Hidden Cottage (43 page)
In contrast to Mia shutting down her emotions – this was what she was doing, according to Muriel – Jeff’s emotions had seemed highly reactive when Owen had literally bumped into him outside Parr’s. The expression on his face had made Owen think of a nuclear reactor of anger just waiting to explode. It made Owen wonder how the man would behave if he ever discovered about him and Mia.
He couldn’t deny there had been numerous times since the day of Daisy’s funeral – when he’d witnessed for himself Jeff’s grief – that Owen had experienced flashes of guilt for what he had done. Yet it didn’t alter how he felt about Mia.
Their relationship had come to an end before it had really begun, but she was never far from his thoughts. Along with the dull ache of their separation and what could have been. He knew he should give up on the idea of there being anything more between them, but he wasn’t ready yet to do that. Better to hope than not, he’d once said to Mia.
‘Do you think you’ll leave here because of what’s happened?’
Rich’s question took Owen by surprise and he failed to find an answer.
His friend said, ‘I know what a sentimental old devil you are. My money’s on you now feeling that the happy idyll you’ve created for yourself has lost some of its charm for you.’
‘I never had you down as being so astute,’ Owen replied in a carefully neutral tone.
Rich shrugged. ‘Maybe you’ve always underestimated me. So, am I right? Are you going to sell up?’
Hi Eliza
,
Good news! My reputation has not gone before me in Maine and Tattie’s parents haven’t run me out of town. I see now where Tattie gets her frankness from; Tom and Barb are totally straight down the line. They could teach our family a thing or two!
How are you? Not working too hard? You and Simon OK? How’s Mum? Have you heard from her? I’ve only been away a few days, and I know it sounds stupid, but I kind of miss you. It must be the distance
.
Take care
.
J
.
It was a very untypical email from Jensen. Point of fact, before Daisy’s death, any email from him would have been a rarity and never would he have put into actual words something that resembled an emotion. But then Eliza was no one to talk; free-flowing sentiment was hardly her forte.
But here was Jensen saying he missed her and for the rest of the day his words resonated with her, right up until she’d finished work and was on her way home. Emerging from the underground into the darkness and rain, and without an umbrella, she shifted her heavy bags on her shoulder and made a dash for it, taking care to avoid the puddles and not to bump into anyone.
Taking care
.
There it was again, another reminder of Jensen’s email. Hadn’t she always done that? Hadn’t she always taken the path of care and extreme diligence? Simon said she was the most conscientious person he knew – compulsively conscientious was how he actually described her. He said he was on a mission to change her attitude and to bring some much-needed balance into her life. ‘I’m going to turn you into a productive slacker if it’s the last thing I do,’ he’d said only last night when she’d promised him she’d join him in bed in ten minutes’ time. It was an hour later when she finally switched off her laptop and slipped in beside him.
They were still in the early stages of their relationship, still discovering new things about each other. Surprising things at times. For instance, she’d had no idea that Simon was such a fantastic cook. The trouble was, he was a messy cook and used every pot, pan and utensil she possessed and turned her small, normally neat kitchen into a war zone. It drove her crazy. But since she wasn’t much of a cook, it wasn’t a bad trade-off.
Letting herself in, she was greeted by the smell of cooking. And music. She didn’t have a clue what it was, but Simon couldn’t be in the flat unless he had something playing. Music appreciation was another thing he was determined to teach her.
She was hanging up her wet coat when he appeared in the narrow hall. ‘I know, I know,’ she said tiredly, ‘I’m late. Again. I’m sorry.’
‘Another black mark against you,’ he said disapprovingly, ‘one to add to the many.’ He kissed her, his lips warm and inviting against her cold mouth. ‘Come on through and get warmed up. Supper’s nearly ready. What?’ he said, when she didn’t move or say anything.
‘Kiss me again, please.’
‘Any reason why?’
‘Because one of the things I love about you is that nothing ever fazes you.’
He pointed to the front door. ‘OK, you can turn around right now and go back wherever you’ve come from. I don’t want this imposter, I want my real girlfriend returned to me, the one who doesn’t dish out compliments at the drop of a hat.’
