* * *
Georgie closed her eyes and blew out her breath
slowly.
What an idiot she was! Of course he didn’t want her touching
him! It was hard enough as it was. Throw any more fuel on the fire between them
and it would rage out of control like a bushfire. And neither of them needed
that.
Yes...!
No! No, no, no, no, NO!
She poured a coffee for him, told Josh she would only be a
moment and followed him to his study, her heart pounding.
She knew he was there because the music was on and she could
hear it from the kitchen doorway. She tapped, pushed the door open and went in,
leaving the door open for safety.
‘Coffee,’ she said, setting it down on the mat on his desk, and
he turned his head and looked up at her.
‘George—I’m sorry. It’s just...’
‘I know. It’s my fault. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll see you later
for lunch. Half an hour OK?’
He nodded. ‘That would be great. Thanks.’
She took herself back to the kitchen, poured a coffee for
herself and took Josh back into the little sitting room to play with the train
set for a few minutes. It was nearer to Sebastian, but they weren’t making a lot
of noise and she didn’t think they’d disturb him, especially not over the
music.
But then the door opened and he came in, cup in hand, and
joined them.
Why?
Because he couldn’t stay away?
‘I’ve just spoken to the local farmer. He’s going to clear the
lane. He’ll make a start today, but it might be tomorrow before he gets to the
gate.’
‘Oh. Right.’ She forced a smile. ‘Well, that’s good to know.
I’ll tell my mother to expect us.’
‘So—shall I get lunch?’
‘Goose sandwiches?’ she teased, but he shook his head.
‘We had sandwiches for breakfast and for supper. It might be
time for something more imaginative. We have a whole groaning larder to choose
from.’
They did.
She made a winter salad tossed in a honey and mustard dressing
to go with the goose which he shredded and crisped in the oven, and Josh had a
little of it with some pasta and pesto and a handful of cherry tomatoes.
‘That was nice and healthy,’ she said, and he laughed and got
out the Christmas cake.
‘It was. And I’m starving. You can be too healthy. Want cheese
with it?’
‘Mmm. And tea.’
She cubed some cheese for Josh, gave him a sliver of the cake
without icing and then cut them both a chunk.
Sebastian was munching his way through a slab the size of his
hand when he glanced up and frowned.
‘It’s raining!’
‘What?’
She turned and looked out of the window.
Rain. Only light rain, but rain, not snow. And that meant a
sudden thaw.
‘It could flood tomorrow,’ she said.
‘It could, if it keeps on. In the meantime, I guess my
activities on the drive are over.’
‘Well, it won’t be necessary anyway if it’s going to rain hard.
It’s a pity, though. I was hoping I could take Josh outside again for a bit more
running around.’
Sebastian shrugged. ‘There’s plenty of room in the house. He
can run around in here, can’t you, Josh?’
‘Well, that’s true,’ she said. ‘If he just tears up and down
the hall he’ll wear himself out in half an hour.’
‘Play hide and seek?’ Josh said hopefully, and Sebastian smiled
indulgently at him.
‘Sure. Heaven knows there are plenty of places to hide,’ he
said drily, his eyes flicking up to Georgie’s.
There were. More than enough. And she’d hidden in all of them,
and he’d found her.
And kissed her.
She looked hastily away.
‘I think we could stick to the ground floor.’
‘Or the attic?’
‘The attic? Have you done anything with it?’
‘Not much. It’s been cleaned out and repaired when the roof was
sorted, but it’s pretty much as it was. I thought the house was big enough for
me with just two floors.’
‘What’s a tick?’ Josh asked, looking puzzled, and Georgie
suppressed a smile.
‘Not a tick, an attic. It’s—well, we’ll show you, shall we?
It’s just the very, very, very upstairs.’
‘Oh.’
Sebastian chuckled softly. ‘I can hear the cogs turning.’
‘Oh, yeah. Watching him learn is amazing. Let’s go and show
him.’
* * *
He opened the door at the top of the stairs, and Georgie
followed him and looked around, her eyes wide.
