by Caragh Bell
She ran her arms over his muscular back. ‘I’d never be afraid with you,’ she said. ‘Ever.’
Later they lay entwined on the bed, her head resting on his bare chest. She traced her finger up and down his arm and sighed in contentment.
‘How do you feel?’ he asked, kissing her forehead.
‘So good,’ she said, stretching languidly. ‘I can’t believe that I waited this long to feel like this.’
He laughed. ‘Well, I’ve got to say that I’m glad that you did.’ He flipped her over and lay on top of her, his face inches from hers. Holding her wrists above her head, he kissed her neck and her shoulder, before moving down to the underside of her breast. She squirmed in delight, pushing her body upwards.
‘It’s crazy,’ he said, releasing her. ‘I feel like I’ve discovered America or something.’
‘A pioneer,’ she said, smiling.
He caressed the curve of her waist. ‘It’s pretty mind-blowing. You’re a goddess, Aurora Sinclair.’
She turned her face away. ‘Don’t call me that.’
‘What?’
‘Sinclair. That’s not my name.’
‘Of course it is. Don’t be silly.’ He pulled her upright. ‘I know you may not be Henry’s biological daughter, but you’re never going to be anything but a Sinclair.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ he said firmly.
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her thoroughly. ‘I love you,’ he said quietly. ‘I know you better than anyone. I can’t imagine being without you.’
Her mind filled with images of her future: a life where James was around all the time. She envisaged herself baking a cherry pie with her hands caked in flour. He appeared, kissing her neck and helping her to roll out the pastry. They were laughing in this vision and happiness flooded her every cell.
Aurora called to Silas’s cottage the next morning. He was drinking coffee on the stone wall outside, his tall frame hunched over from the biting wind. She tapped his shoulder.
‘Silas?’ she said softly.
‘Are you leaving?’ he asked, warming his hands on the china cup. He didn’t turn around.
‘I have to,’ she explained. ‘I’m needed back in America. I just got a big part in a film and I need to rehearse.’
‘Will you come back?’ He kept his back to her.
‘You know I will.’ She pulled at his arm. ‘I want to know you – I want us to be close. You’ve all I’ve got left.’
‘I think you have a back-up over there,’ he said, gesturing to James by the gable wall.
‘You know what I mean.’ She forced him to look at her. ‘Thank you for making us feel so welcome. It can’t have been easy.’
He shrugged. ‘It just feels cruel that we have found each other and now you have to leave.’
Her brown eyes were compassionate. ‘The world is a small place now. We can keep in touch quite easily. You could always come to New York.’
‘I don’t like cities.’
‘Or I can come here.’ She smiled. ‘We can make it work. We just have to try.’
He placed his cup on the wall and pulled her into his arms. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled into her hair. ‘I’m sorry for all that I did.’
‘Don’t,’ she said tremulously. ‘Don’t say sorry. Let’s just start again.’
‘Don’t stay away too long, Aurora.’ He handed her a fuchsia that he had plucked from the bush nearby. ‘Come back.’
‘I will. I swear that I will.’ She broke free and rubbed the tears from her eyes. ‘Write me a new poem,’ she said meaningfully, backing away.
Silas nodded. ‘A happy one this time, one that looks to the future.’
The man with the peaked cap threw the rope on the pier and helped Aurora onto the ferry. James stashed their bags in the crew cabin and joined her at the stern of the boat. She bent over the edge to see the swirling backwash of water as the engine roared to life. The big boat turned three hundred and sixty degrees and headed out of the harbour. She pulled her coat tightly around her as the wind whipped past.
‘What are your plans when we get back to London?’ she asked casually, not daring to presume anything.
James wiped some spray from his face. ‘Oh, I can think of a few things I want to do.’ He grinned. ‘Namely take you to bed for as long as possible.’
‘What will Gloria say?’ Aurora blushed. ‘She’ll die of shock.’
‘She’ll get over it,’ he said sensibly. ‘Laura’s sugar daddy surprise was far worse.’ He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. ‘Don’t give anyone else a second thought. All that matters is that we’re together.’
