TWENTY-NINE
WHEN THE MIST CLEARS
Alex
‘You won’t need a toothbrush,’ I said. ‘I have a spare.’
‘You do? Should I be concerned?’
He was teasing me, I knew. I slipped my good arm through his. ‘It is for moments just like this. I even bought some body wash for you.’
He moved his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him and kissing the top of my head. ‘You’ve got it all covered, haven’t you?’
‘I try.’ I snuggled into his body, barely noticing the tenderness in my shoulder.
A flashlight lit up the path ahead of us, coming our way.
Oliver raised his torch higher, lighting up the figure.
It was Henderson. I involuntarily squeezed tighter to Oliver’s body.
I had spent the past twenty-four hours going over what had happened up on the hill and whether I had imagined the intentional push or not.
I couldn’t quite get my head around it and had begun to doubt myself.
And then in a moment’s clarity, I was certain it had happened.
But, as before, it was my word against his, and I hated that he could mess with my mind in this way.
‘Fletcher,’ muttered Oliver under his breath. Then in a louder voice that clearly lacked any warmth. ‘All right, Fletcher.’
‘Evening,’ said Henderson, now glancing his torch over the two of us. He never called Oliver Boss like all the others did. I wondered if Oliver had noticed. ‘Didn’t mean to surprise you. I’m just out for a quick stroll.’
Oliver hadn’t taken his arm from around my shoulder, and I knew Henderson had noticed. ‘Enjoy,’ he said.
‘I will. Goodnight.’ He nodded at Oliver. ‘Night, Alex.’
I mumbled a goodnight and was relieved that Oliver had no intention of making small talk.
Inside our cabin, I locked the door behind us with the key and then slid the bolt across the top that I had bought in Risk and fitted without mentioning it to anyone.
I’d done the same with the back door of the lodge and the windows.
Oliver took off his jacket and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair.
‘I’ll order some upgrades,’ he said, looking at the lock.
My heart expanded a little at his no-fuss reaction.
He didn’t get all heavy and ask why I needed extra locks or why I hadn’t gone to him or Dom about it.
He understood, he accepted, and he didn’t ever demand anything from me that I wasn’t happy to give freely.
That meant so much more to me than I could ever articulate.
And I knew he was finding it tough, going against his natural way of dealing with stuff.
I didn’t say anything. Just smiled a small thank you.
That night, I slept better than I ever had in two years, despite a few sore limbs.
Waking up in the morning, with Oliver holding me, made everything feel perfect.
I could have stayed there all day. Sadly, I knew reality wouldn’t wait for us.
We made love again, and it was beautiful.
Last night, I wasn’t sure if that feeling of something shifting between us, that deepening of emotion, had just been a one-off.
I needn’t have worried. It was still there in the morning.
After a quick shower—no lingering with the body wash this time—he had to go.
‘I don’t want Noah to wake up and not know where I am.’
‘Of course. Not a problem. You go.’ I gave him a quick kiss as he pulled on his jacket.
He paused at the worktop. ‘Cookies?’
‘I made them for Noah.’
‘I think I should taste test them.’ He swiped up a cookie and popped it in his mouth.
‘Hey, I’ll tell Noah.’ I flicked the tea towel at him. ‘Go on. I’ll see you at twelve. I’ll come over to you.’
We were heading out with Noah for the afternoon.
Someone Oliver knew at RAF Lossiemouth had offered to show Noah around a couple of the aircraft.
After that, we were going to get some lunch and then take a drive out to spot some deer or cattle.
It wasn’t exactly outdoors exploring weather for an eight-year-old, or for a thirty-something-year-old with an injured arm, but it’s what he had wanted to do.
Oliver had compromised and said they’d try to spot some wildlife from the car.
There hadn’t been any fresh snow for several days now, but it still sat at the edges of paths and the roads. On the higher ground, it was still very much there. But the dark days of mid-winter were definitely shifting as the days became a little longer and the snowstorms had eased.
As my arm was still in the sling and apparently I wasn’t allowed to take it out for at least another three days, I had been officially told to take time off.
I wasn’t good at doing nothing and realised I was a much worse patient than Grainger.
I pottered around in the lodge, tidying up, not that I made much mess on my own, but it was something I liked to do.
I liked the order of everything being in its place.
I went to the bedroom. My holdall and rucksack were on the floor. I picked them up and put them inside the wardrobe, shutting the door. Oliver had glanced at them when we’d gone to bed the night before but hadn’t commented.
It was still an hour before we were going out, so I made a coffee and picked up my book to read.
I’d bought a new one when I was in Risk recently and had donated the Hilary Mantel one to the charity shop.
