Keeping Juliette Company

by Sarah Picson

  Ellie sprang to her feet and grabbed a tub of ointment lying on its side under the coffee table. She unscrewed the lid and motioned for Robert to lie down. His fingers stumbled over the buttons of his blue polo shirt, but eventually he undid them and pulled it off, stretching out across the length of the sofa on his stomach, his long legs dangling off the end.

  Robert turned his head away, his shoulders hunching up around his neck as he saw himself through Ellie’s eyes: misshapen and beastly, a pale, charred wasteland of scars across his back. But his shoulders surrendered under the light pressure of her soft fingers, working the ointment into his skin.

  At first, as his skin had begun the healing process, the itching had almost driven him mad, but over time it had eased and Ellie’s trusty tub of ointment was required much less often now.

  ‘How’s that?’ she asked.

  ‘Better,’ he whispered, his muscles and sinews melting beneath her touch.

  He’d suffered deep second-degree burns from where he had curled himself around Ellie on the night of the explosion. When he’d arrived at the hospital, his back had been covered in red, oozing blisters, resembling something from the fires of hell; his left leg was swollen, mangled and broken in two places from where falling bricks had landed on it.

  There had been a dark point where he hadn’t been sure he’d ever leave the hospital in those early days; the look of stress and worry imprinted across Ellie’s face had said it all. She had sat for hour after hour at his bedside while he was hooked up to machines and high on painkillers, reading to him, feeding him, singing to him, even though he had spent most of the time sleeping.

  Ellie had always been there when Robert woke up, her hand squeezing his when he was wheeled through to receive skin graft surgery on the worst affected areas of his back and yet again, when he had to have realignment surgery on his leg.

  It had been a triumphant day when he’d been discharged from the hospital and he’d decided, much to Ellie’s disbelief, to stop taking his painkillers almost immediately. By silently enduring the lingering pain, Robert derived a strange comfort from his damaged body: they were the scars he finally deserved and, in the process, he’d saved Ellie, something he hadn’t been able to do for Jane.

  ‘All done,’ Ellie announced. ‘Do you need anything else before we go?’

  ‘Only you,’ he replied, flashing her a wolfish grin as he slid his shirt back on.

  Her face lit up with that smile again.

  ‘I’ll just get my bag.’

  Robert pushed his shoulders back and reached for his cane, which was leaning against the fireplace. He hated using it, but it gave him much-needed independence, because what he hated even more than using his cane, was being a burden on Ellie and Abi. Although, he hadn’t had much say in the matter; since he’d left the hospital three months ago and settled into the living room of Ellie’s cottage, he’d been humbled by the love and care they’d shown him during his recovery.

  It had been disconcerting at first, being in the home that Dominic had once shared with Ellie; Robert had felt like an intruder. They never spoke of Dominic, but Robert knew Ellie had attended his funeral and despite Dominic’s fate, Robert still nursed a simmering pool of fury in his gut at the destruction he had caused to his house and the reckless abandon with which he’d played with their lives that night.

  But lying on Ellie’s sofa as the days rolled by, listening to Abi’s complaints that he was the grumpiest patient ever, he found a peace within himself at how things had turned out. It was in this cottage, with Ellie and Abi’s unwavering support, as they dressed his wounds, cooked his meals and accompanied him to his hospital appointments, that his strength had returned with each passing day. It was more than Robert could ever have asked for, and after all that they had endured, he knew he was a lucky man.

  He struck the cane against the floor a few times, placed it back against the fireplace and walked into the hallway with only the slightest of limps.

  Emerging from the kitchen, Ellie came to an abrupt halt.

  ‘You’re not taking your —’

  ‘No!’ called Robert, without breaking his stride.

  He eased himself into the car and Ellie slid into the driving seat beside him. Her little red car had finally packed up and she’d been getting used to driving his car while his leg healed.

  ‘Can we go by the house first?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course,’ she replied, pulling the car off the driveway.

  ~

  Robert felt the familiar clench of his stomach as they turned into his road. In the midst of all the pristine houses with lush, well-maintained front gardens, the ravaged remains of his house stood out in stark contrast.

  Ellie pulled up outside and they sat together in reflective silence, staring at the space where his house had once been. The debris had long since been cleared away, but Robert could make out the bottom few layers of brick poking up from the foundations and the blackened remains of some timber in the middle of the site, but mainly he just noticed the absence of any kind of discernible home.

  It was hard not to think about all the things that had been lost in the explosion. The photographs of Jane had been particularly hard to bear and at first his house had represented a devastating loss, but as he got better, it began to represent a fresh start, a chance to build something new.

  Robert had received the good news yesterday that the insurers had finally agreed to pay out for the house to be rebuilt and he had a team of builders ready to start. As his eyes widened at the enormity of what lay ahead, he felt Ellie’s hand on his.

  ‘I know it’s not ideal, the three of us cramped together in my small cottage. Let’s hope the builders finish quickly,’ she said.

  He shook his head.

  ‘It doesn’t matter how long they take.’

  ‘But it’s your home, Robert. You deserve to have your home back again.’

  ‘Ellie,’ he said, turning to face her. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s just bricks and mortar. My home is wherever you and Abi are.’

  ‘Oh, Robert,’ she said, squeezing his hand tighter. She looked as if she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he whispered. ‘I’m looking forward to our first date.’

  ~

  Robert and Ellie ambled along the uneven track at White Willow Lake. Robert pushed through the dull ache in his leg as he sidestepped a protruding tree root and tried not to think of his cane resting against the fireplace.