She laughed and kissed him for a very long time. ‘Can dinner wait a bit longer?’ she asked, tipping her head back and locking eyes with him.
‘Bed, Channing? At this hour of the evening?’
She pushed him towards the bedroom. ‘You’re always telling me to let go and be more spontaneous.’
Much later, when they were curled up on the sofa watching an episode of the latest series of
The Killing
, Eliza said, ‘Simon?’
‘Mmm . . .’
‘I’ve been thinking.’
‘Mmm . . .’
‘About us.’
He turned and looked at her. ‘That sounds ominous. Had I better put Lund on hold?’
She nodded and he pointed the remote control at the television, freeze-framing Sarah Lund against a gloomy Copenhagen skyline.
‘So what’s on your mind?’ he asked.
She suddenly felt unsure of herself. What had seemed so right in her head just seconds earlier now felt a step too far. She sat up straight so that she could look him square in the eye. No point in doing it any other way. ‘I was wondering if you’d like to move in on a permanent basis.’
‘Permanent,’ he repeated. ‘As opposed to—’
‘As opposed to how we currently go about things, dividing our time between two places. Of course, if you think it’s too soon or inappropriate I’d quite understand. It’s just a thought. Maybe a not very good thought. Maybe you like things how they are and think why change the status quo.’ Oh God, she silently groaned, somebody stop her from making this sound any worse than it did already.
He tilted his head to one side. ‘What’s brought this on?’
‘It makes sense,’ she said. ‘And would save us both time and money. I mean, you’re here virtually all the time anyway.’
‘So it would be an eminently
practical
arrangement?’
‘Well, yes. Obviously.’
‘Mmm . . . I need to think about that. You see, the thing is, I’m not sure I can commit to that.’
She felt her cheeks redden with regret and embarrassment. How did she always manage to get it so wrong? ‘Oh, right,’ she said, ‘well, like I said, it was probably presumptuous of me to suggest it. Forget I ever said anything.’ She nudged his hand with the remote control. ‘Go on, let’s get back to Sarah Lund.’
But Simon continued to leave the Danish investigator frozen on the screen. ‘Eliza,’ he said, ‘when I say I can’t commit to something that’s solely a practical solution, I mean that I’d prefer to move in with you for an entirely different reason. Such as I love being with you and hate it when we’re not together. So my question to you is: do you want me to move in solely because it’s a sensible and practical option, or because you want things to be more permanent between us?’
Realizing the mess she’d made of things, she said, ‘You’re such a smart arse at times.’
He smiled. ‘Go on, Channing, say the words. Get them out. Hear them and know them.’
‘Why do you tease me like this?’
‘I’m teaching you to express yourself.’ He tapped her leg with the remote control. ‘Still waiting to hear you say the words.’
She moved away from him and crossed her arms. ‘I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want you to move in now. You’d make my life intolerable.’
He waved the remote control under her nose. ‘No Lund until you’ve said the words.’
With a swiftness that caught him off guard, she snatched the remote control from him and held it out of his reach. ‘Hah! Not so clever now, are you?’
With equal swiftness, he leant forward and pinned her down on the sofa. ‘Say you love being with me! Say you want things to be more permanent between us!’
‘No!’ she squealed. ‘Never!’
He began to tickle her, making her laugh and squeal all the more. As she wriggled beneath him, begging him to stop, he suddenly raised himself from her and looked down into her eyes, and in a split second the moment changed. ‘Eliza,’ he said, ‘you know I love you, so why would you think I wouldn’t want to live with you 24/7?’
She swallowed. ‘You might think it would spoil things.’
‘What will spoil things is if you keep doubting my feelings for you. You have to believe I would never hurt you like Greg did. I’d never do anything to hurt you.’
‘Deep down I know that, but—’
‘But what? Either you believe and trust me or you don’t.’
‘It’s not that, genuinely it isn’t.’ She sat up and straightened her clothes. ‘I’m just scared of you seeing the real me and not liking what you find.’
‘That’s what makes you drive yourself so hard, isn’t it? You always feel you have to present a certain image of yourself to everyone, the super-efficient, ultra-professional Eliza Channing.’
When she remained silent, he said, ‘That is who you are, Eliza, but you’re also totally gorgeous and sexy as hell into the bargain.’