‘You know I have to go back to New York,’ she said quietly, not daring to meet his eyes. ‘I have to finish that run of La Morte before flying to L.A. to meet Carey.’
‘Well, someone once told me that she imagined me in a studio apartment in New York,’ he said. ‘It’s not a bad idea, all things considered.’
‘You’d move to America?’ she gasped. ‘For me?’
‘Mainly for you, but also to feed my artistic spirit. I need to start exhibiting again – I need to feel part of the world. The last few months have been mundane and stifling.’
‘I rent a small place near Greenwich.’
‘Ideal.’
She kissed him hard on the lips. His stubble grazed her cheek and she felt herself melt inside. It was crazy how she wanted him again – it was as though a dam had burst. All the feelings and desire she had felt for so long finally had an outlet. She kissed him furiously, channelling all her emotions, then snuggled in close.
‘You were always my Prince in the Barbie Ferrari. You rescued me, James. I’m yours forever.’
The boat moved up and down on the waves, sending the occasional spray of seawater over its occupants. James kept his arms around Aurora to protect her from falling, whispering in her ear and making her laugh.
A woman in white watched them from the clifftop as the boat passed by. Her long hair blew in the breeze and her beautiful face was smiling. Turning around, she walked away and disappeared into the morning mist.
THE END
Now that you’re hooked why not try
Indecision
also published by Poolbeg
Here’s a sneak preview of chapter one.
Chapter 1
‘How does five hundred a month sound to you, ladies?’
Lydia bit her lip. This was the flat! She just knew it. Sure, it was in bad condition, but the location was fantastic. Five minutes from campus – only ten minutes from the city centre.
‘What do you think, Sam?’ Lydia turned to her best friend.
‘I don’t know,’ said Samantha, screwing up her nose distastefully at the peeling walls and threadbare carpet. ‘It’s so dreary! Look at those grey walls.’
Lydia laughed. ‘We are on a budget, you know. Come on, it’s so central. You could walk to work from here.’
Samantha looked doubtful. ‘I suppose.’
Michael McCarthy cleared his throat. He owned five apartments just like this around the city. These girls should realise that their answer really didn’t matter. He could fill this flat twice over if he wanted to.
‘Look, ladies, I’m a busy man – are you going to rent it or not?’ He tapped his foot impatiently and glanced at his watch.
Lydia crossed her fingers. Please say yes, please say yes, she pleaded silently.
Samantha threw up her arms in defeat. ‘Count me in, I suppose.’
Lydia clapped her hands in delight. ‘I’ve a good feeling about this, Sam. A few books on the shelves and some pictures on the wall will make a big difference.’
She turned to the landlord and smiled.
‘We’ll take it,’ she said.
He shook their hands. ‘Good choice, girls. Trust me. This one has a nice view of the college.’
Lydia took some cash out of her bag. ‘Will a month in advance be enough?’
Michael pulled out a
receipt book. ‘Yes, that’ll be fine. I’ll need a deposit of a month’s rent as well. Then I’ll collect rent on the first Friday of every month.’
Samantha counted out a wad of notes. ‘Any hope of a paint job? I really hate the colour of the sitting-room area.’
‘If you want to paint it yourself, go ahead. Any decoration that doesn’t cost me anything is welcome.’ He handed them a receipt and a bunch of keys. ‘My wife will email you the contract later today. Once that’s signed, it’s all official. Now, I’ll leave you to it. Good luck!’
He turned on his heel and exited the room, banging the door loudly. Seconds later they heard the roar of an engine.
‘And he’s gone!’ Lydia laughed.
‘Still, it seems like we can do what we like to the place and he won’t care.’ Samantha smiled. ‘I bags the room on the left.’
Lydia shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter to me.’
She walked into her new bedroom. It was quite small with a window looking out on the busy street. The violet walls gave it a feminine feel; it was lucky that purple was her favourite colour. A dusty mahogany wardrobe stood in the corner, next to a matching dressing table. A lamp with a lopsided shade stood precariously on the edge of the bedside locker.
Samantha popped her head in the door and made a face. ‘Is that dry rot by the window?’ she asked, pointing to the windowsill.
