by Lucy Coleman
‘While I’m being totally honest with you, can I ask why Carrie’s questioning made you feel guilty?’ I don’t believe this is just about sharing his problems, this is about the fact that we’re sleeping together.
‘Look, I didn’t know you were fragile and let’s face it, I’m a walking disaster right now. Maybe I always have been when it comes to women. My focus has always been my work and in hindsight I allowed Harriet to manipulate me. But it’s easy to see that now, after the fact. She sort of inserted herself into my life and made me believe I couldn’t live without her. Harriet can be very charismatic when she wants something and I see that now. I was a sucker; she pandered to my ego and I was dazzled by her. I think the only people I’ve ever truly loved are my grandparents and Nanny Hope. It’s only since I met you that I’ve actually realised that.’
Now it’s my turn to be shocked.
‘Why?’
‘Oh, because you put your own problems to one side and took time out to listen to me going on and on. I care about losing the villa because it’s the last tie I have to my grandparents and the memories we made here. And when I knew that Carrie was worried about you, I started to worry too. Now, caring might not be love. I don’t know. But I care. I don’t want you thinking I’m using you to bolster my flagging ego, or to vent sexual frustration. Or just because you happen to be here. This thing we have going on means something to me but that’s all I know. You deserve more; someone who can give you everything you dream about because they are connected to their emotions. I’m a reject in that department, I’m afraid. I simply don’t want to disappoint you.’
Flowers are boring and predictable; hearing a speech like that, spoken from the heart with sincerity, is without doubt the most romantic moment of my entire life.
Seconds later we’re in each other’s arms and rolling around on the two inch thick fur rug. I’m sure the contents of the Jane Austen shelf above us will be swooning, while the tomes of the Cambridge Union debating society will be prostrate with shock.
Me? I’ve never been happier. And Arran? Well, he’s lying next to me now with a big enough smile on his face to convince me we’re doing something right.
23
A Glimmer of Hope
Last night we headed back to my room again and Arran crept out early this morning, shooting me a huge grin as he quietly closed the door behind him. We need each other, and it feels right, for now at least. Will I be able to walk away from him in three weeks time, just like that? I don’t know. But then he doesn’t know either.
All I do know is that the moment he closed that door behind him the room felt empty and my heart felt heavy. Then a flashback of waking up in the early hours of the morning to find Arran propped up on one elbow, watching me sleeping, pops into my head. It makes me smile and the look in his eyes filled me with joy.
‘Let’s always be honest with each other, Brie. I won’t keep any secrets from you, I promise. I’m not a complicated guy and I don’t do lying or cheating. I know that’s not a lot to offer, but I hope it’s a start.’
Once he’d said his piece he lay back down and immediately closed his eyes. It wasn’t long before he was softly snoring, and I fell back into a deep and dreamless sleep, feeling content. Now, as I swing my legs over the side of the bed, I know I can’t ask for more than that.
As I’m getting ready I find myself humming the chorus from Nick Jonas’ ‘Find You’ and I feel… happy. I stare at myself in the mirror in surprise, then give my hair one last sweep with the brush. It’s another sunny day and the group’s last one at the villa. Tomorrow morning, they all fly back home and by late afternoon a new group will be settling in. Before Arran left, he asked if I’d join him for this morning’s session covering social media and advertising. I know that this afternoon he’s running a special workshop focusing on setting up a website and I think at least four of the group are involved. Unfortunately, I have my interview with Jordan at three o’clock, but it should only take an hour and I can make myself available for the remainder of the group afterwards.
Checking the time, I decide it’s probably best to skip breakfast as I have a couple of phone calls to make. The first one is to Carrie and I’m not at all surprised when she answers on the third ring.
‘Well, what do you think?’ I jump straight in.
‘How did you know I’ve been up all night reading Arran’s manuscript?’
‘You’re predictable. You like helping people and your bark is always worse than your bite. I gather he accepted most of the suggestions I made but did I go too far?’
‘Nope. Pretty much nailed it, I think. I made a couple of minor amendments to one scene as there was a little repetition, but I think I’m ready to draft the email now and send it off to the publishers without further delay.’
I offer up a silent whoop.
‘Let’s hope you get a quick response because the situation is growing even more urgent by the day. There’s a real chance he could lose the villa. And that reminds me, you worried Arran by checking up on me. What was that all about? We’ve had enough contact for you to know my little episode is well and truly over. You have some explaining to do because it made things awkward at this end.’
‘Ah.’ Pregnant pause. ‘Well.’ Another pause.
‘I’m waiting.’ And I deserve an explanation.
‘Mel rang me and asked if I knew you were sleeping with Arran.’
‘I don’t believe it! You both need to relax a little. I know what I’m doing, and Arran is no bad guy, believe me.’
‘Okay. Sorry. I was just… making sure everything was good. After all, I sort of talked you into this in the first place. I didn’t mean to interfere, but Mel sounded concerned.’ She does at least sound apologetic.
‘Well, I’ll forgive you just this once. But from here on in you ask me first if you want an update. I’m off to ring Mum and I can only hope Mel hasn’t spoken to her, too.’
