“Brave lot, I’d not stand in a street singing, couldn’t be that cruel to anyone.” Mick smiled, showing rows of fillings. “And Daniel, I heard you were back, well done on that medal.”
He shook his head, being congratulated for a gold medal by a man who risked his life saving others was embarrassing.
“Come in,” Mick said. “I’ve just been sorting the equipment.”
Daniel followed him into the curved boathouse and stood in front of the gleaming orange lifeboat, breathing in the familiar smell of oil and dried seawater. A narrow walkway led to a flight of stairs and tilting his head, he looked up to see a second mezzanine floor, bordered by a black rail draped with waterproof jackets and trousers. Obviously familiar with the building, Carly vanished upstairs, her cane echoing from the metal steps.
“She’s gone to update the fundraising chart,” Mick said, “won’t be long.”
“Is she all right on those stairs?” Daniel said.
Mick laughed. “I’d never dare suggest otherwise.” He looked up at the balcony. “But I’d best help her find the papers, I did some tidying earlier.” He followed her up.
Daniel rested his hand on the boat, there didn’t seem much point in talking to Liam, from the youth’s clenched fists, he still wasn’t in too friendly a mood. Had Carly told people that she’d asked him to go, or did they believe he walked out, leaving her in the hospital?
“What are you doing here?” Liam said.
“I’m not sure, it was an impulsive decision.” Daniel tapped his fingers against the dinghy. Why was he here? It had started as a desire to see Carly, to convince himself that she was all right, but now he didn’t want to leave. He glanced up, hoping to see her walking back down; it felt wrong not to have her by his side. She had fitted back into his life with an ease that both unnerved and excited him. Was this why the relationship with Imogen hadn’t worked? Because deep inside he was still in love with Carly?
“I want you to stay away from my sister, you’ve already destroyed her life once.”
“I think that’s her decision.” Daniel kept his voice level, he wasn’t getting into an argument with Carly’s brother, although part of him was glad that she had someone looking out for her.
“She won’t take you back, not after you abandoned her.”
Daniel thrust his fists into his pockets, knuckles whitening. “It wasn’t my decision to go.”
“She wanted you to leave, I know. But she was hurt and terrified of being a burden, you should have realised that she didn’t mean what she said.”
Daniel remembered her hard eyes, snapping with fury; oh yes, she’d meant every word. Each insult had been planned to cause maximum pain, to ensure he left Haven Bay, and it worked, because for two years he stayed away. That day, he saw a different Carly, one consumed with a rage she couldn’t control.
“It’s none of your business, Liam.”
“It is my business. I spent hours pushing wheelchairs down hospital corridors while she struggled ahead with a walking frame, weeping in frustration when she fell. Do you have any idea how many operations she’s endured, or the terrible pain she copes with each day? No, you know none of that. You left her crying in a hospital bed to continue with your career and glamorous girlfriends, until you eventually return, thinking you can start again where you left off. Well you can’t, we’ve all moved on, there’s no place for you here.”
“I tried.” Daniel said. “She refused to let me into her room, told the nurses to bar me. She made her feelings very clear. I wasn’t wanted, she hated me for what happened.”
“With good reason.”
“Yes, with good reason. It was my fault and I accept the blame, I always have. She wouldn’t be in this position now if it hadn’t been for me and I’ve spent the last two years living with such terrible guilt it’s driven me half mad. But there is nothing I can do to change things, I can’t undo what happened.”
Muted laughter came from the stairs, sounding strange in the tense atmosphere, followed by footsteps and the clunk of a cane on metal. Striding to the steps, he watched her climb down, gripping the rail tight, Mick walking slowly in front.
“We’re doing well!” he said, seeing Daniel. “Only another half a million to raise. Are you coming to the sailing club Christmas party? Ten pounds a ticket with half going to the lifeboat station.”
“I’m not sure.” He glanced at Carly, but she had bent her head to look at the last step, crimson hair falling over her features.
“It wouldn’t be your type of thing, beer served in plastic glasses, bowls of crisps and sausage rolls,” Liam said.
“Do you think I live off champagne and oysters? Thanks, Mick, I’d love to come.” He pulled a ten-pound note out of his wallet and held it out.