Lydia shrugged. ‘Maybe. Give me a chance – I’ll spruce this place up in no time. Now, enough of the negativity.’
‘Okay, okay, calm down. I’m going to head to the shop for some basics. Do you need anything?’
‘No, I’m all right. See you in a while.’
The door slammed shut.
Lydia hugged herself.
After graduating with a French and English degree, she had enrolled to do a post-graduate diploma in education with Samantha. But after an intense year of teaching teenagers, she was positive that she never wanted to be a teacher. So she decided to do a Master’s in English and pursue her dream of becoming a writer. Her parents had agreed to bankroll her for another year, but after that she was on her own. They couldn’t understand why she didn’t go into teaching like Samantha. ‘It’s a fine dependable job,’ her father had said a million times. ‘Aren’t you trained now and all?’
Lydia screwed up her nose. No way, she thought. Life has other plans for me.
She unzipped her bag and started to pull out some clothes. Opening the wardrobe, she coughed as a cloud of dust blew everywhere.
This place needs a good clean, she thought, grimacing. Not her favourite job in the world, it had to be said. Dominic always teased her about how messy she was. He couldn’t believe that she didn’t know how to use a washing machine.
Dominic. Her expression softened.
It’s going to be so weird without him, she thought sadly, looking at the enormous bed she would have to fill alone.
Dominic and Lydia had met when she’d fallen off a gate while protesting against the possible introduction of college fees. He had helped her up and offered to buy her coffee. It was then, while he gently massaged the inside of her sprained wrist, that Lydia had a coup de foudre moment.
They had been inseparable for the past three years. An unlikely match to say the least, she an Arts student and he a newly graduated doctor, yet somehow it had worked. Then Dominic finished his internship with a burning ambition to be a surgeon. This dream had led him to Dublin, over two hundred and fifty kilometres away.
The prospect of Dominic not being around was unthinkable, but Lydia knew it was the best thing to further his career. She loved him too much to create a fuss.
Anyway, she thought, he will be down most weekends. And absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder.
‘Lyd? Are you ready?’ Samantha called. ‘Want to get some pizza before we head home?’
‘I’d love to, coming now.’
Lydia grabbed her bag and closed the door of her new room.
Samantha’s battered Golf pulled up outside Lydia’s family home, an old stone house partially covered in green ivy. Both girls had grown up here in Baltimore in West Cork – a small seaside village on the south coast and over an hour’s drive from the city.
‘Thanks for the lift, Sam.’ Lydia hugged her friend. ‘See you Sunday evening?’
‘Sure thing. Enjoy your last days of freedom.’ She smiled broadly as Lydia exited the car.
‘Oh, I will. Colin texted me earlier saying that he’s coming down for the weekend. God help me!’
Samantha laughed. ‘Give him a big kiss for me. Talk on Sunday.’
She waved and drove off down the street.
Colin McCarthy was Lydia’s first cousin. A fellow English student, he adored hanging out with Lydia’s mum, his favourite aunt. Born and raised in Dublin, he was the only son of Helen’s older and extremely successful sister, Diana. Classically good-looking, spoilt but totally adorable, he had never wanted for anything in his life. His parents had a house in Killiney the size of a small country and Colin had sucked the silver spoon dry.
‘Hey, Mum!’ called Lydia, walking into the kitchen and dumping her bag on the counter.
Helen Kelly walked into the kitchen, closely followed by Lydia’s dog Toto, a brindle Cairn Terrier who was the image of his famous namesake.
‘Hello, darling! Hungry? Dinner’s in the oven.’
Lydia melted into her familiar embrace, loving the smell of perfume mixed with Shepherd’s Pie.
‘Sam and I had pizza a little while ago, so I’ll give it a miss.’
Helen shook her head. ‘Won’t you be eating enough of that rubbish next week, young lady? I have a lovely pie made from yesterday’s leftover lamb.’
Lydia shrugged and smiled. ‘You should have texted me.’
‘All the more for me, Auntie Hel,’ came a voice from behind and Lydia jumped.
‘Colin! I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow?’
