by M K Farrar
But she found herself smiling. “And why would I want to do that?”
They grinned at each other, and Natalie’s heart pattered. This was so intense. Some people said they just knew instantly upon meeting someone that they were the one. Love at first sight. She wasn’t sure she believed in all of that, but in her heart, she realised she wanted to.
“What about your family?” she asked, breaking the moment.
He twisted his lips and refocused on the road. “No family, sadly. I was an only child. Both my parents died young—my mum of cancer, and then my dad a year later of a heart attack. I think it was an actual broken heart that killed him, though. They were one of those couples who met as teenagers and instantly fell in love, and neither of them ever needed to look at another person.”
“That’s so sweet and sad at the same time. How old were you when they died?”
“Seventeen when Mum passed, and eighteen when Dad followed her. I should be thankful I wasn’t any younger. At least it meant I was old enough to manage on my own, and I didn’t end up in foster care or something.”
“Yeah, I hear those places can be rough.” She didn’t remember a whole lot about her own experiences in the system. She’d been so young. All she had was flashes of sensation or emotion rather than actual memories. Feelings of being cold. Or crying. Or not knowing where she was.
“It wasn’t easy, though,” he admitted. “I’d just lost the person closest to me, was still grieving my mother as well, and then I had everything else to try and work out. I’d never even paid a bill on my own, and overnight I had to figure out how to run an entire household.”
“Were you an only child?”
“Yes. I think my parents had wanted more, but it never happened. I used to joke with them that they’d only had me because they knew they could never improve on perfection.” He threw her a cheeky wink. “What about you? Brothers or sisters?”
“No. I’m an only child, like you.” It wasn’t completely a lie. She really didn’t have any brothers or sisters, at least not that she was aware of. Her birth parents might have had multiple children after they’d decided they no longer wanted her, but she had no way of knowing that. As for Anthony, well, she could never really consider him to be a brother. Anyway, he was dead now. She was very much an only child.
He closed his hand around hers, their fingers entwining, and he lifted the back of her hand to his lips and kissed her skin. “Seems we have something in common then.”
She smiled, the heat of his kiss burning through her. “I guess it does.”
They’d been on the road for about an hour, when he finally pulled up in a car park beneath a grassy hill.
“Here we are,” he announced.
She craned her neck. She recognised the place. The roofless, ancient tower sitting on top of the hill could be seen for miles around.
“Glastonbury Tor,” she said.
He cocked his head at her. “You’ve been here before?”
“No, I haven’t. Though of course I’ve heard about it, and I’ve seen it from a distance plenty of times.”
They climbed out of the car. Brightly coloured dots of people were already climbing the hill, the path winding around it like a spinning top, while yet more tourists in the car park were preparing themselves for the climb.
The sky was a clear, deep blue. The sun shone brightly, though the heat of the summer had already waned.
“Have you ever been up here?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “No, never.”
“The view from the top is incredible. Come on.”
They set off, and he took her hand, linking his fingers with hers. Her heart warmed at his touch, and she wrapped her other hand around his forearm and squeezed herself against his biceps. His stride was long and fast, climbing the steep hill with speed and determination. He barely seemed puffed out at the exertion. Natalie was used to being on her feet hour after hour at the pub, but his pace was too fast for her.
“Can we slow down a little,” she gasped, tugging on his arm to try to hinder his progress. He was strong, though, and he didn’t even falter.
“You can do it,” Nat,” he replied cheerfully, barely even breathing hard. “You know, if it isn’t hard, it isn’t changing us for the better.”
She wasn’t sure she even wanted to be changed, at least not as far as her fitness went. There were plenty of things she worried about in this life, but that wasn’t one of them. But she also wanted him to like her, and she didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of him, so she pushed herself harder, doing her best to keep up. They passed other couples and families with kids, and even older people taking it more slowly. Their speedy ascent garnered a good few raised eyebrows, but she did her best to ignore them. She hoped this wasn’t going to be something he made a habit out of every weekend. She tended to prefer things to be a little more leisurely.
They reached the top, and he released his hold on her fingers to plant both hands on his hips and survey the view.
Natalie did her best not to fold in two and gasp for breath.
“Aren’t the views fantastic?” he declared. “Three hundred and sixty degrees.”
As she gradually caught her breath, she looked around. The views were beautiful, as was the single tower rising from the top of the hill.
“It used to be part of a church, you know,” Kyle said. “There are lots of legends and folklore told about this place. There’s supposed to be a fairy realm under the hill, and King Arthur was meant to have come here after his last battle. It’s even told that Jesus himself visited.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Jesus?”
She hoped he wasn’t going to get all religious on her. Religion definitely wasn’t something she was into. She felt awkward just being around it. It was most likely her own guilt that made her feel that way, and nothing to do with the other person, but that didn’t change the jolt of discomfort she experienced at the mention of anything to do with God.
He must have seen her expression as he chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to drag you off to church or anything. I just find history interesting. This place inspired William Blake to write the poem, Jerusalem.”
She frowned, not recognising the title. “Jerusalem?”
“Yes.” He drew in a breath. “‘And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England’s mountains green?
And was the Holy Lamb of God
On England’s pleasant pastures seen.”
He grew dreamy-eyed as he quoted the poetry.
“You enjoy poetry, too?” she asked, noting how it had affected him.
“I do, especially the classical stuff. There’s something calming and peaceful about it. The rhythm and rhyming are good for the soul, don’t you think?”
She’d never really given much thought to poetry, but she liked the way he was describing it. Seeing how it affected him warmed her from the inside, and she slipped her hand back into his.
“Yes, I do,” she agreed.
He beamed at her, and she was happy she’d given him the right answer.
“That’s so good to hear, Natalie.” And he pulled her in for a kiss.
