Harkett's Haven (8 page)

‘A lot better after a sleep,’ she smiled and yawned again

‘There’s not much that doesn’t seem better after a sleep.’ Rachel took her small hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Eric pulled the covers from
Esme and held her hand, guiding her back to the hatch in the floor and helping her climb down the first few rungs of the ladder.

‘This is such a cool place to stay,’
Esme said as she took a last glance round Rachel’s attic bedroom as she descended.

When Rachel got down to her living room, Eric was pulling
Esme’s jacket round her, pulling her hat on.

He crossed to Rachel as she stood watching them prepare to brave the weathe
r,

He kissed her
and hugged her close.

‘Thanks Rachel. I meant what I said about tomorrow. I’ll be past here first thing.’

Rachel was surprised that Eric was so open with her in front of Esme; they had known each other for such a short time and she thought it would have been more appropriate to keep their situation quiet until, and if, things developed further. Their short time together had all the hallmarks of a one night stand, a brief fling perhaps but it felt so much more than that. There was a connection between them, something elemental. Rachel was not one to believe in fate but there was something about the way they met, their intense attraction to each other, which led her to feel this was not simply hormones overriding common sense.

‘Come on
Esme. Hold on to me please.’

‘Wait Dad.’
Esme ran to Rachel ansurto Rachd threw her arms around her, hugging her tight.

Rachel returned
her hug, delighted, shrugging her astonishment at Eric.

Eric watched the two of
them and grinned before being nearly bowled over by a returning Esme.

‘Prepare to make a run for it
Esme.’ He turned a last time before opening the door and silently mouthed, ‘
Tomorrow.’

Rachel rolled
her eyes and nodded reluctantly, smiling.

‘Take care you two.’

The door was opened and the peace of the house was shattered as the noise of the wind and rain forced their entry through the open door.

She quickly shut the
door and went to the window to watch them. They rushed to the car and started off down the gravel driveway, Esme waving frantically to her until the car disappeared out of sight.

Rachel hugged herself tight, smil
e wide on her face.

The warmth of the affection that she had felt fr
om Esme was glowing like an ember inside her. Eric’s attention and obvious desire had unexpectedly charmed her, letting her believe once again in the idea of romance, feeling again a bit like a kid in the throws of that first crush.

Her exper
ience with Tom had been suppressing and subjugating in so many ways. Her meeting with Eric and Esme after her self-imposed period of solitude was a revelation, reminding her how special life could be when there was something in it worth living for. She wanted to find out how this was going to play out and knew that tomorrow she would wake up excited, butterflies in her stomach, waiting for Eric to knock on her door.

It had been over a year
since she had left Tom. A year of living in fear of him finding her. A year of keeping herself to herself, off radar and out of sight. A year of keeping contact with outsiders limited as much as possible; she knew that people talked and especially people in remote communities. The privacy the area provided was a double edged sword because a stranger in the area generated more talk and gossip than an anonymous new neighbour in a big city but Rachel needed the peace and solitude to heal.

Was a year
long enough for Tom to have moved on? Could she now begin to get on with her own life and try to forget about him?

She thought maybe yes. Tom was handsome and extremely wealthy. She didn’t think he woul
d waste much time moving on after he had tried to find her, as she knew he would initially have tried to do. The temptation of the beautiful young women who were always offering themselves to him surely would be too much for him to resist and she hoped that her memory and whatever he thought she meant to him would fade and he would move on. Yes, surely after a year. Surely now.

She had left Tom on the eve of their wedding night, a wedding that she had been forced into. Even now she couldn’t believe that she had found herself in a position where she felt forced into walking down the aisle
.bou size=" Who would have believed her? To a handsome, multi-millionaire lover who gave her everything she could wish for? Who worshipped the ground that she walked on?

And yes, he had given her everything ..............except her freedom. She had fled with the passport he had hidden from her and that she had found. She had fled with the cash that she
had squirreled away over the months leading up to her wedding, the money he had given her to buy the clothes he wanted to see her in. She had planned her escape, at first as a fuzzy, undefined half-thought. Gradually her thoughts focussed, clarified and sharpened and although not finely detailed, she knew what she had to do. She understood that she would have to get as far away from Boston as she could and that she couldn’t go home to Scotland immediately. She needed enough money to live on for a number of months. Only then she felt she might return home anonymously and in relative safety.  And then to find a job in a remote location, away from prying eyes and chattering tongues. To lie low in blissful, anonymous peace. She had boarded a flight to Oslo, her thinking was that she was still close to home and she could lay low in a place she knew, in the fjords or hills, for a number of weeks and see what happened. She ended up tutoring English for six months until she had enough courage to make her way back to Scotland on the ferry.

