Harkett's Haven (5 page)

Rachel sighed miserably. Eric was
charming and handsome. His daughter was a delight and he and Esme, like her, had been through some personal trauma. She didn’t mean to treat him like a meaningless one-off fuck but in the end, that’s what he was. As Claire and others before her had been to Eric. She didn’t want it to be anything else. Maybe if she had met him some other time things could’ve been different....

She pulled on the clothes, baggy and oversized as they were and checked her reflection in the mirror.

She had that after-sex glow, her hair slightly dishevelled and her face flushed. She left her hair down, took a deep breath, opened the bedroom door and headed down the stairs.

Esme
was playing with Jack in front of the TV still and hadn’t seemed to notice their absence.

‘Hey
Esme.’

‘Hi Rachel.’

Rachel sat down on the huge cream linen covered sofas. Esme scurried up to sit beside her, nestling into the crook of her arm, head against her chest.

‘Are those my dad’s trousers?’

The girl looked quizzically at her.

‘Yes. I had to borrow some clothes from your dad
; mine need a wash, dry and a mend after our adventure yesterday.’

Esme
smiled at her.

‘I’m so glad you’re staying.’

Rachel sighed softly.

‘Oh
Esme... I’m sorry. I’m just about to leave.’

The little girl turned her head
away but Rachel could see her eyes glisten.

‘Listen. I’
ve a job to do and I need to get back home to do it. As much as I’ve enjoyed being here with you and your Dad..... I just can’t stay any longer.’

‘What’s you
r job?’

‘I’m a marine biologist
and I think it’s just about the best job in the world.’

Esme
brightened up, interested.

‘Why?’

‘Well...a marine biologist studies life in the oceans. Plants and animals. My job is  to come here and write a report on intertidal organisms. Do you know what that means?’

Esme
shook her head, hanging on Rachel’s every word.

‘It means that I get to go down to the beach every day to look in the rock pools. I get paid for doi
ng that. Can you believe it?’ Rachel laughed.

‘That’s so cool!’ said
Esme.

‘I think it’s really cool too. I love my job.’

There was a quiet pause in their conversation.

‘I still wish you could stay longer.’

Rachel put her arms round her again.

‘You can come and visit if your Dad
’s OK with that.’

‘Dad’s OK with that,’ came the reply. Eric was standing by the door, listening to their conversation.

He looked relaxed now, the tension after their post-coital conversation now gone. His hair was slightly ruffled and he had changed into a blue shirt and cream trousers. He was very handsome, athletic and elegant. She was dismayed to feel that her attraction to him had intensified if anything after their lovemaking.

She chastised herself for not being able to resist him.
Their relationship, whether she liked it or not, now had an added level of complication. With Esme involved she couldn’t simply cut relations. This little girl had formed some kind of attachment to her and she couldn’t just an nn’t jbandon her. She felt it was only right to let Esme work this out of her system in her own time. She was sure that after a few visits, her interest and affection towards Rachel would diminish.

‘
Esme, come and get ready. We’re driving Rachel home.’

‘No Eric. I need to walk....you know
..get some fresh air. My house isn’t far from here. Thanks anyway,’ she interjected quickly.

‘
You’ve a bad cut to your arm and the weather’s closing in again. We’ll run you home.’ She could tell by his tone that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Esme
jumped to her feet, shouting for Jack to follow her, ‘I’ll get my jacket.’

Rachel rose to her feet. Eric continued to watch her from the doorway.

‘I’m not going to let you walk out of my life Rachel..... I don’t know what’s happened in your past but I want you to know that I’m not that man.’

Frustrated she sighed, ‘I ...I ....don’t want any ties Eric.’

Their conversation was halted as Esme bounded into the room, ran up to Rachel and threw her arms round her.

Eric joined her and held both of them together, kissing Rachel on her forehead.

For a brief moment, Rachel had a sense of belonging and it felt warm and welcome.

Eric broke their embrace and linked his arm through Rachel’s.

‘I’ll take you to the car.’ He winked at her and led her through a door leading from the kitchen, straight into a garage.

A large Audi 4x4 was parked there and Eric opened the passenger door for her, helping her climb into the sea
t. Esme bounded into the back seat with Jack following her closely.

‘Where’s home Rachel?’

He pressed a button on the dashboard and the garage door slowly opened. He drove the car through and into the sunshine. Rachel could see dark storm clouds were gathering on the horizon.

‘Drive up the coast to
Larig Beach. I’ve got the cottage at the north side of the bay.’

‘I know exactly where you are. It’s a beautiful place.
Fantastic views of that little island if I remember’

Rachel turned to
Esme in the back seat, ‘The island’s called Ersay. When you come and visit, I’ll show you the amazing creatures that live on the beach, maybe take you out to Ersay.’

‘I’d love that. When can I come?’

‘I’ll leave you my number and you can give me a call when you’ve some free time. I’m guessing you’ll be back to school tomorrow?’