  ‘Good afternoon, Juliette,’ Ellie said, as they broke out into the familiar clearing.

  Ellie laid out a picnic blanket in front of the bench and set about unpacking far too much food from a wicker basket. Robert felt her eyes on him as he eased himself down next to her on the blanket, wincing ever so slightly.

  Humming to herself, Ellie arranged crusty bread, strawberries, grapes, sausage rolls, tomatoes, fancy French cheese and a dozen other things they wouldn’t manage to get through, neatly across the blanket. Next, she brought out a bottle of white wine, followed by the clink of two glasses. Robert smiled and reached for the bottle.

  ‘Oh no,’ Ellie cried, her hands diving into the bottom of the basket. ‘I’ve forgotten the bottle opener. I knew I’d forget something!’

  ‘This is meant to be our first date, isn’t it?’ Robert asked, chuckling.

  She turned to him; her cheeks flushed with irritation.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, I don’t suppose you remember what happened the very first time we met?’

  ‘Of course, I do,’ she said, his question doing nothing to alleviate the annoyance etched across her face.

  ‘Perhaps it’s best if we don’t open the wine then,’ he said, gently.

  Ellie made an indignant squeak, before collapsing into giggles.

  ‘Maybe you’re right,’ she said, breaking off a piece of bread and popping it in her mouth.

  Ellie shuffled closer and Robert let out a satisfied sigh, as her light, floral per
fume wound around him like a gossamer web. They leaned back against the wooden bench and gazed out at the view they both loved so much. As usual, nothing but the sound of birds twittering to each other in the trees above interrupted their blissful silence.

  ‘This is perfect,’ Robert murmured.

  ‘I agree.’

  Robert pulled her closer.

  ‘Ellie, I would never have got through the last few months without you. I don’t know what I’d have done if something had happened to you that night.’

  ‘Nothing happened to me, Robert, you made sure of that.’

  Robert clenched his jaw, his free hand tugging at some loose threads at the edge of the picnic blanket.

  ‘I’m going to talk to someone about getting a divorce from Jane.’

  Ellie sat up and stared hard into his eyes.

  ‘As long as you don’t do it on my account.’

  ‘Look, this isn’t a proposal,’ he said, earnestly. ‘And Jane will always be a part of my life, she’s Abi’s mother. But it’s good to think about the future, isn’t it? Our future.’

  ‘I’m not so sure.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Robert, narrowing his eyes, his heart pumping a little faster.

  ‘This is the important bit,’ Ellie replied, digging a finger into the blanket between them. ‘Being here together is important. Being happy is important: meaningless ceremonies and official pieces of paper are overrated. We’re fine just the way we are.’

  ‘Well, I agree with you there.’

  ‘Besides,’ Ellie said, her eyes flickering towards the bench. ‘Perhaps Juliette wasn’t married either. She might have lived in sin.’

  ‘Scandalous,’ Robert murmured, leaning over and nuzzling her ear lobe. ‘I like the sound of that.’

  He felt Ellie shiver with pleasure as his lips made their way behind her ear and down her neck. She grabbed his shoulders, arching her back, as his hands slid up the smooth skin of her thighs, until her dress was bunched up around her hips.

  ‘Mr Finch,’ she squealed, in mock horror. ‘How dare you! This is our first date!’

  He pulled away suddenly, his hands held high.

  ‘How insensitive of me, you wanted to take things slowly, didn’t you? I can’t apologise enough.’

  Robert reached across to the grapes and threw one into his mouth, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

  Ellie pursed her lips in annoyance, before throwing herself upon Robert, pressing herself urgently up against him. A fever flooded through him, his body singing with pleasure as his hands greedily explored every inch of Ellie’s body, kissing her more deeply than he’d ever done before. He was drowning in her, drunk on the smell of her skin and the feel of her in his arms. With a husky growl, Robert lowered Ellie down onto the blanket.

  ‘Is it wrong for me to declare my love for you on our first date?’ he said, gazing into her sparkling, blue eyes. ‘I love you, Ellie, from the tip of your toes up to the last strand of hair on your head.’

  Ellie laughed in delight.

  ‘I love you too, Robert,’ she whispered.

  ‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ he muttered.

  Robert curved his body over hers and reclaimed Ellie’s mouth once more. There were no more words, only touches and caresses, as the delicious food sat neglected around them, and the spectacular view was forgotten.

  The End

  About the author

  Sarah Picson is a passionate reader, a hopelessly-addicted writer and a history nerd.

  Keeping Juliette Company is her debut novel and the first book in the White Willow Lake series.

  She lives in Surrey with her family.

  If you enjoyed reading Keeping Juliette Company, please leave an honest review on Amazon.

  For more news and information about Sarah and her books please visit www.sarahpicson.co.uk

  Also by Sarah Picson

  A Song of Silver Leaves

  Book 2 in the White Willow Lake series

  Single mum Jenny Wallace is bored and lonely, although she won’t admit that to anyone! She chases after more fulfilment and excitement in her life, but after too many late nights and a string of disastrous dates, she finds herself at risk of losing what she cherishes most in the world.

  Mysterious Grant Covington keeps himself to himself. He spends his life on the move, determined to keep a step ahead of his past. However, when he attends a family funeral, he is forced to confront unresolved issues from his childhood that send him on a destructive downward spiral.

  Jenny talks too much and Grant barely talks at all, but sparks fly when they meet on a cold winter’s night in Thistleby. As Grant battles his past and Jenny fights for her future, those sparks begin to burn out of control for all the wrong reasons. Could they be in danger of losing their initial connection forever?

  Coming soon…