‘No, sugarplum. I decided to jump in my car and avail of some home cooking and America’s Next Top Model with Molly.’ He kissed her lightly on the cheek. Kitted out in black Armani chinos, coupled with a purple Dolce and Gabbana shirt, he looked his usual immaculate self. His brown curls had unfamiliar streaks of blond which danced in the bright light of the kitchen.
‘New hairdo?’ enquired Lydia, amused.
Colin beamed. ‘Felix was doing the usual trim and suddenly he screamed and told me that I just had to get these highlights.’ He paused in front of the microwave and peered at his reflection. ‘Are you impressed?’
‘You look gorgeous, Col.’ Lydia giggled. ‘Beautiful.’
Colin gave her an arch look. ‘How genuine of you! I really feel it. Molly loves it, anyway. She has taste.’
Lydia’s younger sister Molly walked into the kitchen at that moment, her hair wet from the shower. A seventeen-year-old version of Helen Kelly, she had a shock of blonde hair and twinkling blue eyes.
‘Did I hear my name?’ she asked, towelling her hair. ‘Who was talking about me?’
Moi,’ said Colin, pouring himself a glass of wine from the fridge. ‘We have a date to watch TV later, right?’
‘I’ll be there,’ said Molly. ‘Hey, Lyd, did you find a flat?’
Lydia nodded. ‘It’s not exactly beautiful or anything but it is right next door to college. The pros and cons sort of balance each other out.’
‘How much?’ asked Helen, her half-moon spectacles perched on her nose as she read a recipe for pavlova.
‘Five hundred a month.’
‘God, I wonder what it’s like to pay rent,’ said Colin, wide-eyed.
Lydia punched him playfully in the arm. ‘Watch it, rich boy.’
When Colin had decided to study in Cork four years before, his father had purchased an apartment for him. It was situated by the college, looking out on the river. Lydia privately thought that his flat was more akin to a show house. Spotlessly clean, it looked like something from a magazine. Colin was incredibly house-pro
ud and prided himself on his pristine white couch and gleaming marble floor. Lydia had once put a glass of wine down on his coffee table without using a coaster and there had been a meltdown.
‘Did Dom ring?’ she asked her mother as she poured herself a glass of juice.
‘No, honey, not yet. Go into the sitting room now and take Colin with you. I have to bake and his constant chatter will drive me mad.’
‘Gee, thanks,’ said Colin, following Lydia out of the kitchen. ‘So, cuz, how’s Dom doing in the big smoke?’
‘Okay, I think. He’s always so tired when he rings. I really miss him, Col. I mean we lived in each other’s pockets for three years and now I’m back to an electric blanket and girls’ nights out.’
‘Boo hoo! At least you’re not me! Do you know how hard it is to find a monogamous gay guy in Cork? In Ireland for that matter? My youth is passing me by, Lyd.’ He rolled his eyes dramatically.
‘Oh, you’re ancient all right, Col. Really past it.’ Lydia laughed. He always cheered her up. ‘Come on, EastEnders is on soon. Let’s get the couch before Molly.’
Dominic rang just as Lydia was snuggling down under her duvet. His familiar ringtone pulsated through the room.
‘Dom,’ she murmured, settling into the pillow. ‘How are you doing, baby?’
‘Exhausted. I love every second of it, but it’s hard work. I assisted in a gall-bladder removal today.’
‘Yuk, how was it? I would pass out if I saw that much blood.’
‘It was amazing, Lydia, totally incredible. I got great feedback from O’Leary – remember I told you about him? The head guy?’
‘Oh yeah.’ Lydia’s tone was flat, but Dominic didn’t notice.
‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘he said that I can observe a triple bypass next Wednesday, but only from behind glass.’
Lydia didn’t know why, but she felt her skin grow cold. Of course she was happy for Dominic – he was living the dream, fulfilling his ambition. It just felt like he was telling her about a world far beyond her imagination. He would be playing golf with O’Leary in the K Club while she’d be drinking a skinny latte in the student centre with Colin. He would be experiencing life-changing operations while she’d be getting to grips with the Norton Anthology of Poetry.