When she had first moved into the cottage she had jumped at every phone call and knock at the door. Her sleep had been fitful and shallow
. Every car she had seen on the horizon made her want to run and hide. It had been months until she started to relax and her jangling nerves had numbed.

She had imagined what would happen if he did find her and come after her. How could she fight such a man alone? Would she give in to him, return with him to live the life he wanted her to live?

These thoughts had diminished slowly over the months she had been here and there was now even the occasional day when Tom never crossed her mind.

As s
he sat in front of the cracking stove, she felt warm and comfortable, not only physically but mentally safe and comfortable. Something she had not felt for such a long time.

She got up to pour herself a small, medicinal whisky and retu
rned to the sofa with the glass in her hand.

The
phone rang making her jump and spill some of the amber liquid on her shirt.

‘Shit.’

Grabbing the phone she answered with an irritated, ‘Hello.’

There was silence
, a few clicks.

‘Hello
?,’ she asked again, brushing the stain from her top

She listened more intently, the silence now total.

A shiver running down her spine, she ended the call as fast as her finger could press the small red button.

Taking a gulp of the whisky, she stared at the phone as if it was some kind of animate creature.

‘Sales call. Just sales....’ She shook herself and went back the sofa. Why this call spooked her she didn’t know. She guessed it must be thinking of Tom that had made her edgy about this part

Her old demons returne
d to haunt her that night as she lay under the eaves of the house. Repeatedly she got up to stare out the window checking for approaching cars. She checked the door latch and locks repeatedly, made sure the windows were secure. When she eventually fell asleep, Tom waited for her in her dreams.

4.

R
achel woke the next morning to a hammering at the door. She sat up in bed, confused and sleep-befuddled, her dreams lingering into her first waking moments.

Checking her alarm clock the time read 8:37. God, she had slept in. It was the first time on years that she had woken so late. She was normally up with the larks and ready for the day
ahead hours before now.

As the knocking at the door continued, panic struck as
she wondered who it could be. Her heart hammered in her chest and her mouth went dry as sandpaper.

Leaping out of bed, she went to the roof window and stood on her toes to see if there was a car in front of the cottage.

It was Eric’s car. Relief swept through her and she made her way down the ladder and to the front door.

She pulled back the chain and the deadbolt at the top and bottom of the door, turned the key and the Yale lock and
pulled the door open.

Eric’s face was full of concern.

‘Are you OK Rachel?’ He took her face in his hands and pulled her close to him.

She couldn’t help laughing, half with relief,
half with the absurdity of the idea that she had slept in at all.

‘Yes.
God yes. I’m just fine Eric. Promise.... I just slept in that’s all. First time in years.’

He bent to kiss her and lifted her back into the house.

‘You feel great Rachel. Warm from the bed.’

He slipped his hands up under her cotton top and she yelped.

‘Your hands are freezing.’

Eric looked fresh
, and if it were possible, even more handsome than she remembered. His black hair looked shower damp, swept off his pale face. His eyes were deep and dark, beautiful, alluring. He wore a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt under the waterproof he was removing and his arms were muscled and defined.

His eyes swept over her, lingering on her breasts and she became aware of her tousled, just-out-of bed appearance
and her lack of clothes. She wore a simple white t-shirt to bed and had done ever since she had left Tom. Tom had liked her to wear silk camisoles to bed. He had bought them for her and the once she had bought herself a simple cotton nightshirt and wore it to bed, he had ripped it from her and threw it on the fire.

Rachel pulled her long dark hair back into a rough knot and stood self-consciously in front of him.

‘I keep saying this to you Rach shel and the last thing I want to do is embarrass you but....you are just so lovely......so beautiful.’ His voice was soft and gentle and his eyes told her he was sincere.

‘Can I take you upstairs?’

Rachel smiled shyly at him.

‘I though
t you’d never ask Doctor Harkett.’

Eric made his way to the ladder, pulling off his shoes and t-shirt as he walked, turning to pull her behind him.

‘Please go first Eric. I don’t have anything on under this...’

Eric smiled at her and climbed the ladder steps, waiting at the top to take her hand and help her into the attic bedroom
to stand beside him.

Standing beside the hatch, he lifted her night shirt over her head and pulled her naked body to him, pressing her soft breasts into his bare chest
, running his hand over her firm bottom and lifting her up to press her into his crotch.

He kissed her softly and slowly. The urgency of their lovemaking these last few days was gone; there were no time constraints or worry about
Esme discovering them. He lifted her to the bed, threw back the duvet and lowered her gently to the soft mattress.

Removing his jeans and underwear he lay in the bed beside her and pulled the covers over them.

Cocooned under the warm blankets his hands roamed over her as he kissed her leisurely. His hands pushed between her legs, his eyes closed.