Chapter Seven

Izzy

When I finally get home, it’s dark, which means it must be around nine p.m., later than I intended. I haven’t switched my phone on again, so I can’t be sure.

My feet are sore, and I’m ready to drop. I’m glad of the tiredness, though. It means hopefully I won’t lie in bed tonight with my mind whirring. I plan to have a glass of whisky while watching something mindless on TV, then crash out. And hopefully, tomorrow my emotions will have put themselves into a reasonable order that I can deal with.

I turn the corner of the road and head up to where Albie’s house sits on the hill. Someone’s home because the lights are on and nobody’s thought to draw the curtains, but I cross my fingers that I’ll be able to slip past them into my room. There are a few cars outside, but I presume they’re visiting the house next door, as it’s rare for any of us to have guests this late.

I open the front door, then stop and stare in alarm. The living room seems full of people, all talking at once. I spot Albie and Leon, Stefan and Fitz, Summer and Jules. Nix is there, too. Hal’s not though. At first I feel relieved, then alarmed. What’s going on? Has there been some kind of disaster at the Ark?

Nix glances over at the door, and her face lights with relief. “She’s here,” she calls, and she comes over and puts her arms around me.

Everyone cheers, and they come up too, their faces also full of relief. I stare at them over Nix’s shoulder, rigid in her arms. “What the fuck’s going on?”

She moves back. Her face is flushed; she knows how much I’m going to hate this. “They were worried about you,” she says. “I kept trying to tell them you were okay, but Hal went into overdrive when Albie got home and you weren’t here. We were just about to go out looking for you.”

“Where is he?” I snap, furious at his idiocy.

“He’s at Leon’s,” she says. “Don’t worry. I told him you might not want to see him.” She gives me a look. Someone’s obviously told her what happened today. I close my eyes. Does the whole sanctuary know?

“Don’t be too hard on him.” Leon shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “It’s not like you to just take off, that’s all, and he knows he upset you. That’s the last thing he wanted.”

“What the hell did he think I was going to do? Walk into the sea?” Honestly, the ego of the man…

“You should call him.” Nix is looking at Leon.

“Already on it.” Albie has his phone to his ear.

My brother comes up to me and frowns. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. For God’s sake, I only went for a walk.”

Fitz looks over his shoulder. “All right, everyone. Panic over. Thanks for your help.” He watches them start to leave, hanging back a little.

Summer comes over first and gives me a hug before she walks out. Stefan ruffles my hair as if I’m twelve before leaving. Jules flashes me a smile and follows him, closing the door behind her.

Embarrassed that everyone’s made such a fuss over nothing, I walk out of the room and into the kitchen, find a tumbler, and start pouring a whisky. Fitz follows me, and he leans on the wall, his arms folded.

“I guess someone’s enlightened you as to what’s going on,” I say, disgruntled.

“Yeah.”

I shake my head and take a big gulp of the whisky. “Sorry you had to get involved. Hal’s being an idiot.”

“Because he likes you?”

“He doesn’t like me,” I say impatiently. “He only thinks he does. He’s making it all up. He gave me this cock-and-bull story about you warning him off as a teen.”

“Yeah, about that,” he says. “That actually happened.”

I stop with the glass resting on my lips and stare at him. “What?”

He shrugs. “The guy had women coming out of his ears, if you pardon the expression. It wasn’t that he didn’t respect them, but the two of you were seventeen, for Christ’s sake. I knew you liked him, and I didn’t want him to break your heart. I told him if he went anywhere near you, I’d knock his teeth down his throat.”

The words are close enough to Hal’s that I know he’s telling the truth.

“I told him again when we started at the sanctuary,” he confirms. “You’d had a hard time with Dad and everything. I knew you’d love working at the Ark, and I didn’t want Hal to spoil that for you, so I told him I’d let you work there providing he kept his distance.”

“You’d let me,” I state flatly.

“Yeah, I know. So sue me. I meant well.” He cocks his head to the side. “He’s broken up with Rosie?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you and he dating now?”

“No.”

“But he wants to?”

I hesitate. “So he says.”

“You don’t like him that way?” I open my mouth to deny it, but the words don’t come out. Fitz’s expression softens. “He’s a good guy,” he points out. “He’s grown up a lot.”

“Fitz, you’re only two years older. You sound like his father.”

“Even so. If you want to go out with him… I give my permission.” He’s teasing me now, sort of. I glare at him, and he leans forward and kisses my forehead.

Albie appears in the doorway and holds out his phone. “Hal wants to talk to you.”

I feel a deep longing to hear my best friend’s voice, followed by a surge of irritation at all the fuss, and suddenly I feel incredibly tired. “Not tonight, Albie.”