“Excellent, let me get you a ticket.” He strode off and Daniel glanced at Carly again. Was it his imagination, or did a brief smile flick across her lips?
“Come and join us, Carly,” Linda called, over the music blasting from the speakers and stamping of partygoers on the dance floor.
Carly let the door swing back and stepped past the Christmas tree, decorated with coloured lights, glancing with a smile at the tinsel dangling from the framed yachting certificates that covered the wooden walls. Haven Bay would never become sophisticated, no matter how many hand-blown glass decorations she sold in her shop, and if she was honest, she preferred it that way. Hanging up her coat on the back of a chair, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of hot sausage rolls, fruit punch and sweat from too many dancing bodies. A few open windows would be good, but snow swirled in the wind outside, coating the pavements with a layer of glistening ice.
Mick waved from across the other side of the room and she smiled back, searching the crowds; Daniel hadn’t arrived yet, or maybe he’d changed his mind; a party in the local sailing club was probably beneath him now.
Actually, that had been a nasty thought. He hadn’t turned up in a posh car, brandishing expensive mobile phones and photos of himself. In fact, he didn’t seem very different, just older, and a little quieter.
“Carly!” Linda said again.
She stepped carefully around the dance floor and joined her friend, who stood talking to Russell and his fiancée, Lisa, who wore a light pink mini dress. Under the dim lights, Lisa appeared naked and her long legs, thrust into heels, gleamed. Carly smoothed down her own black silk dress with a grimace, although the bodice dipped over her cleavage, the hem of the skirt rested on the tops of her low-heeled, tightly strapped shoes. At events like this, it would have been great to leave her cane behind, but she couldn’t walk without it. At least she’d taken the trouble to blow-dry her hair, which shone red across her shoulders, silky and straight.
“All right Carls?” Russell said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “You look good.”
She smiled, ignoring Lisa when she scowled. A newcomer to the bay, she didn’t know that he’d been Daniel’s best friend.
“Great news about Daniel being back,” Russell said. “We met up for a pint earlier, there was a lot to catch up on. It seems I need to return my best man’s outfit to the tailors.”
“I’m sorry,” Carly said.
He looked at her. “Sorry? Why would you be sorry? It’s Daniel who managed to lose himself a gorgeous girlfriend.”
“I meant I was sorry you’d been put out … having to return the suit.”
“You could always save it for funerals,” Lisa said.
Russell glanced at her sharply and Carly stepped back. She wasn’t going to get involved in any arguments, but if Russell did ever marry that woman, she’d be more surprised than seeing Mick turn up to work in a tutu.
“Where is Daniel? I’d like to meet him,” Lisa said, turning to scan the room.
Carly smiled slightly, there was no way he’d fall for her too obvious charms.
“It’s funny I’ve never met him,” Lisa continued. “Why doesn’t he ever come back?”
“Well he’s here now,” Russell said, glancing at Carly. “I expect he’s busy, all those adverts and photo shoots must take time.”
She looked away, Russell knew it was her fault he’d gone, she’d been so angry in those days and Daniel had taken the brunt of it.
“Want a drink?” Linda said.
“Good idea,” Carly said.
Following her friend to the buffet table, she glanced at the champagne standing next to bottles of homemade beer, the sailing club’s patrons spread across a broad economic band. Taking a plastic cup, she poured in two inches of champagne, before adding orange juice, it wasn’t safe to drink more with her painkillers.
“Daniel’s here,” Linda said, nodding at the dance floor.
Her hand shook on the juice carton and she replaced it on the table, before turning around. He wore a dark grey shirt and slim fitting black jeans, his brown hair, bleached blonde on the crown by foreign sun, was ruffled from the wind outside. Ali stood beside him, her bump covered by a cute blue smock.
“Oh, so he is,” Carly said, turning back to her drink.
Linda laughed. “You don’t fool me, he’s looking at you, too.”
“It’s nothing to do with me. Last night I realised how ridiculous all this was, our lives are completely different now, we’ve nothing in common.”
“It’s only sailing that you’ve lost, apart from that you’re the same person you used to be.” Linda grinned. “Maybe slightly worse tempered.”