‘I’m not gorgeous. I’m at least a stone overweight and as for being sexy—’
He put a finger against her lips. ‘Repeat after me, “I, Eliza Channing, am gorgeous and am as sexy as hell.”’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ she mumbled against his finger, suppressing a giggle.
He lifted it away from her mouth. ‘Say the words.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t.’
‘Oh, Eliza, you’re hopeless. Your perception of yourself is seriously skewed. I wish you could see yourself as I see you.’
She considered his words and thought that she wasn’t the only one who needed to modify their thinking. ‘I’ll say the words if you say something in return for me,’ she said.
‘Go on?’
‘You must stop feeling you did anything wrong the night my sister died. Taking my mobile away from me had no direct effect on what happened. None at all.’
His expression altered and she knew that her suspicions were right, that he did still feel guilty. ‘But it did have an effect,’ he said with a frown. ‘It meant your mother couldn’t get hold of you when she needed you most. I know how frantic my own mother would be if she couldn’t get hold of me in a similar situation.’
‘But there could be any number of reasons why a person can’t be reached in an emergency. And how about back in the day when mobiles weren’t around?’
His frowned deepened.
‘You did nothing wrong,’ she said. ‘Your heart was entirely in the right place when you took me to Suffolk. It was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.’
Later, when they were in bed, Eliza listened to the comforting rise and fall of Simon’s breathing. He slept so easily and so soundly.
Lying there in the darkness, listening to the distant rumble of traffic, she thought how glad she was that he had found the courage to make clear his feelings for her. It must have been awful for him to listen to her going on about Greg all that time.
Life, she thought, was full of random moments of chance. Had she not seen Greg at the airport, she almost certainly wouldn’t be here now with Simon; she would probably still be being strung along by Greg and deluding herself that he loved her.
And how different things would be if Daisy hadn’t gone to collect Jensen from the station that night. Poor Daisy. Her happiness had been so fleeting.
Whenever Eliza thought of the accident and how miraculously Jensen had survived, an icy chill ran through her. She couldn’t imagine losing her brother as well as Daisy. She recalled Jensen’s email that morning and his words –
I miss you
– and decided that since she couldn’t sleep, she might just as well do something useful.
She reached for her iPad that was on the floor by the side of the bed, but no sooner had she switched it on than Simon stirred. He lifted his head from the pillow and blinking in the glare of the screen, he peered at her through a scrunched-up eye. ‘Channing, what the hell are you doing?’
‘I’m emailing Jensen. Go back to sleep.’
He groaned and closed his eyes. ‘So long as you’re not working. Because if I thought you were, I’d have to take steps.’
She smiled and bent to kiss him. ‘Beauty sleep, Simon. Get to it.’
‘Say hi to your brother from me,’ he mumbled sleepily.
Seconds later the steady rise and fall of his breathing had resumed. It would be good when he moved in permanently, she thought. A sudden image of Daisy nodding her approval flashed into her head.
At last you’re getting some proper fun into your life
, she imagined her sister saying.
‘I am, Daisy,’ she murmured. ‘I am.’
After days of wind and rain, the sun was shining from a tranquil sky of translucent blue in which small clouds hung like balls of puffy white cotton wool.
Inside the barn all was not so serene. The cause of the hubbub was Georgina’s two boys, Edmund and Luke. They were here with Georgina and Muriel to try on their talent show costumes, which Mia had made for them. Although making them was a stretch, all she’d really done was come up with a very simple idea.
‘I know I’m in danger of repeating myself, Mia, but this really was a genius idea of yours,’ Georgina said as she readjusted the wig on Luke’s head.
Muriel was trying to do the same to Edmund’s wig. ‘Keep still, you wretched little monkey,’ she said as he bounced beneath her hands as if on springs.
Luke then got in on the act and he too started bouncing on the balls of his feet. Slipping out of his mother’s grasp, he bounced over to his brother. ‘Boing! Boing! Boing!’ he chanted to the inevitable delight of Edmund, who joined in.
Muriel threw her hands in the air in despair. ‘That’s it, no treats for you two rascals! I shall eat them all myself.’