She nodded and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

‘Are you back at the surgery tomorrow?’ she turned to look at Eric.

‘I think I’ll ask Jon to cover tomorrow...< tomorr.’

‘Ahh Dad,’ Esme protested, ‘you didn’t tell me you were taking an extra day off. Can I take a day off too?’

‘School tomorrow
Esme. I’ve got things I need to sort out tomorrow.’ He took his eyes off the road and held Rachel’s gaze.

‘So how
long’ve you been on the Peninsula Rachel?’ he changed the subject quickly

‘A
bout six months.’

‘And before that?’

‘America... then Sweden.’

‘Super cool!’
Esme chipped in, ‘Where in America?’

‘The east coast, Connecticut.’

Rachel felt uneasy speaking about her life before she came here. She knew the man she had left and the lengths he would go to find her. She knew that the less she told anyone here, the less chance, remote as it was, that Tom would find her.

‘Why did you come here
?,’ Esme’s question was filled with amazement that she could have left ‘super-cool’ America.

‘I had
a chance to do a great job and...well....I’m from Scotland and I wanted to come back here.’

‘It always rains and it’s quiet and ...and’

‘Yeah, I guess there are some drawbacks.’ She laughed. ‘So where did you live before you came to Ariskaig?’

Eric answer
ed quickly, ‘We used to live in London.’

‘We came here after Mum di
ed. Dad was a surgeon.’

Eric shifted uncomfort
ably in his seat. Rachel changed the subject quickly and started to point out various things of interest along the coast and for the next few minutes they travelled making easy conversation.

They had reached
Larig and Rachel could see her house silhouetted on the skyline. Large drops of rain had started to fall on the windscreen as the dark clouds caught up with and spilled over them.

‘It seems like I’ve been gone for ages.’ Rachel pointed to her house for Eric. ‘That’s home.
....there.’

They travelled the short distance from one end of the bay to the other in silence
, the intermittent patter of raindrops becoming a steady thrum.

The cottage was a small, whitewashed, traditional crofter’s cottage, a world away from the large, luxury modern home that Eric and
Esme lived in. It had just two rooms; an open plan kitchen and living room which took up the whole of the ground floor. The bedroom was in the loft, reached by a short ladder staircase. It was modest and cosy and the views of the sea and the beach rivalled that of Eric’s house. It was a place of retreat for Rachel. Somewhere she had found some peace and been able to heal emotionally.

The car climbed the e wclimbedgentle gradient to get to the cottage and
Eric pulled the car up the short gravelled road as close to the stout wooden door of the cottage as he could.

‘Well, thanks for the lift.’ Rachel felt awkward. She didn’t particularly want to ask them in to her house, to invade her private space but when she turned to say goodbye she saw
Esme’s expectant face. She didn’t have the heart to walk out the car without offering to ask them both in.

‘Would you like to pop in for a quick cup of....?’

‘Yes please!’ Esme had answered before she had finished her question.

‘What can I say....?’ Eric shrugged
and smiled, ‘I’d love a drink.’

They ran from the car, the rain drenched them on the few steps it took them to reach the front door, the wind throwing everything it could at them. Rachel fished her spare key from under a plant pot at the door and let them in.
After losing her bag on the beach, she was glad she had kept her spare key hidden at the cottage door for times like this. In a place as remote as Ariskaig, leaving a spare key somewhere around the home was simply practical.

She crossed the room to the stove in the fireplace and lit a match, watching the dry kindling catch with a pleasing whoosh. She moved round the room, switching on the light on the bookcase and the floor light, the reading lamp and the kitchen
under lighters.

Esme
and Eric stood by the door watching her.

‘Sorry
..sorry. Please come in and make yourself comfortable although I’d advise keeping your coats on ‘til the stove gets going. Doesn’t take long for the place to warm up.’ She smiled apologetically.

‘I love your house Rachel.’
Esme was the first to break the silence.

‘
Thanks Esme. I love it too.’ Rachel smiled at her.

The walls of the cottage were at least two feet thick
, the interior whitewashed, like the outside. The kitchen consisted of various stand-alone pieces of oak furniture; a large old table, which doubled as a food preparation area, wall shelves covered with pots and jars and plates and cups; a cream Smeg fridge and a big old ceramic Belfast sink. A cream Aga took centre stage in the gable wall. Rachel added some wood to the oven fire.

‘I normally keep the Aga running...it acts like central heating for
a place this size. There’s still some life left in it. Just needs a bit of a help.... .’

She filled the kettle and popped it on the stove.

Eric stood at her bookshelf, browsing her small library. Esme and Jack had bounced onto her old vintage brown leather sofa which was brimming with cushions, throws, newspapers and magazines. She watched Jack make himself at home, jumping off the sofa,  first sitting on the large rug beside the stove, grooming himself and stretching out then yawning and lying out with his head between his front paws. Esme had her head deep in a copy of the National Geographic.