told me?’
I keep examining the trees over at the far side of the garden, near the steps to the beach. I know I’m blushing, a hot rash of embarrassment creeping up my neck to my cheeks.
‘Flo,’ she implores. ‘ Did something happen at Christmas?’
‘No,’ I tell her, because it’s more or less the truth. ‘No more than an almost.’
‘But something is happening now?’
I shake my head. ‘Kind of,’ I end up saying, and as soon as the words leave my lips, Kate launches on them.
‘Really!’ she squeals. And Jamie is no idiot: he’s going to know full well we’re talking about him. I wish he’d come and rescue me from this Spanish Inquisition, but he’s probably giving us a wide berth so that I can convince Kate to keep our secret, like I promised she would.
‘Ssssh!’ I tell her. ‘Jesus, look. Just promise me you won’t tell Laurie, okay? Jamie is really worried he’ll be mad, and although I personally think Laurie can go screw himself, Jamie actually cares what Laurie thinks and doesn’t want to jeopardise their friendship, or whatever.’
Kate furrows her brow. ‘But … if this is happening, Laurie is going to find out eventually? You have my word I won’t say anything, because I understand it’s none of my business, but starting a relationship in secret doesn’t seem smart to me. At least not if the secret goes on for too long. And you don’t want Laurie finding out by walking in on you, like I did …’
‘No, no, no,’ I wave an arm about, batting away her commentary. ‘It’s not that deep. There’s no “relationship”.’ I put air-quotes around that, with my two bunny ears. I can tell Kate isn’t impressed. Maybe I’ve misread her. I thought she’d find it exciting, and exotic. She looks concerned.
‘He travels the world for a living, I live in Scotland. He’s Laurie’s best friend – there’s no future or whatever … We both know that.’
I bite my lip. I can’t believe she’s managing to get all of this out of me.
‘We hooked up,’ I tell her. ‘Finally. Yesterday. After the bar. And I want it to happen again, and it’s all quite a relief, because my dislike of Jamie – or whatever it was – took too much effort to maintain. But it won’t happen again after this holiday. Okay? That’s why Laurie doesn’t need to know. It’s a short-term fling that means, in the long term, we’ll be able to actually get on, because we’ve got it out of our systems.’
Kate laughs. ‘The plan is to shag each other, so that you eventually don’t want to shag any more?’
I don’t know what to say to that. It sounded better in my head.
‘Just … don’t tell Laurie. You promised, okay?’
‘I did,’ Kate tells me. ‘You’re going to have hot sex with hot Jamie, and in a few days you’ll forget it ever happened.’
‘Exactly,’ I nod.
‘Flo?’ Kate says, after a while.
‘Yes?’
‘You’re living in a dream world. You know that, don’t you?’
I float away from her, not dignifying the comment with a response. Does she mean that we won’t stop shagging? Or that I’m dreaming to think Laurie won’t find out?
Either way, she’s wrong.