“Thanks.” She took a mouthful of her drink. “And things aren’t really the same, last time I didn’t have to watch him become a success in an area I failed at.”
“You didn’t fail, you were injured, there’s a difference.”
“The result’s the same, Daniel and I might become friends again, but there couldn’t be anything else between us. I don’t think it would do me any good, it was so hard last time, sitting in that damn hospital while he visited me smelling of fresh air and salt water, announcing his wins.”
“You’re not in hospital now, you’re running a successful shop; it was worse last time because you had nothing else.” Linda looked up. “And he’s coming over, so smile nicely.”
Carly gave a rictus grin.
“Less fangs,” Linda advised.
“Got a toothache, Carly?” Daniel said.
She jumped, spilling her orange juice. “I’m fine,” she said, mopping her dress with a tissue.
“Can you dance? Or would it hurt your leg?”
“She can if the music isn’t too fast,” Linda said. “I’ll go and ask the DJ to put on a slower song.” She vanished into the crowd before Carly could stop her.
“Assuming I wanted to dance,” she said.
Daniel reached for her hand. “Come on, for past times.”
Carly propped her cane against the buffet table. “You’ll have to support me.”
“Of course.”
He led her out just as the song changed and half the dance floor emptied, leaving them alone in the shadows behind the DJ. Daniel’s hands smoothed over the silk of her dress as he gripped her waist and pulled her against him. Reaching up, she put her arms around his neck, resting her head on his chest, his heart beating through his thin shirt against her. As he brushed her back with his fingers, she shivered, the fragile fabric of her dress offering no protection against the warmth of his hands. He seemed taller, standing against her, and his muscles flexed as he moved into time to the music.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
She jerked her head up, but he tightened his arms, holding her so close the sharp edge of his hip dug against her stomach, giving her a strong urge to slide her hand lower, across his bottom. She had to be careful, he was on the rebound; she mustn’t let him get to close, else he’d sail away again after Christmas, leaving her heart-broken. And losing him wasn’t a pain she could cope with twice.
Her feet shuffled on the floor as she rested against him; it was wonderful to be whirled around without the need for her stick, to feel young and well again. People were watching them from the edges of the room, but she kept her back to them, refusing to look. Let them talk, what did it matter? They danced past an open window and she breathed in the sharp scent of frost, mixed with cigarette smoke, which made her feel dizzy, or was it the sensation of his body against her? He stroked her hair, which hung down her back, winding his fingers into the strands as if he never intended to let go. She breathed deep, trembling.
“You know I’m single?” he whispered.
She jumped and heat rose to her cheeks, there was no way he couldn’t have noticed her reaction.
“I was sorry to hear about your engagement being broken off,” she said.
Leaning down, his breath warmed her ear. “Were you?”
Tilting her head up, she stared at his eyes, dark under the disco lights and gazing directly into hers. The warmth of her cheeks spread over the rest of her body and her thighs clenched as she remembered lying with him, her skin tingling and flushed.
“I have to go,” she said, stepping backwards.
He held her arm. “Don’t leave, Carly.”
“Let me go, I don’t need this, I was getting sorted. There’s no place in my life for you now.”
Turning, she tried to walk away, but without her cane, she couldn’t take a step.
“Carly,” Linda said, appearing beside her, holding out her stick; she must have been watching.
“Thanks. I’m going, Linda, see you later.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” her friend said.
She shook her head, tears smarting her eyes, needing to get away. Daniel put his hand on her shoulder.
“It’s dark, let me walk you home, we don’t even need to talk if you’d rather we didn’t, but it’s icy out there.”
“Just leave me alone, I don’t need your help.”
Carly held her head high, snatched her coat, and limped out the hall, slamming the door behind her. Outside, a cold wind struck her face and white snowflakes landed on her jacket. Usually she loved snow at Christmas, but not this year, this year was already ruined. Why did he have to come back?
Her cane echoed in sharp taps from the pavement and a car drove slowly past, wipers swishing, headlights turning the wet road yellow. She heard footsteps behind her and looked back, heart speeding in her chest. Daniel stood a few feet away, his head bare and black jacket unzipped.
“I’ll call the police,” she said.
“I expect you would, but we were friends once. More than friends,” he said, stepping closer.