‘Gosh. It looks enormous now you can see it all. It used to be
full of cobwebs and birds’ nests and clutter.’
‘It was—especially the clutter. We lost count of the number of
skips it took to take it all away.’
‘Was there anything interesting?’
‘There was, but most of the stuff was damaged because the birds
had got in. I’ve got some of the things that were rescued downstairs, but most
of it was beyond saving. And there was a lot of rubbish. You know what people
are like. They put stuff away and leave it “just in case”, and then forget
it.’
She walked slowly through the rooms, Josh’s hand firmly in
hers, and checked that it was safe. It was. There was nothing that could harm
him, and so she let go of his hand.
‘Right. Are we going to play hide and seek?’
‘Yay! Hide and seek! Yay!’
Josh was bouncing on the spot, and she put her hands over her
eyes and peeped through her fingers.
‘You peeping!’ he said, and she laughed.
‘I’m going to count. Josh, Sebastian, go and hide!’
He grabbed Josh by the hand and grinned. ‘Come on. I know a
good place.’
He did. It was under the eaves, behind the chimney, and he
pulled Josh in there and held him close.
‘Ready or not, here I come!’
He could hear her footsteps coming, and Josh started to
giggle.
‘Shh,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t make a sound.’
He could hear her footsteps coming, going into another room,
then coming closer, closer...
Like the walls, closing in on him, the small boy leaning on his
leg, a voice saying ‘Shh,’ the sound almost inaudible in the silence.
Silence broken only by the sound of footsteps...
A sudden wave of panic came out of nowhere, and he tried to
swallow it, but it wouldn’t subside, and with a sudden rush he straightened and
burst out of the tight space and into the light.
‘Sebastian?’
She was right there, staring at him curiously, her mouth
moving, but he could hardly hear her through the pounding of his heart. It was
running like an express train, deafening him, and he made some vague excuse
about having something to do and walked swiftly away on legs like overcooked
spaghetti.
* * *
Georgia stared after him.
Busy? It was Boxing Day, all businesses except retail outlets
were closed.
No. It was just an excuse not to be with her and Josh. Maybe he
felt she was just sucking him in again?
But it had seemed like more than that. Much more. There had
been something in his eyes...
No matter. He’d left, claiming pressure of work, and so she
left him to it and played with Josh for a while, hiding in easy to find places,
making enough noise to give him a clue, and they giggled and hugged and had
fun.
And all the time, in the back of her mind, was Sebastian. And
she was troubled, for some reason.
‘Right, that’s enough of hide and seek. It’s very dirty up
here. Shall we go and play with your train again?’
‘Bastian play with me?’
‘No, darling, he’s busy, but I will. Of course I will.’
But first, she had to find Sebastian. She sorted Josh out,
settled him down with the train set and went to find him.
He was in the study, of course, doing something on his
computer, and he glanced up at her and carried on.
‘OK, what’s going on?’
‘Nothing. I’m fine. I’m just busy.’
‘No, you aren’t. Sebastian, talk to me. What’s the matter? What
happened back there?’
‘Nothing. I just don’t like being shut in. You know that. It’s
why I never go in a lift.’
‘I know, but—’
‘But nothing. It’s fine.’
‘It’s not fine. You ought to see someone about that,’ she told
him softly. ‘They can do things about claustrophobia.’
‘I take the stairs. It’s good for me.’
‘But—’
‘Georgia, leave it.’
Georgia. Not George, not Georgie.
She hesitated a moment, then gave a defeated little shrug and
walked away. He was shutting her out again, shutting her out as he always
did.
Well, she was tired of fighting him. With any luck the rain
which she’d heard gurgling in the gutters was washing away the snow on the
roads, and first thing in the morning, as soon as the lane was clear, she was
off, because she just couldn’t do this any more.
* * *
He didn’t appear again that day. She cooked supper for
Josh, then took him up and bathed him and put him to bed, and when she came down
she could see that Sebastian had helped himself to something.
A goose sandwich, ironically, she thought from the evidence
left scattered about on the worktop. And carefully timed for when she was out of
the way.
