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‘It was a long time ago? Is that what you were going to say? It was, and I was young and foolish, and she wasn’t having a great time at home and for a few months we had a very passionate and intense affair even though we knew it was wrong.’ Adam paused, choosing his next words carefully. ‘And I’m not trying to excuse either what you did or what I did, but we do mess up sometimes, especially when we’re young. You’re driven by your emotions. Even though you might know something is wrong, common sense goes out of the window.’
‘Yes,’ said Nikki, remembering how often she had tried to apply logic to the situation, but somehow the intensity of her passion had always won. ‘But I betrayed my own sister.’ Despite his comparison, she still felt her crime was worse.
He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t your finest hour. But there were lots of things at play. It doesn’t sound to me as if Rik and Jess were happy. That’s not an excuse. But it does explain why he might have turned to you for comfort. And there was a spark between you, right from the start, until Jess swooped in and grabbed him.’ He shrugged. ‘Two wrongs don’t make a right, but guess what? You’re human. You made a mistake.’
‘There were so many times I could have stopped it.’ Nikki shut her eyes. Talking about it was overwhelming. ‘And I did stop it, in the end. I was going away to sea. I’d made the decision, and sorted everything out. It was all over. And then he … then he went and died.’
In that moment, she was there, at the bottom of the steps, watching Rik bound upwards as the sea crashed onto the beach behind them. She could have stopped him going. But how would he have felt, had he not gone, knowing he should have been there to help with the rescue?
‘Hey.’ Adam came over and sat next to her. She wanted to sink into him but she was rigid with remorse and unshed tears. ‘I think because of what happened, you’ve blown it all up into something huge and never forgiven yourself. Maybe you should?’
He was too near to her for her to think straight. All her thoughts and memories flew around like the bats at dusk in the garden as she tried to put everything into perspective. Gradually they began to settle. Maybe he was right? The endless self-flagellation never seemed to change anything, after all.
‘You’ve convinced yourself you don’t deserve love, or happiness.’ His voice was gentle, washing over her, soothing her. ‘But you do. Oh, you do. You’re a good person, Nikki. A wonderful person. I’ve seen how much you care for everyone. Not just your family, but your friends, and your clients. And your new neighbour …’ He touched her arm, and she felt a tingle. ‘You’ve made me feel …’ He trailed off for a moment. ‘Warm again. I felt so cold when Jill died, all the time. Deep inside. But when I think about you, when I see you …’
She stared at him. He had a smile on his face that seemed to be getting wider and wider as he spoke. His eyes were shining with something: they sparkled and glittered and she felt spellbound, as if she’d been drugged, like Edmund. All she wanted was to lean into his warmth and his light. And in that moment, she forgave herself, for every mistake, for every wrong decision, and suddenly the black shadow she’d been under flittered away into the night air, and she could breathe again.
As he opened his arms it felt like the most natural thing in the world, to fall into his embrace. And then they were kissing and it was perfect. She could taste the chocolate they’d been drinking, feel his warm fingers on her skin, smell that scent which had haunted her since the first day they’d met.
Eventually Adam disentangled himself. He stood up, taking her by the hand and leading her upstairs. She slid out of his pyjama bottoms and pulled his jumper up over her head, dropping them onto the floor, where they lay in a crumpled heap until morning.
47
The next morning, Nikki woke and found herself staring into a pair of pleading eyes topped by bushy eyebrows, paired with hot breath and a lolling tongue.
Gatsby.
‘Hey, boy,’ she said. ‘Do you want me to let you out?’
She could hear his tail thudding against the floor. She turned to see Adam waking, saw the smile on his face when he realised she was there. Her heart looped the loop as she took in his toned arms, his tattoo, his stubble, his laughing eyes full of mischievous glee. They had finally fallen asleep in each other’s arms as a thundering dawn chorus serenaded them and the sun ventured into the room.
He reached out and ran a finger down her arm. She lay there for a while, enjoying his exploration of her bare skin. Despite her swimmy head, light from lack of sleep, she knew what she needed to do.
‘I’ve got an errand to run this morning,’ she whispered. ‘Do you want me to bring you up a cup of tea?’
‘Lovely. But why are we whispering?’ he whispered back.
‘I don’t know.’ She fell onto him, laughing. He danced his fingers over her back and it made her shiver with delight. But she pulled herself away, rolling off him and grabbing his borrowed clothes from the floor. Gatsby stood patiently, curious but non-judgmental.
‘I’ll be back in an hour,’ she said. ‘Shall I bring croissants from the Co-op?’
Adam had his arms behind his head and was gazing at her. ‘Amazing.’ He looked ridiculously happy. ‘A-mazing,’ he repeated, and she wasn’t sure if he meant her or the prospect of patisserie for breakfast.
It was hard to tear herself away, but there was one thing she had to do before she could allow herself to move forwards completely. Woody was right. She had to come clean to Jess. It was the only way to be free of the threats that were shadowing her. The only way she could take control of the situation. Whoever was sending the postcards had nobody’s interests at heart, and Nikki was determined to protect Jess as far as she could, even if that meant telling the truth.
She let Gatsby out, made Adam a cup of tea and nipped home to change. Then she jumped in her van and headed out to Jess’s house on the outskirts of town. She let herself in the back door, wondering if Jess would be up yet after the party.
Inside, the house was a mash-up of a Moroccan souk, a bordello and an eighties cocktail bar; a riot of colour and an explosion of stuff. Extrovert, over-the-top, chaotic, it was pure Jess from floor to ceiling, which, of course, had mirrored tiles. ‘Like the Hotel California,’ she used to say. A life-size flamingo, backlit glass shelves with every bottle of alcohol she’d picked up in duty free, flashing fairy lights, feathers, fake flowers, suede pouffes in candy colours, a neon sign that read: Save Water; Drink Champagne. And always a pulsating soundtrack – Madonna or Chaka Khan or Lady Gaga. Something empowering and uplifting that said don’t mess with me.
‘Hey!’ Jess bounced into the room in a zebra-skin dressing gown. She looked glowing and youthful and decidedly unhungover. Jess’s ability to recover from a late night was legendary. ‘Alexa, play Harry Styles.’
‘Actually,’ said Nikki, ‘I need to talk to you, so could we have silence?’
Jess stopped in her tracks and frowned. ‘Silence?’ she said as if she’d never heard of such a thing. ‘OK. Forget that, Alexa.’ She jumped onto a red velvet sofa shaped like a pair of lips, and crossed her legs. ‘What’s the matter?’
Nikki walked over and sat in the cracked leather armchair facing Jess. It was smothered in cushions, and she grabbed one, holding on to it for comfort.
‘You’re not ill?’ Jess asked, and Nikki was touched by the concern in her face.
