‘Don’t be silly, it’s nothing. It’s just a tiny scrape. There’s only so much blood because I’ve been in the sea.’
The silence that followed felt laden with a meaning Stella couldn’t begin to decode. After a few minutes, unable to bear the tension any longer, she screwed up all her courage and seized the initiative.
‘What did you want to talk about?’ Her voice sounded smaller than she’d intended.
Jon gave a big sigh.
‘There’s no easy way to say this.’ His tone was so grave and portentous, it made the hairs on the back of Stella’s neck stand up, and her stomach lurched. ‘I’m in love with you, Stella. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, since well before Harriet?—’
A nervous laugh bubbled up in her throat and shot out before she could stop it. ‘Sorry,’ she said, covering her mouth with a hand. ‘I couldn’t help?—’
‘Stella, I’m not kidding?—’
She stared at him and her jaw dropped as reality sank in: he was deadly serious.
‘Stop!’
She raised her hand, palm open and facing forward. ‘Don’t say anything else. You don’t mean it. You’re not thinking straight; you’re still grieving. I never heard what you just said. It never happened.’
While she spoke, he shook his head from side to side, slowly and deliberately. It made her want to slap him and bring him to his senses.
His statement was so absurd, she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Of course it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. But if it was… She shivered, though she wasn’t cold, and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
‘Please, just hear me out.’
The crack in his voice forced her to open her eyes again and pay attention. His own eyes were heavy and the corners of his mouth sagged.
She felt confused, both sorry for him and angry with him for putting her in this extremely uncomfortable position.
‘Please?’ he repeated.
She hugged her arms tightly round her body.
‘Okay, if you really want to. But you’re not in your right mind. I’m worried you’ll regret it.’
At this, he drew up his knees, widened his legs and folded himself between them, as if for protection. His arms were long and stiff and his hands grasped each other tightly.
‘It’s all true, Stella,’ he said slowly. ‘I mean every word. I think I must have always loved you, but when Harriet was alive, I didn’t allow myself to go there. I put you in a box, so to speak, and kept the lid firmly shut.’
A sudden, horrible thought made Stella gasp. She felt as if her head might explode.
‘Did Harriet know?’ Her voice sounded shrill and piercing.
‘No. Absolutely not.’
This was something, at least. She took a deep breath.
‘How do you know?’ she said more gently.
‘Because I never gave her any reason to suspect. I loved her. I’d never have done anything to hurt her. What I want to say is…’ He cleared his throat and she felt a renewed sense of dread. ‘Now Harriet’s gone and Al’s left,’ he went on, falteringly, ‘I’d like to think you and I could maybe, you know, well, make a go of things. We’ve got so much in common. I know we could be happy. What do you think?’
At first his head was bowed, so she couldn’t read his expression. But then he straightened up and gave her a penetrating stare.
She felt invaded, violated, even, as if he were probing into her soul, trying to uncover its innermost secrets. Gripped with revulsion, she had to stop herself from jumping in the water to wash herself clean.
As far as she was concerned, he was still Harriet’s husband and always would be. To have a relationship with him was unthinkable. It would be the ultimate betrayal. It would almost feel like incest. Added to this, she wasn’t attracted to him. She didn’t even think she liked him much any more.
Her first instinct was to tell him the bitter truth, but then she remembered Harriet. When she’d sat in the funeral parlour beside her friend’s coffin, with tears streaming down her cheeks, she’d solemnly promised again to look after Jon and Jemima for her, come what may.