She shrugged. Oh, well, if he didn’t want her company, she
wasn’t going to force it on him. And even though she didn’t really need another
sandwich, she made herself one and ate it at the table. Just in case he was in
the little sitting room.
He wasn’t.
She realised that after she’d finished her sandwich and cleared
up the kitchen. She’d made a cup of tea, and picking up the baby monitor she
went out into the hall. It was dimly lit, and she could see light coming under
the study door, but the door to the little sitting room was open and it was dark
inside.
Fair enough. She’d sit in there, watch the television and start
packing up Josh’s toys.
Once the lane was cleared, she didn’t want to be here a minute
longer than necessary. They’d clearly outstayed their welcome, and she felt
emotionally exhausted.
So exhausted, in fact, that she went up to bed as soon as she’d
dismantled the little train set. Josh didn’t stir when she went in, and she
turned off the monitor, put it down on the bedside table and got ready for bed
in the bathroom.
She would have liked to read, but her book was in the car and
anyway she doubted she’d be able to concentrate. She lay down, closed her eyes
and tried not to think about him, but it was impossible.
Her mind was full of images—him playing in the snow with Josh,
shovelling snow, laughing at her as she fell on her face, kissing her under the
mistletoe—and coming out from behind the chimney in the attic as if the hounds
of hell were after him. He’d always been claustrophobic, but it had looked like
more than that.
No. He’d never liked being shut in. He never went in lifts, as
he’d reminded her, and he’d never hidden anywhere cramped when they’d been
playing hide and seek.
He’d been rubbish at hiding. Good at finding, but rubbish at
hiding. And he’d been hiding with Josh, in behind the chimney. It was tight in
there, tight and dark, and although she’d never been afraid of it, she could see
why he might have been.
Well, it had been his idea to go in the attic, and a bit of
claustrophobia wasn’t going to have kept him holed up in his study for the rest
of the day.
No, he was sick of them being there, interrupting his routine,
cluttering up his house and his life and just generally taking over. Well, just
a few more hours and she’d be gone. She’d looked out of the bathroom window and
the snow was patchy already. By the morning, it would be clear and she could get
away.
And she wouldn’t need to see him again.
* * *
The noise woke her.
Not a scream, more of a muffled shout, a cry of pain.
Sebastian.
She grabbed the baby monitor and tiptoed out of the room,
closing the door behind her. His door was never completely closed, but as she
opened it further she could hear him breathing fast, muttering in his sleep,
wordless sounds of distress.
The dream again. ‘Sebastian?’
She switched on the bedside light and reached for him, shaking
his shoulder gently.
‘Sebastian? Wake up. It’s a dream. It’s just a dream.’
His eyes flew open and locked on hers, and then he turned away,
throwing his arm up over his eyes, his chest heaving.
He looked awful. His face was ashen, his eyes wary, and he was
breathing hard, as if he’d been running, and it shocked her.
‘Sebastian?’
She reached out a hand and touched him tentatively, and he
dropped his arm and dragged a hand down over his face.
‘I’m all right. I didn’t mean to disturb you. Go back to
bed.’
‘You had the dream again, didn’t you?’
He swallowed hard.
‘I’m fine.’
‘No, you’re not. Do you want a cup of tea?’
He shook his head. ‘No. You need to be with Josh.’
But he was shaking all over, his skin grey, and she turned on
the baby monitor and put it on the bedside cabinet, then got into bed beside him
and pulled him into her arms.
‘It’s OK,’ she said, murmuring to him as she would to Josh.
‘It’s OK. I’ve got you.’
He shuddered, and then slumped his head against her shoulder,
letting the tension out of his body in a rush. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I wish you’d talk to me.’
‘No. I don’t want to talk about it.’
But he needed her, and she was there, just there, in his bed,
in his arms, and he gave up fighting. His hand came up and cradled her face, his
fingers still shaking, and then his mouth was on hers, her body under his, her
hands running over him as she made desperate little pleading noises.
