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Ash frowned at her.
‘I thought you loved your life once your uncle took you home? I thought he saved you.’
‘He did—he was fantastic,’ Fliss cried, panicking that she might be portraying her incredible uncle—her rock—in anything other than glowing terms when she thought of all he had done for her. ‘He has always been fantastic.’
‘But your grandparents weren’t?’
She drew in a deep breath, unsure how to explain this to a man who had been physically hurt and wounded as a child.
‘They were never unkind to me,’ she said slowly. ‘They gave me a home, schooling, clothing, everything a child needs physically. But they never showed me any love. My uncle was away a lot with the Army so it was usually just me with them. I worked hard; my grades were outstanding because I thought it was about their fear of me making the same mistakes as my mother. I thought if I worked hard I could show them that I wasn’t like that, that I would earn their love.’
‘But it didn’t work,’ he guessed.
She supposed he knew enough about that. If the love wasn’t there naturally from the start, then she was hardly going to earn it.
‘No,’ she confirmed. ‘It didn’t. I suppose it turned out for all of us to be my way of repaying them for taking me in. My success was confirmation they were meeting my needs. But it didn’t change who I was or what I was. Behind the perfunctory well dones they never stopped looking at me as the family’s shameful little secret.’
Raking his hand over his forehead, Ash closed the gap between them but he still wasn’t touching her. She inhaled deeply, the familiar sce
nt both soothing her troubled mind and stimulating her body.
Oh, so stimulating.
‘I don’t want to talk about it any more,’ she said gently. ‘I’ve told you now. And it’s done and it’s my past. All of it.’
She licked her lips, hoping she hadn’t misread the signals.
‘So how about we focus on the future? One with both of us in it?’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘You told me you loved me. There is still an us, isn’t there?’
He’d told her he loved her, but that was before. She had no idea if he still felt the same way.
‘Is it really what you want?’ He stepped forward, his fingers lacing through hers. He tipped his forehead against hers until she thought the pressure in her chest would compact her.
‘Are you all in, Fliss?’
‘I’m all in,’ she murmured. ‘You changed everything for me. You make me feel stronger than I’ve ever felt. More sure of who I am and what I want. And you give me a sense of belonging.’
Lifting her hands to his mouth, Ash dropped kisses on her knuckles.
‘Want to see something incredible?’
She barely hesitated before accepting his hand, allowing him to lead her in companionable silence through the FIBUA towards where, now she was looking, a faint glow appeared to be coming from one of the rooftops. She shivered with anticipation, and it was nothing to do with the cooling evening air. Still, she was glad of the trainers and warm jumper her uncle had told her to wear.
‘You know, I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned at the thought of you and my uncle conspiring against me.’
‘Whichever you prefer.’
She could hear the smile in his voice.
Together, they made their way past the deserted buildings until the source of the glow became more apparent. She detected the woody scent of a burn, tasting it faintly on the air even before the flickering firelight spilled from the roof of the building in front of her. The crackle of it carried in the still air, making it feel romantic, Fliss thought as they crossed the road and headed up the stone steps which led to the roof.
Her breath lodged in her throat like a tiny bird fluttering its wings, unable to get out of its cage. The old concrete roof was covered with a large rug, a picnic basket and two fold-out chairs on top. A fire pit threw out heat from the front whilst military glow sticks lined the three sides of the perimeter like an Army version of fairy lights. For an instant it evoked memories of being on the viewing point with Ash when they’d watched the carnival floats and something twisted inside Fliss. Hot, red, sensual.
But it was only when she turned around that the full extent of Ash’s military make-over became apparent. The fourth perimeter wall which formed the back of the building was two metres high and—right now—it was covered in a mural. The most stunning graffiti art Fliss had ever seen and there was no doubt that it was a faithful representation of the view from the rooftop of the MERT compound back at Camp Razorwire.
‘It’s stunning,’ she breathed, spinning slowly to look at Ash. ‘But how...?’
‘You remember Corporal Hollings? Andy Hollings?’ Ash prompted.