He hesitates. Emotion wells within me, and he obviously spots it because he puts the phone to his ear. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.” He pulls the phone away from his ear, and I hear Hal shouting at him. Mild amusement mingles with exasperation, and I walk away.

I can’t think. Hal’s declaration of his feelings was bad enough, but I’d managed to convince myself on the walk that it was all a huge mistake, conjured up by some idiotic loneliness on his part, and that tomorrow we’d all have a good laugh about it and everything would return to normal.

But Fitz’s announcement that he has talked to Hal in the past, warning him off, has shocked me deeply. He knows he upset you, Leon said. That’s the last thing he wanted.

Could it possibly be true that Hal meant what he said? That he really does have feelings for me that go deeper than friendship?

In the living room, I sink onto the sofa, the whisky glass in my hand. Fitz comes over and kisses my hair, then says softly, “See you tomorrow, kid,” and he goes out the front door. Leon murmurs something to Nix, then follows Fitz out the door. Now it’s just me, Nix, and Albie.

“Want us to leave you alone?” Nix says.

I sigh, shake my head, and lean back. “I’m so sorry.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” Albie tells me, lowering onto a chair. “I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. I knew you’d be back eventually.”

The whisky threads slowly through my veins, and I relax, exhausted. “What did Hal say?”

“He was relieved you’re back,” Albie says. “Cross you wouldn’t talk to him. Not cross at you, at himself. He said he’s been an idiot and gone about it all wrong.”

So he does realize it was all a mistake. I feel a huge sweep of relief and then, oddly, a blanket of sadness settles over me. For a few strange hours, I thought Hal loved me. Not just as a friend, but as something more. I didn’t want it. But I discover that I’m sad to lose it.

“Where did you go?” Nix asks.

“I walked to Opua, then went through the forest for a while.”

“He must really have upset you,” Nix says. “What did he actually say?”

“That he wants us to be more than friends. It was all bullshit, Nix, he doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. I’m just angry that he was willing to jeopardize our friendship to add me as a notch on his bedpost.”

Nix looks at Albie, who just raises his eyebrows. That makes me smile. I doubt Albie has any idea what’s going on. He’s pretty clueless where relationships are concerned, a lot like his father, Charlie. Not that he doesn’t date. I can contest to the way the headboard bangs against the wall and the female moans that emit from his room that, when he brings a girl home, he knows what he’s doing in the bedroom. But he’s still single, and I don’t think he’s come close to a long-term relationship. I hope he does. He’s cute—tall, gorgeous, and a billionaire, for God’s sake. He shouldn’t have any trouble getting a decent partner, but neither should any of us at the Ark, and we’re all single, apart from Summer, who’s married with a couple of kids.

I’ve only known Nix a couple of years, but we hit it off right away, and we’ve become firm friends. She works at the Ark as Leon’s PA. She’s about five-seven, curvier than me, and with beautiful shoulder-length blonde hair that makes her look like an angel. She’s not. She’s grumpy in the mornings, she can’t cook to save her life, and she can swear like a trooper, words that make even me blush, and after being around Hal and his cousins for eighteen years I’ve grown almost immune to the effect of swearing.

I think she’s got a thing about her boss, although she would never admit it. Leon’s a tad scary to those who don’t know him as well as we do—he’s outspoken and not afraid to say what he’s thinking—he has to be, as head of HR, to keep the large staff at the Ark in line, as there are a lot of youngsters who volunteer to help out with the animals. Nix has him in hand now, so to speak—I think he’s attracted to her, but he’s very anti relationships in the workplace, so I don’t know if they’ll ever hook up.

My eyelids are drooping, and I finish off the whisky. “I’m going to bed,” I tell them. We all rise, and I give Nix a hug, then Albie. He kisses the top of my head.

“Sorry again for the fuss,” I say.

Nix waves her hand. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”

I put the whisky glass in the kitchen and head off to bed.

I go into my bathroom, undress, and take my long-sleeved pajama top from the back of the door. As I turn, I catch sight of myself in the mirror, and I pause for a moment, my gaze skimming over my reflection. I rarely look at myself like this. When I do, I start by telling myself I’m lucky. Lucky that the boiling water missed my face, because it could have been so much worse. The burn starts on the right side of my neck and runs over my right shoulder, down to my elbow, and halfway down my forearm. It continues down my front, over my right breast, although thankfully the nipple is mostly untouched—the water must have run either side of it. The scar goes over my ribs, and there are also patches on my right shoulder blade and back.

The skin is puckered and ugly, a landscape of ridges and furrows. I never bare my body to the sun, so it’s mostly pale, although the scar itself has pink patches. It feels tight, and although it’s not sore anymore, I have to be careful when I’m lifting animals or other heavy objects because the scars can occasionally pull and tear.