He lifted his head and she followed him, her mouth searching
for his, her lips clinging, and he followed her back down to the pillow and let
go of the last shred of his self-control.
CHAPTER NINE
W
HEN
HE
WOKE
in the morning, he was alone.
Had he dreamed it?
Dreamed it all, not just
the dream
—hell, he hadn’t had it for ages, but last night—and then afterwards...
Had she come to him?
No.
Or had she? It had seemed so real...
He rolled his face into the pillow and breathed in, and the faint, lingering scent of her perfume dragged him right back to the dream.
No. Not the dream. The thing that wasn’t a dream. The thing that had been a really, really bad idea.
Damn.
He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. It was dark outside, and he could hear the rain falling, but his watch had beeped ages ago which meant it was long after six.
He peered at the hands. Six forty-eight. Nearly seven.
He threw back the bedclothes and hit the shower, standing under the pounding blast and letting it wash away the fog of fear and confusion that lingered in the corners of his mind.
And with the washing away of the fog came clarity, and with it, the realisation of just what he’d done.
He must have been crazy! How could he have let himself do that? Of all the stupid, stupid things—
He turned off the water and stepped out, burying his face in the towel for a long moment before towelling himself roughly dry.
He heard something—machinery?—and strode to the window, yanking the curtain out of the way.
There were lights on the lane; a tractor, clearing the snow in the almost-dark. The drive looked almost completely free of snow.
Which meant Georgie could leave.
Good. That was good, he told himself, but it didn’t feel good, and just underlined how big a mistake he’d made last night. Well, never again. He was done with breaking his heart over Georgia Beckett.
* * *
He was up.
She could hear him moving around in his room, hear the water running. Josh was playing on the floor, and she’d showered and dressed and she was packing their things.
His cot, with the bedding Sebastian had lent her. All their wash things. Random toys and bits and pieces scattered about all over the room by Josh.
She checked under the bed and found the nappy cream she’d lost last night, and put it in the changing bag. Time he was potty trained, anyway. She’d do that as soon as she was home, but she hadn’t wanted to do anything when he was out of routine. Not a good time to set yourself up for a fall.
And talking of doing that, what had she been thinking about last night? Why get into bed with him?
On
the bed, maybe, but
in
it?
Asking for trouble, and she’d got it, with bells on.
He needed you.
And you needed him, every bit as much.
‘Josh, come on, let’s take these things downstairs and we can go and have breakfast with Grannie and Grandpa!’
‘Now?’
She nodded, dredging up a bright smile from somewhere. ‘Yes. Look. The farmer’s cleared all the snow from the lane. We can get out now, and go to Grannie’s house.’
‘Bastian come?’
Oh, here we go
. ‘No, darling. Sebastian lives here.’
‘Us live here.’
‘No. We can’t, Josh. It’s not our house, and anyway, we’ve got a house already.’
He stuck his chin out. ‘Want Bastian.’
So did she, but it wasn’t going to happen in this lifetime.
She picked up the travel cot, slung the changing bag over her shoulder and pulled up the handle on her case. ‘Come on, downstairs, please.’
She trundled the case to the top of the stairs, then picked it up and struggled down the first few steps.
Then a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her, the case was removed from her grasp, the travel cot removed from the other hand and Sebastian carried them down to the kitchen without a word.
‘Anything else up there?’
He met her eyes, but warily, and she felt hers skitter away. ‘No. That’s everything. There’s just the train set. I packed it up last night. Oh, and the bag of presents in your room.’
He nodded, went and got everything and returned, putting the train set boxes on the big kitchen table where they seemed to have shared so many important moments in the last few days.
Josh was trailing him, talking to him non-stop, asking if they could live there, if he was coming for breakfast with Grannie, if they were coming back.
He either didn’t understand Josh, which was possible, or didn’t want to understand, which was much more likely.
‘Josh, leave Sebastian alone, we can’t stay here and he’s not coming with us,’ she said softly, and he started to cry.
