Chapter 42
Alain joins us again the next morning at our breakfast table. ‘Where are you going for dinner tonight?’ he asks.
‘We were thinking Thai,’ I reply.
‘Oh, a beautiful restaurant.’ He shakes his head with incredulity. ‘The sunsets from the balcony are stunning. What will you do with my granddaughter?’
‘We’ll take her with us,’ Charlie says.
‘Oh, no!’ He looks dismayed. ‘You can’t enjoy the meal and the view with a baby! You must get a sitter.’
‘It’s all right, she’ll fall asleep in her pram,’ Charlie replies.
‘But our sitters ’ere are fantastic!’ he cries. ‘We ’ave a lovely girl for you. She is very friendly. April will adore her.’
Charlie looks at me. I shrug. It’s up to him.
‘I’ve never left her with a sitter before,’ he muses.
‘The Thai restaurant is very close to our hut,’ I point out. ‘You could always take April to her room and settle her, then come back. And, if she wakes up, they could call us.’
‘What do you say?’ Alain prompts. ‘I get our girl to come to you?’
‘I guess we could give it a try,’ Charlie agrees.
‘Excellent!’ He claps his hands together and gets up from our table. ‘And tomorrow night I cook for you,’ Alain says meaningfully as he takes two steps backwards. ‘Yes?’
‘Okay,’ I reply with a smile.
‘Sounds like we have a plan,’ Charlie comments as Alain hurries back indoors. He looks at me. ‘You and I are going on a date,’ he says with a smirk.
I suddenly feel very jittery.
Is this too much? I ask myself later, as I eye my reflection in the mirror behind the wardrobe door. My dark hair is down and wavy and I’m wearing the nicest thing I’ve brought with me, but it’s a bit over the top: a silvery, shimmery slip dress with a hemline that floats around the halfway point of my thighs. With heels, my legs look crazy long.
I love this dress. I bought it on a whim, but I haven’t had a chance to wear it yet. Fuck it. Seize the day, right?
‘Whoa,’ Charlie says when I come downstairs, treading carefully so I don’t slip on the polished wood and break an ankle. ‘I feel underdressed.’
‘You still look hot,’ I tell him with a flippant grin. He’s wearing navy shorts and a green T-shirt.
‘Not as hot as you.’
A thrill goes through me, even though he’s teasing. I know he still sees me only as a friend, but maybe this dress will help to change that. There I go, trying to lay foundations, again.
‘I’m putting a shirt on,’ he says, leaving the room.
‘Are you serious?’ I call after him.
He doesn’t reply, but I think that he is.
‘This’ll do,’ he says on his return. He’s kept his navy shorts on – they’re quite smart, anyway – but he’s changed his green T-shirt to a black shirt and he’s rolling up the sleeves. ‘Still up for cocktails at the cave bar?’ he asks.
‘Absolutely.’
We plan to feed April first, then pop back to settle her and meet the sitter before going to eat ourselves.
We sip our drinks and watch as the restaurant vendors pack up for the night and the visiting tourists board their long-tail boats to return to their own islands.
‘Have you seen anything of Jocelyn and Edward since I left Cornwall?’ I ask Charlie.
‘Actually, April and I went over there for Sunday lunch before we came away.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah.’ He smiles at my delight. ‘I think you’re right about Edward. He is shy. He was more relaxed at home. Mind you, it might’ve had something to do with the bottle of red we sank.’
‘Do you think you could be friends?’
‘Maybe. We’ll see.’
‘I miss Jocelyn,’ I admit. ‘I barely knew her, but I liked her a lot.’
‘She’s still trying to get me to go to that music group,’ he reveals.
I wish I could be there to see his face if he does.
‘I’ve finally agreed to take Mum up on her offers to help out a bit more with April,’ he continues. ‘Maybe I should ask her to do Wednesday mornings so she can take her.’
‘You’re missing out,’ I warn.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ he replies with a smile.