I’ve thought about having plastic surgery in the past, but to be honest I’m afraid of the pain, and I’m also secretly fearful it might somehow make it worse. That probably sounds ridiculous, but I’ve grown used to the scars now, and as I have no intention of anyone seeing them again, I decided some years ago to live with them.

I pull on the pajama top, slide on the bottoms, then turn off the light.

Once I’m in bed, I take my phone from the bedside table and turn it on for the first time since leaving the Ark. It pings immediately, and I see I have over twenty messages. Fifteen of them are from Hal. I scan through them—they start gentle, apologetic, and gradually get more and more alarmed as time goes by.

I read the last one. It’s me again. I don’t know where you are. I hope you read this soon. I miss you, and I’m sorry I upset you. I hope I haven’t lost your friendship. You know I’ll always be yours. Hal.

I turn off the phone again and curl on my side, hugging the pillow to me. I hope I haven’t lost his friendship either. We can get over this, can’t we? Pretend it never happened?

Everyone makes mistakes, and he’s just a guy, when it comes to it, and guys are dense and clueless. It’s up to women to rise above it, to lift their chins and pretend everything’s okay. To hold the fort and carry on.

You know I’ll always be yours.

I sigh and close my eyes.

*

The next day, I arrive at the surgery a little later than usual, just after eight a.m. I park in my usual spot to the side of the Ark, and walk across the square to the veterinary center, saying hello to the people I pass.

I thought I’d feel calmer today. Albie’s words had reassured me that Hal had come to his senses, and I thought I’d feel back to normal, maybe a tad exasperated at all the fuss.

But I feel nervous—my heart’s racing, and it’s like I can’t catch my breath. My mouth’s gone dry. This is ridiculous. I’m getting all hot under the collar over Hal King, something I told myself when I was fourteen would never happen. I’m cross at myself, and at him for starting off this chain reaction of stupidity.

I walk into the center and let the door close behind me. It’s busy, as it always is in the morning, with a couple of customers waiting for the emergency clinic to open, worried about their pets who’ve developed issues overnight. I can see Stefan in his room, already sorting out a Yorkie who seems to be having issues breathing, probably a collapsed trachea judging by the fact that the dog looks like a football, fat as, and it has a distinct honking cough.

Em’s behind the reception desk, and she looks up as I cross over to her. To my relief, she just smiles and doesn’t mention the events of the day before. “A teenager brought in a bag of kittens he found down by the river,” she tells me. “Hal’s working his way through them if you want to join him.”

I hesitate, tempted to say I’m busy, but I’ve got to get this over with at some point, so I cross the waiting area to Hal’s room.

One of the nurses—not Rosie, I’m relieved to see—has put five of the kittens in a pen in the corner of the room, and Hal’s leaning on his table, examining a sixth. I watch him for a moment. Even though we run the Animal Welfare Team, we take turns with some of the other vets in being on call, and today is one of our days in the surgery. Consequently, he’s not donned his SPCA uniform today. Instead, he’s wearing tight jeans and an All Blacks rugby shirt, one of the new performance home jerseys. They’re ultra-tight, to make it difficult for rugby opponents to grab. As he straightens, I can see every defined muscle in his chest. He has a six-pack. How did I not know he has a six-pack? I’ve trained myself not to look, but today my gaze lingers of its own accord on his toned body, his muscular arms, with the gorgeous black tattoo that snakes out and curls around his right biceps. Although I rarely think of these things because I force my brain back on track every time it derails, I acknowledge now that he’s the handsomest, hottest, sexiest guy I’ve ever met.

Oblivious to the nuclear meltdown going on inside me, his hands are gentle, and he’s talking softly to the kitten, who’s sitting meekly in his hands, looking up at him the way the schoolgirl in the Indiana Jones movie does, with I love you written on her eyelids. It makes me smile, and my frustration fades away.

The kitten’s eyes are open, and its ears are unfolded—it looks to be about a week old. That it’s survived this long must mean it’s been with its mother.

“Some dehydration,” Hal is saying to the nurse. “But not too bad. The usual, Pru, please, bottle feeding every two hours, around the clock. Take it with the others to the hotel.”

He straightens and spots me in the doorway. I watch relief and pleasure spread across his face and feel a corresponding leap of my heart.

“Hey.” He strides across the room to me, and, before I can utter a word, he enfolds me in his arms. My nostrils are filled with the scent of warm male and the vanilla-based aftershave he uses. I always tease him that he smells of custard.

I stand stiffly for a moment, but he murmurs, “Izzy, come on, I’m sorry,” and I exhale and rest my forehead on his shoulder.

But my heart bangs on my ribs, and my pulse is racing. All I can think about is sliding my hands beneath his top and feelings those defined muscles for myself. Touching his warm skin and feeling him shudder. Pressing my lips to his.

Something’s happened. This time, the train’s derailed, and no amount of hauling it is going to get it back on the tracks.