I hadn’t wanted to touch it, let alone read it, after Henderson had said about it.
I was reading a Ken Follett book instead, which I was aware I had taken to putting away in the bedside drawer when I wasn’t reading it.
I knew why, but I didn’t want to address it.
As I went to sit down, I glanced out of the front window of the lodge. The loch didn’t look so grey in the soft daylight as it had in December. But I was sure it was just as cold.
I saw Buddy bound along the shoreline, splashing at the edge of the water and picking something up. I moved position a bit and could see Noah down there. He ran after Buddy, who dropped whatever he’d picked up. It was a ball. Noah threw it again, and both boy and dog chased after it.
I strained to see who was with Noah. I could just see Oliver and Dom standing on the bank, in what looked like a deep conversation.
I sipped my coffee and returned to watching Noah and Buddy.
Two lovely souls who had both stolen my heart in different ways.
Noah was laughing and calling Buddy, his coat done up and hat and gloves on, but he was thoroughly enjoying being outside.
All the freedom and space of Risk Estate at his fingertips. Such a lucky boy.
He looked over my way and spotted me, waving wildly. I put my cup down and waved back. Then he came running over, followed by Buddy.
‘You look like you’re having fun,’ I said as I opened the door.
‘I’m teaching Buddy a new trick. I tell him to wait and then I hide the ball, and he has to find it.’
‘I know, I was watching. You’re doing a good job training him.’ I remembered the cookies sitting on the side. ‘Would you like a chocolate chip cookie? I baked them for you.’
Noah nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, please.’
‘Come in, they’re just here.’ Noah followed me in, taking off his gloves and pushing them into his pocket. ‘Take a couple,’ I said. ‘You can save one for later.’
‘Thank you. Dad said you were good at baking.’ He bit into the first one, and a small shower of crumbs fell down the front of his coat.
‘I hope you like it.’
‘I’ve got something for you,’ he said, fishing in his pocket.
He pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it out to me, suddenly looking shy.
‘Thank you,’ I said, opening it out. My heart did a funny little skip.
It was the family day-out picture he’d shown me on FaceTime.
‘Oh, Noah. I love this so much.’ I put my arm out, and he came in for the hug.
A tight hug. One that said so much more than any words.
He pulled away, still looking a little shy.
‘I’m going to put it on the fridge,’ I said. ‘I can look at it every day.’
I took his smile as approval.
‘I’ll show you my trick now with Buddy. Watch me,’ he said brightly.
Both Noah and the dog disappeared from the lodge. I went to the door and watched dutifully as he played a game of hide-the-ball with Buddy.
After a minute or so, he must have got fed up with that game and started throwing the ball for Buddy to fetch.
I finished my coffee and went through to the kitchen to rinse my cup.
It was then I noticed a small square of cloth on the floor.
It was pale blue with faded cartoon dinosaurs on it.
It must have fallen out of Noah’s pocket when he gave me the drawing.
Bless him. He obviously liked to keep it with him.
I popped the blanky on the worktop. I’d take it with me when I went out with him and Oliver later.
It was still too early to go over to the gatehouse. Something made me look out at the loch again where Noah and Buddy were still playing. They weren’t alone. My heart gave a flutter.
It was Henderson. He was talking to Noah.
I looked back at where Oliver and Dom were.
Still deep in conversation. They were looking at the gatehouse, their backs to the water.
Dom was pointing at the roof, and Oliver was holding a big sheet of paper in his hands—architect drawings, I imagined.
He had told me about some work he wanted doing on the gatehouse.
I looked back at Noah. Henderson was resting his hands on his knees, so he was at Noah’s level. He was then pointing back towards the pontoon.
Oliver and Dom were still distracted.
I moved to the door, stepping out onto the porch, my eyes never leaving Noah and Henderson. I went down the steps. I was walking towards them.
Then Henderson put his hand on Noah’s back and guided him towards the pontoon, away from Oliver. I started jogging, keeping my arm close to my body. Then I broke into a run.
‘Noah!’ I shouted, the wind taking my word in the opposite direction. ‘Noah!’
He hadn’t heard me. I was sprinting now, ignoring the ache in my knee, the jolt of my arm and the discomfort of my shoulder. Noah. I had to get to him. I glanced across towards the gatehouse. Oliver and Dom had both turned. In that split second, I saw Oliver take it in.
Me, now running full pelt towards the pontoon that Henderson was just leading Noah onto. Oliver discarded the drawings and started moving. Sprinting. Fast. I heard him shout Noah’s name. His voice was louder than mine but still had to battle with the wintry breeze that had picked up.