Chapter 18 #2
‘I’d like that too, but I think we do need to go and look at the horses. It’s Becca’s party, her rules.’
‘Maybe later.’ Jameson flashes me another cheeky smile and my heart soars.
‘Maybe later,’ I echo, and our hands brush as we fall into step.
The stables are smelly, but also more interesting than I’d expected.
The horses steal my heart with their big, brown eyes and whiskery noses.
They whicker with pleasure when I get up the courage to stroke them, and we pass a peaceful half hour listening to Becca witter on about her favourite subject.
‘Of course,’ she says, ‘this is Euan’s domain now.
He’s great with the horses and my mother is a tough boss – she doesn’t let just anyone look after her animals. ’
It feels peaceful, here with the horses.
Leo, Kimmy and Jameson all get bored and drift off back to the house, but I’m drawn not just to the animals but to this new version of Becca.
She’s so animated and natural here in the stables.
For the first time, it feels like I’m seeing the real Becca.
My yen for connection makes me linger, listening to her chatter on.
Alex is like my shadow in the stables, trailing after me, silent and troubled.
He’s been quiet on the tour, ever since the scene in the pool house.
I wonder if it bothered him more than he let on, or if he’s still feeling bad for the murder quip.
He hovers around me, like he wants to say something but can’t find the words or opportunity.
Eventually, when Becca’s chatter about racehorse pedigree doesn’t let up, he wanders away.
The stables are cosy, with heaters to combat the freezing temperatures and keep the horses warm.
I feel at ease. Eventually, Becca realises the time and how long we’ve spent out here.
We’re getting off track from her strict itinerary. ‘We should go back,’ she says.
I tear myself away from a sweet-faced mare which probably cost more than the deposit on my flat.
‘Where did Alex go?’ Becca says. ‘I didn’t hear the door, did you?’
‘No.’
We find him in one of the backrooms off the stable block.
‘Oi,’ says Becca. ‘Nosy. Nothing in there but old boxes. Most of my stuff from the London flat, and Euan’s too – I want the cottage decor to be really minimalist; there’s no room for footie trophies and piles of old charging cables, which is all he seemed to bring with him. ’ She rolls her eyes indulgently.
‘Sorry. I was just looking around.’ Alex clambers over some boxes to exit the storage space.
Becca links her arm through mine. ‘Let’s head to the library and get you a glass of wine, shall we, Eilish?’
She slides open the huge stable door and steps out into the snow.
Alex sidles up to me. He has that shifty look again, like he wants to talk, but there’s no chance for a private conversation with Becca waiting to close the door behind us, making sure the horses are locked up safe and warm for the night.
The snow is falling thickly on our short crossing from stable to kitchen.
Sheltered from the wind by the towering walls that surround the courtyard, there’s something magical about the soft flakes that dance and spin about me, landing on my cheeks and eyelashes.
The afternoon sky is fully dark now, a patina of navy silk and white lace.
The snow is settling in, like it means business.
I think of that red weather warning. The storm is due to reach its peak overnight.
Alex hunches his shoulders and shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.
He seems so antsy as he falls into step with me.
I wonder if he wants to talk about last night again, his speculations about Genevieve’s death.
He doesn’t know that I heard what he said about someone hurting her.
I wish he did, so he could acknowledge the mistake.
I just want things to feel … normal between us. Like old times.
When Alex and I talked about Gen in my flat on Hogmanay, and when we first discussed her last night, as we toasted, memorialised … it felt like we were united in our love for her. Alex never mentioned any suspicions then.
Perhaps he’s been more affected by the scene in the swimming pool than he let on. For all he laughed it off, maybe it scared him.
Or he might be feeling guilty about hooking up with Becca last night, seeking a confidante; I don’t want to play that role, don’t want anything to do with their infidelity.
It’s normal to feel the pull of an old attraction, it makes sense – but it’s different with me and Jameson; we’re not hurting anyone by flirting.
And we didn’t leap into bed with each other at the first opportunity.
We’re taking our time, getting to know each other.
Besides, Alex and Becca never worked as a couple. They were mates, after that one-night stand. Sure, they flirted a bit, but they never gave me the impression either one wanted anything more.
Becca bounds up and slips between us, flinging an arm around each of us as we tramp across the snowy courtyard. ‘There’s at least an hour until we have to get ready for tonight’s party,’ she says.
‘You said I could sit in the library and read,’ I quickly remind her, in case she has fresh ideas about entertaining me.
‘What about that game of pool, Eils?’ It’s the first time Alex has spoken since leaving the stables. He still sounds distracted.
‘You really expect Eilish to choose thrashing you at pool over reading in my father’s impressive-as-fuck library?’ Becca smiles. ‘This is Eilish we’re talking about. No way. You’ll have to make do with me annihilating you at pool instead.’
Alex perks up a bit. ‘That’s never gonnae happen, Bex.’
Becca shrugs. ‘We’ll see, won’t we.’
‘Guess we will.’
Back at the house, we head upstairs, Alex and Becca still roasting each other about the upcoming pool battle. Alex veers off towards the bedrooms when Becca and I turn left to head along the long gallery to the library. ‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ Alex says. ‘You guys go on—’
‘He’s off to blow-dry his hair,’ Becca quips, loud enough for her voice to carry after Alex.
He flips her the finger over his shoulder and keeps walking, but it seems good-natured between them.
Flirty even. Becca and I both laugh. And even though I don’t approve of them messing about behind Euan’s back, it feels nice to be goofing about with Becca, united in taking the piss out of Alex.
This is what it’s all about, what I’ve been missing: the sort of friendship where you can joke around, have a laugh at each other’s expense. It doesn’t need to be serious all the time – even with tragedy at the root of our connection. We should be having fun.
I’m determined that tonight we will.