Later, I wait by the pool while Charlie introduces April to the sitter, who is indeed a lovely, friendly lady. April seems to like her, but Charlie wants to make sure she’s asleep before we leave, and he instructs the sitter to call us if she wakes up.
The resort’s Thai restaurant is situated further along the beach near the towering limestone cliffs. We’re taken to a table for two outside on the balcony facing the water, and we order a bottle of wine before perusing the menu.
‘Is it wrong that I just really fancy a pad Thai?’ I ask Charlie.
‘No, why?’ he replies with a laugh.
‘It’s so predictable and boring.’
‘You should have whatever you feel like,’ he states. ‘Anyway, it comes with lobster. That’s hardly predictable.’
‘True,’ I say, my mind made up.
The sunset that evening is even more breathtaking than the last. The pale-green water is so still tonight – it barely laps against the white sandy shore. As the light dims, our faces are lit by the candle on the table and the fairy lights in the nearby trees.
‘Is that a couple swimming?’ I peer further down the beach.
‘I think so,’ Charlie replies. ‘That’ll be us later.’
‘Shall we?’ I ask eagerly. Night swimming!
He shrugs and returns his smile to me. ‘Could do.’
The waiter comes over with our food.
‘Are you going to see Isak again?’ Charlie asks after we’ve tried each other’s dish. This is seriously the best pad Thai I have ever had in my entire life. Charlie’s beef curry is bloody good, too.
‘Nah, don’t think I’ll need to,’ I reply.
Ladies and gentlemen, that is the right answer! The relief on his face is palpable.
‘How did you cope reading Nicki’s novel?’ I’m perplexed. It’s obvious he hasn’t come to terms with what happened years ago.
‘In what way?’ he asks, leaning back in his seat and staring at me.
‘Well, if you know that Isak inspired Timo, how did that make you feel?’
‘Truthfully?’ He raises one eyebrow.
I nod.
‘Like absolute shit.’
I start with surprise.
‘Nicki didn’t tell me she was writing a book about cheating.’
‘You’re kidding me.’
‘I’m not. She said that it was about a travel writer and that it was set in Thailand and Cornwall. She told me it was a romance, but she didn’t go into details – it wasn’t exactly my cup of tea.’
‘How did you find out?’ I ask.
‘When she got a book deal.’
‘No!’
‘Yeah.’
‘You hadn’t read it before she submitted it?’
‘No. But Kate had.’
I push my food around on my plate.
‘Nicki didn’t really want me to read it,’ he continues, and his expression is full of sympathy when I meet his eyes. He knows how much what happened with Kate upset me. ‘You’re the only one who knows that, though,’ he says.
‘Knows what?’ I ask with confusion.
‘That Nicki submitted her book without telling me what it was about.’
‘How did you react when you found out?’
‘We had a massive argument. Massive,’ he states. He shrugs and looks away. ‘I don’t know, I guess I felt a bit betrayed. It’s probably just as well I couldn’t stick my nose in. Look how well it did. Women obviously like reading about that sort of stuff.’
I shift in my seat. I liked reading it, too.
‘I’m surprised you enjoyed it, actually,’ he says. Has he got a telescope into my mind? ‘You’re so anti-cheating.’
‘I am.’ I nod. ‘It wasn’t the cheating I liked reading about – in fact, a lot of the time I was screaming at Kit and wanting to hit her over the head with something hard.’
He smirks.
‘It was the falling-in-love part that got me. And this book had two love stories. Nicki wrote them so well.’ I take a sip of my wine and pause for thought, then throw him a worried look. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to pull off this sequel, if I’m honest.’
‘Is it stressing you out?’
‘A bit,’ I admit. ‘The pressure is immense. All her readers. . . I’m not sure what they expect from this story, but I don’t want to let them down.’
‘You just have to do what you think is right,’ he says. ‘I have faith in you.’
‘Thank you.’ I mean it sincerely. ‘The thing is, I do believe Nicki was going to have Kit marry both Morris and Timo, so I want to respect her wishes. That’s the book that I’m writing. You remember the baby theme I came up with?’
