Chapter 4
FOUR
The light summer breeze ruffled my hair, and I tucked it behind my ear, unable to stop myself from anxiously fiddling with it, along with the bracelet on my wrist, which I couldn’t seem to stop from looping and unlooping around my fingertip.
Every few seconds, I found my gaze flicking back towards the house, homing in on the window of the spare room.
Jade had drawn the curtains against the setting sun, perhaps exhausted from the high emotion of the day, or maybe in an attempt to settle Amala, who’d been fractious and grizzly when I’d taken a tray of supper in.
The thought of her sleeping in the room that had always been reserved for my grandmother – the woman I’d begged to stay just one more night each time she left, who had read me stories at bedtime, something I’d never experienced with my mother, and baked the most delicious cakes on the planet – was beyond uncomfortable to imagine.
There was a part of me that wanted to keep it as a shrine to her, that imagined the vanilla smell of her hand cream wafting from the drawer in the bedside cabinet each time it was opened.
But none of the other bedrooms were in any fit state to house guests right now, and I didn’t have time to prepare them.
It would only be for a few days anyway… Jade would be gone before I knew it.
I hadn’t been able to stop myself from coming out here to check the lane, though my instincts had screamed at me to stay inside and bolt the doors, protect myself no matter what.
But the unknown was worse. I couldn’t stop picturing Ryan out here, leaning casually back in the driver’s seat of his parked car, just waiting to catch my eye and wink, a sign that the game was only just beginning.
I was grateful – not for the first time – that the house was on its own up here at the end of the dead-end road, with the exception of Aaron, of course.
There was no way for someone to casually drive by, watching me as they passed.
Just a narrow country lane, low nettle bushes opposite the two houses, and farmer’s fields beyond, all filled with ripe strawberries offering no place to hide.
I was safe here, I reminded myself. Well, I had been.
‘Hello, beautiful!’
I snapped my head up, my heart racing at the sound of the male voice, though I recognised it at once, and came face to face with Aaron as he pushed open his gate, his warm eyes searching mine as if he’d asked a question I’d neglected to answer.
He’d long since given up inviting me to come on an evening stroll with him, though he often commented on how lovely the village looked at dusk.
‘Oh, hi.’ My voice sounded shaky, and I cleared my throat. I forced a smile to my lips. ‘Just the person! I meant to tell you earlier, I finished that birdhouse – the one with the badger carvings.’
‘Great. You figured out how to balance it, then?’
I nodded, gesturing for him to follow me, and he pushed the gate open, walking a few steps behind me.
I forced myself to keep my pace steady, not slowing to make him pass, ignoring the fact that I felt as though I was being stalked in my own garden.
I kept my eyes straight ahead, refusing to glance again at Jade’s window.
I knew I should tell him. Any sensible person would.
What was the point in having a policeman living next door if I didn’t call on him for favours from time to time?
And he would want to know. I swallowed. If I shared with him that I was harbouring a victim of abuse, a vulnerable young mother – and that in her need to protect her daughter, she might have led danger on a whole greater level to my doorstep – he would help.
He would know what to do. But I knew beyond doubt that I couldn’t say a word.
I couldn’t risk the consequences that might follow.
‘Yes,’ I said, my voice scratchy. I cleared my throat again.
Usually, I made weighty, removable stands – huge twisted pillars of polished oak that screwed into the base of the birdhouses.
But lately the hanging birdhouses I made, suspended by a thick chain from the bough of a tree or a pergola, had grown in popularity.
And if I didn’t get the design of the house perfectly balanced, it would lean too heavily to one side.
‘I added a couple of hares to the opposite edge,’ I said. ‘That did the trick.’
‘I knew you’d work it out.’
I walked down the path past the house, through the arched gateway and on towards the workshop, opening the latch and stepping into the gloom.
Behind me, I heard Aaron take a deep breath, knowing exactly what he was smelling.
The scent of sawdust and varnish was both familiar and comforting to me.
It was the smell I associated with safety…
escape. It had taken the best part of a year before I’d let Aaron come in here, after he’d made the arrangement with Ron to stock the birdhouses in his shop.
Before that, I’d met him at the front gate every time, having heaved my completed pieces through the garden to hand over to him.
I hadn’t been able to stand the idea of anyone in my personal space, and to his credit, he hadn’t pushed.
‘Did you speak to Ron when you got back from the shops?’ I asked. ‘Did you make him take down the stuff he put online?’
He gave a rueful nod, and I could see he thought I was being overly cautious.
‘He was a bit put out – he hired someone to photograph the birdhouses and set up a website, and was making mutterings about recouping his costs, but I pointed out that you hadn’t signed any agreement and were likely to take your work elsewhere if he didn’t respect your wishes. ’
‘And he agreed? It’s off the internet now?’
He nodded again, but the comfort I should have felt was glaringly absent. It was too late. Somehow, Jade had found me. I chewed my lower lip, reaching for the badger birdhouse on the shelf and placing it down on the workbench in front of Aaron.
He broke into a grin. ‘You’re so talented, Annie. You really can’t blame Ron for wanting to show the world that.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘You and I both know he’s not trying to make me into a world-famous artist. He’s only interested in making as much profit as possible from our arrangement.
Not that I’m not grateful to him, but still…
’ I sighed, running my finger over the little cub between the two adult badgers.
‘The detail on that is phenomenal.’ Aaron’s finger touched the badger’s pointed snout, the edge of his hand grazing mine.
I felt my heart rate quicken but kept my eyes trained on the wooden carvings, feigning indifference, as if it was of no significance to me that the heat from his skin burned into mine.
Energy crackled through my veins, neither one of us pulling away.
It would be so natural to give in to whatever this thing was that had developed over the past year.
This unspoken wanting I felt between us.
I wasn’t na?ve enough not to realise he felt it too.
We both knew something had changed… grown.
When at last I looked up, his brown eyes met mine, and I held his gaze, frozen to the spot, not wanting to end the moment. He wouldn’t make the move. Wouldn’t lower his head those last few inches to bridge the gap. He’d wait for me to show him I was ready…
The memory of another first kiss struck me.
The way I’d felt like I was safe, those huge arms wrapping around me as if I were his to protect.
Every muscle in my body tensed as I remembered how quickly that had changed.
How those arms had become a vice, a prison…
I’d been stupid to let myself trust him.
It had nearly cost me my life, and in the end, I’d paid a far greater price than that.
I’d lost my values, my sense of right and wrong.
Become someone I couldn’t stand to face in the mirror. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
I snatched my hand away, sliding the birdhouse across the bench towards Aaron. ‘Tell Ron local sales only or I won’t do business with him again. I mean it, Aaron. Make sure he’s under no illusions when it comes to that.’
He gave a stiff nod, then heaved the cube of wood into his tanned arms. I watched him go without following, angry at myself for succumbing to a fantasy that could never materialise. Being alone was the only choice. The only way to ensure no one got hurt.