‘Hey. Don’t cry, little guy,’ Sebastian said, finally relenting and crouching down to Josh’s level. ‘Mummy’s right. You can’t stay here, you have to go home to your house, and I can’t come with you because I have to stay here in mine.’
‘Me stay here,’ he said, and he wrapped his arms tightly round Sebastian’s neck and hung on.
A pained expression crossed his face for a fleeting second, and he hugged him briefly, but then he gently but firmly disentangled the little boy’s arms and prised him away, setting him down on the floor and standing up. ‘Come on, Josh, don’t cry. You’re going to see your Grannie.’
But Josh’s arms were wrapped round his legs now, and Georgie unwrapped them and picked him up, sobbing piteously, and Sebastian pushed past her and pulled on his coat and sloshed across to the coach-house to get her car out.
He was gone longer than she expected, but then she heard the car pull up. ‘The traction seems fine, the slush is really wet,’ he said as he came back in, leaving the car running just by the door. ‘The drive’s fine and the lane’s clear. I just drove down to have a look. You should be OK.’
OK? She doubted it, but she nodded and pulled her coat on, one arm at a time with Josh still in her arms, and then while Sebastian put their luggage in the car, she sat down on a chair to put Josh’s coat on.
He wasn’t having any of it.
‘Come on, Josh,’ she pleaded, but he just made it even harder, burrowing into her and hiding his hands, so she carried him out to the car as he was and strapped him in.
‘Will he be all right without it?’
‘He’ll be fine,’ she said crisply. ‘Look, I think I’ve got everything but it’s really hard with Josh, he carts stuff about all over the place. If you find anything, maybe you could pile it all up and my father could come and collect it.’
He nodded. ‘Or I can post it to you.’
‘They can do that,’ she said, reluctant to give him her address. She really, really didn’t need any more scenes like this one.
And then there was nothing more to say but goodbye, and thank you.
For what?
For opening his home to her, but not his heart?
For making love to her one last time, so she could treasure it in the cold, lonely hours of the nights to come?
For saving her son’s life?
‘I’ll miss you,’ he said gruffly. ‘Both of you.’
Her eyes flooded with tears, and she nodded. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything except stand there mutely and blink away the stupid, stupid tears—
His thumbs were gentle as he wiped them away.
‘Don’t cry, George. We’re no good for each other.’
But they had been. All this time, the last few days, they’d got on really, really well. Except for the times they hadn’t.
She tried to smile, but it was a shaky effort.
‘Goodbye, Sebastian. And thank you. For everything.’
Going up on tiptoe, she pressed a gentle, rather wistful kiss to his lips, and then turned and walked out of the door, her head bowed against the rain, her eyes flooding with tears as she left the man she’d never stopped loving standing on the step behind her.
* * *
She didn’t look back.
He was glad. If she had, he might have weakened, said something.
Like what? Begging her to stay?
He opened the gates remotely from the hall, watched on the security camera as her car turned out of the drive and headed left, the direction the farmer had cleared already.
The car slithered a little, and he frowned. He had his coat on. His keys were in his pocket. He had to make sure she was safe.
He followed her, staying well behind out of sight, and ten minutes later he cruised by the end of her parents’ drive.
Her car was there, and her father was carrying her things in, her mother was holding Josh and Georgie was lifting the bag of presents out of the front of the car.
She was safe. Home, and safe.
Duty discharged.
He went home, turned into the drive and saw the soggy remains of the snowman wilting gently on the lawn beside the drive. His nose had fallen out, and one of his eyes, and the scarf had definitely seen better days.
He left it there. It seemed wrong to take it off until the snowman had gone completely, and anyway, it was already ruined.
* * *
Everything, he discovered, seemed wrong.
The house, which until Monday had seemed calm and peaceful and a haven, was silent and empty.
The kitchen echoed to his footsteps. The boot room had a little coat, a snuggly jacket and two pairs of wellies missing from it. And under the table was a toy car.
He picked it up, tossing it pensively in his hand. It was a toy Josh might never have played with, if things had been different. If he hadn’t been here. If the snow had come a little earlier, or she’d stopped a little later.