In fact, Mel hasn’t phoned Mum and it’s an easy conversation. I explain that I couldn’t call yesterday because I ended up taking Arran’s session and that seemed to please her. I guess I’m lucky to have so many people worrying about how I’m doing and wanting me to get back into my stride. What I’m beginning to realise is that I’m going through a time of personal growth, changing in ways I never thought I would. Perhaps it wasn’t so much about going through a seven year itch, as it was simply a need to stand back and review my life. Coming to Italy has made me do just that and suddenly I’m seeing a lot of things in a very different light.
*
Tonight, everyone is in high spirits and Arran is the most relaxed I’ve seen him all week. There’s a lot of banter around the table and each member of the group has expressed their thanks for what they all agree has been a very informative week. I can almost see the relief etched on Arran’s face but tomorrow he has the pressure of having to do this all over again.
As we stroll back to the villa I end up walking with Yvonne and she raises the topic of how isolated she sometimes feels.
‘Living in a village and not really knowing any other writers, there isn’t anyone who understands how darn right frustrating it can be at times. I mean, we all go through the same processes and anxieties, I suppose. This week has made me realise how motivating it is to just have those conversations with people who really understand. I’m going to miss that.’
‘You’re right, Yvonne, and it’s understandable to feel that way. It’s a labour of love filled with a lot of daunting lows before you get to experience any high points. Have you thought about joining the Romantic Novelists’ Association? I’ll send you the link.’ I explain that they hold local chapter meetings, as well as meet ups in London several times a year. She hurries off to catch up with Kris and Silvia, no doubt to see if they are members. I’m really glad we talked, because it will open up a network of like minded friends and professionals for her.
Looking around I see that Arran is bringing up the rear and he appears to be deep in thought
, so I slow my pace a little.
‘It was a great last supper, wasn’t it?’ My attempt at a little humour doesn’t register and it’s easy to see that his mind is elsewhere.
‘Yes. Everyone seems to have enjoyed their stay. It will be interesting to see what the feedback forms say, though. I do ask people to be honest as that’s the only way I can ensure I’m meeting expectations.’ He looks tired and that’s understandable. ‘How did the interview go?’
‘Good. Jordan Lewis is an interesting man. I assumed, like any athlete, he had to be highly disciplined to achieve the optimum level of fitness and stamina. But I don’t think I fully realised how it dominates every aspect of his life. He monitors everything he eats and often takes his meals separately from his family as they rarely eat at the same time, or the same food.
‘When he was talking about his daily nutrition, he could have been a trained dietician; food didn’t excite him at all, it was simply a means to an end. Lots of protein shakes and supplements; choosing foods for their nutritional content and not for their taste or as an indulgence. Then there is his daily workout programme which changes constantly and his general cardiovascular work. Cage fighting is a brutal sport and when Jordan fights, he’s like a machine. Relentless. His manager was there, and he played a YouTube video of one of Jordan’s shortest fights, so that he could talk me through it. It was hard to watch, if I’m honest. One man beating another one until the referee stopped the fight.
‘But when I asked Jordan about his wife and family, this man turned into a gentle giant in front of my eyes. He pulled out his phone to show me some photos and suddenly he wasn’t that professional fighting machine but a family man, like any other. He does what he has to do to provide for them and set things up for the future.’
I look across at Arran and he’s shaking his head. ‘It’s not an easy way to earn a living, that’s for sure. It must be hard on his wife and kids.’
‘Jordan told me his wife has never watched him fight but she has watched him train. He said he’s been lucky and listed his injuries, saying they were all minor, but it didn’t sound that way to me. I think what he meant was that it was rare for him to have to delay a fight because of injury time. Jordan said that pain was managed first in here,’ I tap my head with my finger, repeating his own action earlier on, ‘and that’s the key to being a winner.’
‘It sounds like an extremely interesting insight into his life. Did you get all the information you needed?’
‘I did. The guy has a sharp brain and when it comes to retiring, he has already lined up a number of options. But he isn’t ready just yet and he intends to go out on top. I could feel the real issues though; he skirted around his wife’s concerns about the toll it takes on him and how long he can sustain that. In the story, Jed Jackman must decide between the fight of his life and his love for Bella. He can’t have both. I can appreciate the enormity of having to make that choice, now I fully understand the life of a cage fighter. It was probably one of the most emotive interviews I’ve ever conducted.’
We filter into single file as we take the path down towards the back of the villa. Once inside everyone congregates in the kitchen, grabbing glasses and an array of drinks to take out onto the terrace.
Arran disappears to turn on the garden lighting and set up some music. There’s a buzz going on tonight and a part of that is because everyone has had a good time, but home and loved ones beckon tomorrow. As with any holiday, it’s an enjoyable experience but there comes a point when you long for the familiar.
Sitting and chatting aimlessly about a vast range of topics, we while away the rest of the evening until eventually it’s just Arran and me sitting alongside the pool.
‘Wild thought. How about we take a dip? Everyone’s in bed so we won’t be interrupted,’ Arran flashes me a cheeky smile. He’s expecting me to say no.