‘Yes.’ He nods. ‘Kit realises she can’t bring children into the mix.’
‘That’s right. And her relationship with Morris breaks down because he wants a family and she doesn’t.’
I think of Liam and know that I’ll be writing that part from my own personal experience.
‘I thought it was a great idea,’ he says.
‘Thanks.’ I smile at him.
‘And Timo?’ he asks.
‘He doesn’t even want children,’ I remind him.
‘Maybe he finds out he can’t have them,’ he says. ‘But he refuses to adopt.’
‘That’s a good idea. Once Kit is his and only his, she realises she’ll never be happy.’
‘So she ends up sad and alone?’
I regard him warily. ‘How do you feel about that?’
‘How do I feel about you writing a book about a bigamist who ends up sad and alone?’ He checks I’m being serious.
‘Yes.’ I nod. ‘I’m not sure it’s what Nicki would have wanted.’
‘She’s not here, so we can’t second-guess her, but I think that ending feels appropriate.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep. If you’re going to bring this story crashing down around Kit’s ears, I support that. Nicki built the story up; it’s your job to tear it down. But, for God’s sake, make it clean, because the last thing we need are readers wanting a trilogy.’
I grin at him.
He smiles back at me and tops up my wine.
‘I told you, you were the only inspiration I needed,’ I say.
We chink glasses.
Charlie goes back to the hut to make sure everything is okay with April after dinner, but he tells me he’ll meet me on the beach. As soon as he’s gone, I realise I meant to ask him to bring our swimming costumes back. Hopefully he’ll remember.
He doesn’t.
‘There’s no one around,’ he says with a mischievous glint in his eye. It’s true. The beach is completely deserted.
‘Are you suggesting we partake in a spot of skinny dippy, Mr Laurence?’ I ask cheekily. We’re both a little drunk.
‘I’m game if you are,’ he replies.
‘You first,’ I say.
He shrugs and unbuttons his shirt. Thankfully it’s dark up here by the cliffs, because I am blushing.
I turn my back on him and shiver as I hear the sound of a zip going down.
‘See you in there,’ he says.
When I hear his footsteps padding away across the sand, I have a quick look over my shoulder at his tall, naked body in the moonlight.
I’m still trying to compose myself when he calls out to me. I turn around and make a spinning gesture with my forefinger in the air. He gets the hint and looks the other way. I slip out of my knickers and pull my slip dress over my head, then wade in.
As soon as I’m submerged nearby, I say, ‘Hi.’
‘Hi,’ he replies, turning around to smile at me. ‘Nuts, huh?’
‘Ridiculous,’ I reply.
The sky is sparkling with starlight, punctuated only by the dark, ghostly shapes of the nearby cliffs and islands.
Charlie looks at the shore, where the resort restaurants are glowing with candles at either end of the beach.
‘Was April okay when you went back to check on her?’
‘Fine. Hey, how do they say hello again?’ he asks me. ‘The sitter said it and the other staff say it all the time, but I can never catch it.’
‘It’s pronounced sawasdee,’ I tell him. ‘Sa-was-dee.’
He repeats it. ‘Think I’ve got it now. Seems to be their go-to phrase here.’
‘It is.’ I’m about to float on my back when I remember that I’m not wearing anything.
‘What did Sara say when she found out about you and Elliot?’ Charlie asks curiously.
‘I haven’t told her yet.’
‘Why not?’
I shrug, but don’t give him an answer.
‘I still don’t really understand why you didn’t tell me.’ He doesn’t just sound curious now: he sounds a bit hurt. ‘That’s a big thing to leave out. I thought we were friends.’
‘We are,’ I confirm quietly. He’s facing the shore, but I’ve paddled off to his left.
‘Is that it?’ he asks, giving me a sidelong look. ‘Can you really not give me a better explanation? I don’t even know if he broke up with you or if you ended it.’
‘I ended it,’ I confess.
‘Why?’
