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“Yeah? And you shouldn’t have married me knowing you didn’t love me.”
I turn and start to close the door. “Isaac, say goodbye to Elliot.”
“Bye, Dad,” Isaac calls, and his words cut me through and through. This is one mistake I won’t be able to heal anytime soon.
Even thinking the word ‘mistake’ brings a flood of other memories to the surface.
By the time I’ve shut the door, sworn at it a fair amount, and gone back into the house, Mum’s woken up and is asking Isaac who he is, and whether he is a burglar.
“No, Mum.” I sigh. “He’s your grandson, remember?”
Isaac smiles at me. “Night, Mum.” He gives me a kiss as he passes for the stairs.
“You’re going to bed already? I haven’t seen you all day!” My frustration starts to boil. “What am I supposed to do?”
Isaac looks at me like I’m losing it and pulls his lip into a borderline sneer. “I don’t know. Whatever parents are supposed to do when they are by themselves.” He starts to take the stairs. “I thought adults liked it when their children went to bed?” he says almost to himself, shaking his head at his question.
“Whatever,” I grumble under my breath and head back into the kitchen to drain the very last dregs of my wine before opening another bottle. I’m halfway through peeling off the foil wrap when the doorbell goes again. I’m beginning to think it’s the only thing that works in this house.
It’s more than likely Elliot coming back to wind me up some more.
I yank the door and a hand pulls me out of the house. A screech escapes from my mouth, but a firm finger is placed against my lips as I’m backed up against the front door as it closes behind me.
The life I could have had pushes me against the door and a shudder runs through my body, swiftly turning surprise into something else. Freddy’s body is tight along mine, his knee pinning me in place, his nose skimming mine as his breath mingles with my own. His breathing has a ragged edge. My legs start to wobble, a shake taking over the whole of my body as I feel him press himself and me further into the wooden door, the doorknocker digging between my shoulder blades. My eyes are wide open, but his are closed, a faint bruise of purple hinting at tiredness under his resting lashes.
I go to speak, ready to ask him what he is doing and why he has me pushed up against my door, but my words are hindered by his finger still against my mouth and the probability that I couldn’t speak even if I tried. So I don’t. I close my eyes and relax my body, the jelly sensation taking over every limb as I breathe in the smell of him intoxicatingly close.
I don’t know how long we stand like that. After a while, his hand raises and his thumb skims along the edge of my jaw. My heart thuds with desperation, like wings of a caged dove desperate to escape.
I shouldn’t be letting Freddy do this. I shouldn’t be lettingmedo this, but for the moment it’s the only thing in this damn world that feels like it’s going to satisfy me. His nose rubs gently against mine, his Eskimo kiss, and it brings back a flood of memories I’ve spent years denying myself.
Gently, he cups my face in his palms, the rough edge of his skin so familiar I could have only felt it yesterday. I think he’s going to kiss me. I open my eyes to check and find him watching me, his dark blues glinting in the evening dusk and a hint of a smile playing around the edges of his lips. His lips. I’m focusing on them, just like I always have.
“I don’t really care that you’re married,” he says. His voice is low, his Suffolk burr deepening the tone. He sounds hoarse and out of breath.“I’ve been hoping…” He hesitates. “No. I’ve beenwaitingfor you to come home.”
His mouth smashes into mine, his lips familiar and firm, as he unwinds ten years from my soul and allows it to soar into the night sky.