If nothing else, Josh and his mother were still alive, they still had each other and they could move on with their lives. And so could he.
Even if the house echoed with every sound he made.
He made some toast and coffee, took it through to the study and paused en route to check the little sitting room.
And saw the Christmas tree, festooned with all the little toys and sticks and fir cones Georgie had made at the kitchen table and Josh had put on the tree.
There were no gingerbread trees or stars left.
Or at least, only one. High up, out of Josh’s reach.
He left it there, left it all there and went into the study and phoned his mother.
‘Hi. The lane’s clear. When do you want to come?’
‘Oh. That was quick. Are you all right?’
‘Of course I’m all right. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘You tell me, darling,’ his mother said softly. ‘How’s Georgie?’
‘She’s fine. Look, I don’t want to talk about this. Are you coming over, or not?’
‘Oh, we’re coming, whenever you’re ready for us. Andrew and Matthew are here, too. Shall we come now?’
‘That would be fine. Come as soon as you like.’
‘Do you have anything left to eat, or do you want us to get something on the way?’
He gave a slightly strangled laugh. ‘There’s plenty here. I’ve got a joint of beef. We can have it for dinner tonight.’
And maybe having a full house would drown out the echoes...
* * *
‘I knew it.’
‘Knew what?’
‘That you’d be upset.’
Georgie put the tea towel down on the worktop and rolled her eyes. ‘Mum, don’t start—’
‘Sorry. I’m sorry, but you look so—’
‘Mum...’
‘OK. Point taken. I’ll back off. So—how was your Christmas?’
Wonderful. Heartbreakingly wonderful.
‘I don’t really want to talk about it,’ she said. ‘He did us a huge favour, he made a real effort to be nice to Josh who’s completely idolised him as you might have guessed, and it’s over now and I’d rather just forget it. How was yours?’
‘Oh, quiet. We missed you. We were on our own, of course, so I put the turkey in the freezer, but I’ve got a chicken in the fridge so we could have it for supper or even a late lunch. We’ve still got most of the trimmings. We could still make it a proper Christmas dinner.’
She forced a smile. She wasn’t really hungry, but she owed her mother the courtesy of good manners. ‘That would be lovely. Thank you. Want me to peel some potatoes?’
‘If you like. It would be nice to have your company, and Josh seems happy enough for now with his Grandpa and the train set.’
Except for the word ‘Bastian’ that seemed to crop up in every conversation...
* * *
He went back to London as soon as his parents and brothers went.
He hadn’t intended to, but the empty house was driving him insane, so he loaded up the car with a ton of fresh food out of the pantry and took it to the refuge. He was never going to get through it, so there was no point in wasting it.
He also took back a lot for the office staff, things his PA had over-supplied in her enthusiasm but that would keep until the office reopened and yet more for the refuge. Tash had really overdone it.
And then he went back to work.
He hadn’t intended to do that, either, but he was there before the office reopened, sitting at his desk filling his time and his mind with anything rather than Georgie and her apparently rather lovable little boy. Not that there was a lot to do until everyone was back, so in the end he gave up and just walked the streets and went to the theatre and the odd art exhibition, watched the fireworks on New Year’s Eve from the window in his apartment and wondered what the New Year would bring.
Nothing he was about to get excited about.
Then he went back into the office at the crack of dawn on the second of January, champing at the bit and ready to get on. Anything rather than this agonising limbo he seemed to be in.
Tash sashayed into his office, humming softly to herself, and stopped dead. ‘Hey, boss, what are you doing back? I thought you’d be there till next week. I wasn’t expecting you in till Monday.’
He looked up and met his PA’s astonished eyes. Her hair was pink this week. Last week it had been orange—or was it the week before? ‘It’s a bit quiet in the country.’
She frowned, and perched on the edge of his desk, twisting her hair up and anchoring it with a pencil out of the pot.
‘Really? I thought you liked that.’
‘I do.’ He did. He had. Until Georgie came.
‘So how was the food? Did you get through it all?’