‘I’m fine!’ I flung the words out. ‘Absolutely. Sorry. The evening is probably catching up a bit with me.’ I downed a mouthful of drink and felt it burn my throat as I desperately tried not to cough. ‘Fine!’ I squeaked out.
The brows rose this time and the concern of a moment ago was replaced with confusion and, judging by the merest tilt of his lips, amusement.
‘I’ll let you get on with your bath, then. Get a good rest and we’ll go and take a look at the damage tomorrow.’
I landed with a thump back in the real world.
‘Yes. Right. Damage.’ I lifted the glass to my lips again as my brain raced around, holding up flash cards prompting me to remember all elements of the disaster my life had turned into during a few short weeks. A large, warm hand on mine stilled both my hand and my brain – my thoughts drawing up short in my mind like a cartoon character coming to an abrupt standstill. I was half expecting to let out a Scooby-Doo-sounding ‘Huhhhhhhh’.
‘Maybe a little slower this time.’ I met the dark eyes. ‘Sips.’
‘Yes. Yes, of course. I’m not sure what came over me. I’m not normally this uncouth.’ I gave what was supposed to be an easy laugh but it came out far more strangulated than I’d anticipated. What was it with this man? Even though I’d basically imploded my entire life, I still knew how to walk the walk and talk the talk. That was unless Jesse Woods was in the vicinity, when it seemed that all the skills I’d been brought up with, and, more importantly, those I’d had to learn once everything fell apart, deserted me. I gave myself a mental kick up the derrière.
‘Thanks again. Goodnight,’ I said, closing the door with what I hoped was an enigmatic smile, as cool as if I were visiting one of my many – apparently ex – friends in their country homes. Except I wasn’t. This man who’d opened his home to me was almost a stranger and yet the kindness and concern he’d shown were beyond anything I’d received from anyone in what felt like a very long time.
I stepped into the soothing water, the bubbles tickling my skin as I sank down, feeling my tense muscles relax and react to the warmth. It had quickly become obvious that the days of being invited down to the country for house parties were clearly over. Not one of those so-called friends had called or even messaged since I blew up my own world. They’d all hastily distanced themselves from me as soon as the poop had hit the fan.
Would I have done that if the Louboutin had been on the other foot? I wasn’t sure I wanted to examine that particular question too deeply. I’d like to think that I wouldn’t have – that I’d be as kind and welcoming as Julie and Jesse had been to me – but, of course, that would have meant standing out from the crowd. Putting my head above the parapet of the general group consensus. And as tough and independent as I had worked at being, the truth was I’d also been desperate to fit in. To be part of the crowd I’d always been. Would I have risked being ostracised on someone else’s behalf? My brain felt full, my head was throbbing with a dull ache and my whole body felt suddenly exhausted. I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind, took another sip of the brandy and reached over to switch on one of the many true-crime podcasts I had stored on my phone, distracting myself from both my current situation and the truth of the answer to that question.
* * *
Total fatigue, both mental and physical, claimed me before I’d even thought about closing the curtains. The night was black as tar; no street lights shone into the guest room, the only noise the wind scouring the land and thumping into the solid walls of the house. It was only as the early tendrils of light tiptoed their way into the room through the glass in the morning that I noticed the curtains weren’t drawn. I pushed myself up from one of the comfiest beds I’d ever slept in and pulled back the soft, thousand-thread sheet and down-filled duvet. I slid my feet into the guest-room slippers, padded my way over to the built-in window seat and looked out.
If I hadn’t experienced it in such a visceral manner, it would have been hard to believe that such a storm had raged the previous night. Glancing around, I saw Jesse’s house seemed to have survived the battering, thankfully. The hedges lining the edges of his garden and the field beyond were full of birdsong. I had no idea which birds but obviously tough ones if they’d avoided being blown away.
I heard a door close and the man himself stepped out onto the porcelain-paved patio and, after a quick wipe, took a seat at the marble-topped table and sipped his coffee. Ned trotted out to join him, his dark coat shining in the early-morning sun. He plopped down beside him and looked up expectantly. Jesse rubbed the dog’s head and then held out a biscuit. Unlike Araminta’s chihuahua, who’d go for a finger as soon as look at you, this dog took the biscuit so gently, it was almost as if it were moving in slow motion. I felt myself smile. But only for a moment. Suddenly, the present crashed back in and I pushed myself away from the window and set about making myself presentable.
Unfortunately, as I hadn’t had a chance, or forethought, to grab any clothes last night while making my hasty exit, I had to make do with the robe as my morning ensemble. The dressing table set let me at least get my freshly washed hair in some sort of order and the locally produced, organic face wash and moisturiser gave my face the perk-up it needed. I looked back at my reflection. Not great but it would have to do.
‘Good morning.’ Jesse turned at the sound of the door and the dog stood to attention beside him, glancing at his owner then me, his tail a blur of motion. ‘How are you with dogs?’
‘I’m a fan,’ I replied, smiling. It was hard not to as the dog kept looking from me to his owner and back again, clearly eager to say hello.
‘Go on, then, Ned. Remember your manners.’
Ned didn’t need to be asked twice and within a split second was sitting politely in front of me, his tail swishing in a speedy arc, his bum almost hovering above the ground in excitement.
I bent, ensuring the dressing gown was wrapped and tucked in well so that I wasn’t accidentally exposing anything to either Jesse or his dog, and scratched his ears. Ned closed his eyes in bliss and made a contented groaning noise.
‘You’ve got a job for life doing that.’
‘I can think of worse jobs.’
‘True. Did you sleep OK?’
‘I did, thank you. To my surprise. In fact, it’s the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a very long time. I’d fully expected to be lying there all night stressing about what I was going to find today and what to do about it.’
‘One step at a time. A good night’s sleep always helps.’
‘Yes. I suppose so. Thank you.’ I straightened.
‘Would you like some breakfast?’
‘No, I’m OK, thanks.’ Now I’d woken, I actuallywasworrying about all the things I’d anticipated worrying about last night. ‘I’ll get out of your hair just as soon as I can.’ I looked down at the dressing gown. ‘I’m just in rather a sartorial pickle at present.’
Jesse stood, pushing the chair back with his legs. ‘Jules is popping over with a couple of bits for you to wear shortly.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure…’