‘Last one in is a chicken,’ I say as I strip down to my underwear. Heck, it will look like I’m wearing a bikini, anyway. Arran is still struggling to get his trousers off, hopping on one leg as I slip into the deliciously cool water. I feel goosebumps run up and down my arms as my skin adjusts to the temperature but it’s bliss.
Arran slips in next to me, looking very attractive in his navy boxers.
‘Jordan impressed you then?’
Arran’s comment takes me by surprise. I wonder what made him think of it now.
‘It was only research, I wasn’t evaluating him in any way; only trying to understand his line of work. He was very genuine and open. But, yes, I suppose I was somewhat impressed. I’m not just talking about all that solid muscle.’ I steal a look at Arran, a meaningful grin on my face. ‘The arrangement made between my publishers and his manager is that Jordan will get a mention when Heidi officially leaks the teasers about the new book. It’s just a publicity angle to grab people’s attention in the run up to publication. Readers love all the detail behind how an author gleans information to flesh out their characters. And, of course, Jordan has a very loyal fan base, many of whom are women who buy romance novels. It’s quid pro quo.’
‘It never occurred to me that romance novels required such a detailed level of research. I simply assumed it was all about relationships. Guy meets girl and falls in love, isn’t that the common preconception?’
I peer at Arran, rather disappointedly.
‘That’s where making assumptions can get you into a lot of trouble. Of course, real life issues come into every story I write. I’ve tackled death, divorce, cancer, redundancy, addiction – you name it. Just because it’s a romance doesn’t mean the author doesn’t have to get their facts right, or that it’s all pure fluff. In the same way that your new manuscript is factually correct but at the heart of it, it’s a love story, too. You had to do justice to both halves to make it work.’
‘Touché and well put. I’m totally ignorant here, but do many men read romance novels?’
I burst out laughing. ‘Clearly a lot more than you think, by the sound of it. Everything from historical to chick lit and all of the categories in between.’
‘I’m not a good example of a modern guy, am I? Guess I spent too much time studying and not enough living in the moment.’ Judging by the expression on his face, he is taking this seriously. I don’t think he’s ever really given it any thought; why would he?
‘The hole you are digging yourself into is getting bigger by the moment. No offence taken but your education is sadly lacking in that respect. If you read one of my novels I guarantee it will bring you up to speed.’
He starts laughing and, in fairness, I’ve witnessed how he’s tried his best to be light hearted tonight and not to dwell on his own problems. I only wish his questioning wasn’t quite so annoying at times. It is good to hear this laughter, though, as it’s real and now I can see he’s just the teensiest bit embarrassed.
We lapse into silence and it’s pleasant to float around and enjoy the balmy evening. The sounds and the smells carried on the night air wrap themselves around us and the gentle lapping of the water is comforting. Already the house is in darkness and now only the lights on the terrace emit a soft glow. I can see something is troubling him and he turns his head unexpectedly, catching me staring at his profile.
‘I wish you’d share it with me,’ I mutter softly, as our eyes connect.
He sighs, rubbing his index fingers in circles around the sides of his temple as if to alleviate pain.
‘This villa is what keeps me grounded, like the roots of a tree. This is the only place I ever experienced emotion, as a child. When I was here I could admit I was afraid, or that some things didn’t come naturally to me. I could be that boy growing into manhood and struggling to discover who I was, acknowledging my strengths and my weaknesses, without apology, or shame. I know it’s fairly common, but for a while I was convinced I’d been adopted. I was nothing at all like my sister, my mother, or my father. My grandfather said I reminded him of his own mother. When I asked him why, he said she didn’t always tak
e the easiest route. It’s only now that I think I understand what he meant. But if I lose the villa, I lose the only memories that mean anything to me.’
I reach out, placing my hand on his arm and giving it a gentle rub. Arran drifts closer.
‘If you can just make the next payment then I’m sure that advance will help with the one after that. Carrie has already submitted the manuscript. Let me lend you the money. It’s earning hardly anything at all sitting in the bank. It would give me a good feeling to think of it at least doing some good. You could repay it at your leisure, really.’
His head is slumped down now, his chin almost touching his chest as it dips just below the water line. He replies without altering his gaze.
‘I can’t, Brie. That’s not the sort of man I am. But it is very generous of you; too generous, in fact. I know that temporary solutions are just storing up problems for the future and I can’t risk not being able to repay my debts. What I need to do now is get a grip on my financial affairs and only an accountant can help on that front. Actually, there is a favour you can do me that would take one worry away.’
I search his eyes and my heart misses a beat. This man hasn’t even begun to tap into the emotions he’s holding back. Being brought up in an environment where achievement was everything, he wavers every time his emotions get in the way. Like refusing to let his mother help him; he looks at the situation with his head and not his heart. But the emotion is there, I’m sure of it, and I want to be the one to coax him into recognising that fact. It’s just going to be a slow process.
‘Ask away.’
‘I’ve managed to line up several projects for my next trip back to the UK in mid August. One of them is doing the voiceover for a series of tutorials on Ancient Greek civilisation. It’s for a small production company and their offices are in Wales, about half an hour from Cardiff. Apparently, the CEO has a purpose built recording studio in the grounds of his obscenely large country house. That’s reasonably close to the Forest of Dean, isn’t it?’