How can I answer him? I sigh, softly. ‘I can’t talk about this now.’
If I reveal that we broke up because I’m in love with someone else, I’ll be laying all of my cards out on the table.
‘Yeah, I guess not,’ he says gruffly, looking away. ‘It’s not like I can give you a seven-second hug if you get upset,’ he adds, injecting humour into his tone.
I laugh. ‘Why not?’ Bolstered by how much wine I’ve had to drink, it comes out sounding a little flirty.
‘Do you want to get a stiffy against your hip?’ he asks with a grin, casting me another sideways look.
I laugh again. ‘I thought I wasn’t fanciable.’
‘I never said you weren’t fanciable.’ He remembers that conversation, too. ‘I said I didn’t fancy you.’
Too well, it seems.
My stomach falls, but before I can swim away, he catches my hand.
‘In my defence,’ he adds, pulling me back towards him, ‘you did have a boyfriend at the time.’ He gives me a pointed look and adds, ‘You also said you didn’t fancy me.’
‘I don’t feel like that any more,’ I whisper, shocking myself. What am I doing?
Unsurprisingly, that comment renders him speechless. I try to extricate my hand, but he grips me harder.
‘Bridget?’ he questions in a low voice.
‘Charlie?’ I reply, mimicking his tone. He doesn’t smile. He’s looking straight at me, deadly serious, and his eyes are glinting in the light from the fairy lights dangling in the trees on the beach.
A shiver ripples through me.
‘Are you cold?’ he asks, and I wonder if it’s an attempt to change the subject. I should be relieved.
But I’m not.
‘A little,’ I reply.
‘You want to get out?’
‘No.’ Yes! The answer is yes! I’ve had too much to drink. We both have. We’re not thinking straight.
He brings me closer to his side, so close that I can feel the heat radiating from him. My breast brushes against his bicep and he breathes in sharply, his grip on my hand becoming vice-like. Somewhere in my alcohol-riddled brain I’m aware of just how ‘unfriendly’ our stance is, but rational thought has completely deserted me.
A long, torturous moment passes when I don’t know what’s going to happen next. My head is spinning and his gaze is searing as he stares at me in the darkness, and then he turns to face me and slides both of his hands around my waist, slowly pulling me closer until my naked skin collides firmly with his. Holy shit! I can feel him down there, pressing against me. My insides turn to liquid.
Without thinking, I slide my fingers up his bare, ripped chest, over his broad shoulders, and into the hair at the nape of his neck. His lips part and an audible groan escapes, and then our mouths come together and the stars above our heads explode with dizzying brilliance.
I gasp into his kiss as his arms lock me hard against his naked, slippery body, shivers spiralling up and down my spine as his tongue strokes against mine. Is this actually happening?
His mouth suddenly slides away. His chest is heaving, but I can sense his hesitation. He meets my eyes again, apprehension beginning to cloud his features.
No. . . No. . . We can’t go back now.
I press my thumb to his brow and smooth away the lines that have formed there.
This feels too good to stop. . .
We’re obviously in agreement, because suddenly his strong arms are lifting me up, and I’m wrapping my legs around his slim waist, the salty, buoyant water helping to sustain my weight.
We both gasp against each other as he lowers me onto him. It feels so intense, so raw. Our lips stay locked together and the water laps against our skin as he begins to move.
Afterwards, I don’t want him to let me go. I stay in his arms, my legs wrapped around him and my face pressed against his neck. He kisses my collarbone.
‘We should get back,’ he whispers.
I very, very reluctantly let him go.
We wade in silence back to the beach. We didn’t bring towels and I feel exposed, but it would be crazy to ask him to turn around after what’s just happened. I pull my dress back over my wet body and he does the same with his shorts. Then we pick up our shoes and walk barefoot back to our hut, neither of us saying a word.
I want to ask him if he’ll sleep with me tonight, but I sense he might need to gather his thoughts. That was his first time since Nicki died. I only hope he doesn’t regret it in the morning.