EIGHTEEN #2
‘I know it’s a two-way thing. We don’t get to our age without some kind of baggage.’
I thought of her unpacked holdall in the wardrobe.
There was a very specific reason for that.
I thought of Marsha and what a fuck up my marriage had been.
One of the things I hadn’t been able to fix.
I thought about how I felt when I was around Alex.
It was different. I didn’t know why, and to be honest, that unnerved me a little bit. I had to keep a handle on everything.
She got up from the table and walked around to the kitchen area, placing her cup in the sink. A delaying tactic while she thought things through. I watched her but didn’t say anything. She had her back to me, her hand resting on either side of the sink.
‘You don’t have to take this any further if you don’t want to.’
Fuck. Who hurt her so bad? I got to my feet and went to her, my hands resting on the upper part of her arms. ‘I’m not looking for an exit.’
She turned to face me. ‘Okay. Let’s see how we go.’
I leaned in and kissed her. ‘There are multiple choices.’
She smiled and wrapped her arms around me. ‘Much as I would like to take the multiple-choice quiz, right now I have a grumpy Falklands veteran waiting for me.’
I groaned. ‘That’s definitely one way to kill the moment.’
‘Whatever thought you had just then, hold it.’
I was glad she sounded more relaxed now, and I left her to get on with what she needed to do while I went to empty the post box and get ready to head back to London. It was not an encouraging thought.
I walked down to the post box. I needed some fresh air. I usually kept fit by running every other day, but I didn’t this morning. Although the alternative workout was a far better choice.
I opened the post box. Two letters. One for me and one for Alex.
I flipped the envelope over and couldn’t help wondering what it was.
It felt like a leaflet or something. It really wasn’t my business.
But… who even knew she was here? The same person who sent the flowers?
Had to admit, the thought pissed me off.
As I neared the lodges, I could see Alex was in with Grainger. The curtains were open and the interior light on. She looked like she was making him do his physio.
I popped the letter in the mailbox on the side of her lodge and made my way to the gatehouse.
I had a few calls to make, to follow up on last night and thank the organisers.
There had been a charity auction after we had left, and I’d left a silent bid on a boat trip around the harbour and donated a prize of a night up at Risk Lodge when it was open. I just needed to go over a few details.
An hour later, my bag was packed and in the back of the car. Paddy was giving the vehicle a check over before we left while I called over to see Grainger.
‘You’ve just missed her,’ he said.
‘I was coming to see you, actually. How are you?’
‘I’ll be all right once this fucking thing is off my foot.’ He raised his leg as if I needed clarification. ‘Shame it wasn’t off this weekend. I might have joined you last night.’
‘Yeah. Shame.’ It absolutely was not a shame.
‘Mind you, I wouldn’t have wanted to cramp your style.’
He looked at me, thoroughly enjoying his goading.
‘I’ll be back next weekend. Hopefully you’ll have that boot off by then.’
‘Boss.’
I left the lodge, wondering how on earth Alex and I were actually going to navigate whatever it was we had going on.
It was bad enough with just Grainger here.
I could only hope that the more staff and clients arrived, the less attention would be on what we were doing.
I could shoulder it. Just wasn’t sure Alex could.
I reached her lodge and knocked on the door. A couple of seconds later, she opened it. I could tell straight away something was off. She stood in the doorway, her expression both panic and sadness at the same time.
‘Alex?’
‘I was thinking,’ she said quickly. ‘About us. Maybe it’s not right. Maybe it was a mistake. Me coming here. Taking the job.’
What the fuck was she talking about? This was not the parting I was expecting.
‘Can I come in?’ I asked, making sure my tone was gentle.
She hesitated, and for a minute I thought she was going to close the door on me, but she stepped aside.
I went into the lodge. Four things hit me simultaneously.
The flowers were nowhere to be seen. The letter I’d delivered was face down on the table.
A sealed envelope with my name on it was propped up against the now empty vase.
And her holdall and rucksack were on the floor.
Her go-bag. Packed. She was about to run.
She stood there by the closed front door.
‘Were you really going to abandon Grainger?’ I asked.
‘He doesn’t need me anymore. He gets the boot off on Tuesday. I was going to book him a taxi.’
‘Is that how you were planning on leaving? By taxi?’
‘Yes.’
‘Were you planning on telling me any of this?’ I could feel the frustration rising inside me. She really was going to do a fucking daylight flit.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her hands fidgeting at her sides.
‘Do I get to know why you’ve done a complete about-turn?’ I was pushing, I knew I was, but I needed to know.
‘It’s not for me. Risk. Scotland.’
‘Bullshit.’
She let out a sigh, looked up at the ceiling and blinked hard. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Where are you going?’ I tried a different tactic.
She shrugged. Looked down. ‘Sorry.’ I walked over to the table and picked up the letter. ‘Oliver. Please.’
It was too late. I had already seen it. A printed image of Alex and me going into the Harbour Bar the previous night. Taken from a distance. Probably on a phone. Crudely printed on a piece of A4 paper from a home printer. Nothing else. No message.
Some of the pennies dropped. I didn’t have the whole picture, but I could work it out. The ability to pack up her life at a moment’s notice and come to Risk. The anonymous bunch of flowers. The empty wardrobe. The go-bag. And now the picture.
I moved to stand in front of her. I didn’t trust myself to touch her. I wouldn’t want to let go if I did.
‘Lexi,’ I said quietly. She looked up at me. ‘You’re safer here than anywhere else. I’m not going to ask you to stay. But I am going to ask you to trust me.’