Chapter Six
By the time they parked outside her flat, it was almost dark.
She hesitated, wanting to invite him in. But she also worried that if he saw her place, he might think differently about her. They’d had such a perfect day, she didn’t want to ruin it.
And if you invite him in, there’s a good chance you’ll sleep with him.
She knew that, too. They were both grown adults, but she didn’t want this to descend into them sleeping together then everything changing. She’d enjoyed this difference in his dating style—how they didn’t just go out and get drunk together, as had happened with most boyfriends before, then end up with some unsatisfactory drunken fumble that embarrassed them both. This felt like it could be the start of a real, adult relationship, and she didn’t want to do anything that
would mess it up.
Besides, the way he was wrinkling his nose as he looked up and out of the car windscreen, and towards her building, she didn’t think he much wanted to come in either.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me just dropping you off here?” he asked.
Her stomach sank. Oh, so he definitely didn’t want to come in then.
Kyle must have picked up on her thoughts. “I don’t mean like that. I mean that it’s safe around here, isn’t it? I feel bad leaving you here.”
He surprised a laugh out of her. “Of course, it’s fine. I know it’s not the best of areas, but it’s not really that bad.”
Was he a total snob? He seemed more upper class than her, but his reaction felt a little over the top.
“I’m just being protective, sorry. Now that I’ve found you, I want to bundle you up in cotton wool and lock you in a padded room so I can be sure nothing bad will ever happen to you.”
She thought of the folded newspaper clipping that had been put under her door. She still hadn’t managed to ask Mina if she’d received one, too. It hadn’t meant anything, though, had it? It was just coincidence. There were plenty of blond, teenage boys out there, and yes, sometimes bad things happened to them. It didn’t mean it had anything to do with her. It wasn’t as though she could really talk to anyone about it either. Doing so would mean bringing up Anthony, and that was the very last thing she wanted to do.
Dragging herself from her thoughts, she squeezed his hand to reassure him. “I promise, I’ll be fine.”
“You could always come back to mine. I live near Clifton Down.”
The area he was mentioning was known for its beautiful properties and spectacular views. It was a far cry from her run-down street and poky terraced flat.
“It’s not one of the old town houses or anything,” he continued, “it’s a new build in a cul-de-sac. But there’s plenty of space.”
She wasn’t completely sure what he was offering her.
“I’d love to see your place, but it is getting late now. Another time?”
“When are you next free? I work from home, so I can be flexible.”
“Oh.” She quickly thought to her next day off. “How does Wednesday work for you?”
He grinned. “Wednesday is perfect. I’ll pick you up, and you can come back to mine, and I’ll cook for us.”
“You don’t need to pick me up. I can drive, remember? Just let me have your address.”
“Nonsense, Natalie. I’ll come and collect you. I can’t have you breaking down in the middle of Bristol.”
She wanted to point out that her old banger managed to get her to and from Devon every weekend, but she kept her mouth shut. If he was going to the effort of cooking for her, he probably wouldn’t want her to either be late, or for him to do a mad rescue mission when he was in the middle of baking, all because she drove a crappy car.
He got out and was already around to her side, opening the door for her, before she’d even managed to fish her handbag out of the footwell. She liked that he was a gentleman, and he walked her to her front door.
He kissed her again. “I still hate that I’m leaving you here.”
“And I hate that you’re leaving, but we’ll see each other again soon.”
“Absolutely.”
He stole another kiss, and she sensed how neither of them wanted to part. She was tempted once more to invite him inside, but she was enjoying this too much to risk spoiling it. It had been a long time since she’d felt like this about someone—if she’d ever felt like this about someone—and it was too precious a gift to ruin it.
They said their final goodbyes, then she slipped through her front door, into the entrance hall. The stairs leading up to the neighbours’ flat were in darkness, and she didn’t know if they were home. Natalie went to her own front door and used her key to unlock it. She found herself sucking in a breath, shoulders tensed, just in case a second newspaper clipping was waiting for her, but there was nothing. It was silly of her to get so wound up about it. No one here knew anything about Anthony, and no one alive had any idea about the truth of what had really taken place that day.
She was letting her paranoia get out of hand.
Chapter Seven
Wednesday took forever to come around.
She and Kyle had exchanged texts and a couple of phone calls in between, though, chatting long into the early hours when she got back from work. She laughed about how he kept even worse hours than her, but he said he ran his own schedule, and sacrificing sleep to talk to her was well worth it.
Natalie had spent forever picking out her outfit. She’d wanted to look as though she hadn’t tried too hard, but she also wanted him to think she could fit into his world. In the end, she’d chosen a dress and teamed it with a cream cardigan. She hoped it wasn’t going to get too cold, but then reasoned that they were going to be inside anyway. It wasn’t as though he was going to get her to hike to the top of a hill today—or at least she hoped he wasn’t, since she’d finished off the outfit with a little pair of slip-on kitten heels.
She waited anxiously at the window, watching out for his car.
Right on time, the Audi appeared, driving down her road. There was nowhere to park, as usual, so she grabbed her handbag, pulled the door shut behind her, and hurried out to meet him.
Mina was entering the building as she was leaving.
“Oh, Mina, hi. Can I ask you something quickly?”
“Of course, Natalie. How can I help?”
“I just wondered if you’d put a newspaper clipping under my door the other day?”
Her smooth brow furrowed. “A newspaper clipping? No, I didn’t.”
“And you didn’t receive one yourself?”
“Not that I know of, though Sajad might have seen it before I did and thrown it away. What was it about?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just about a boy who’d gone missing up north. I thought it was strange that it ended up under my door, that was all. No one else has access to my front door unless they’re let in the main door first.”
Her frown deepened, and she pursed her lips. “Hmm. I’ll ask Sajad and see if he knows anything.”
“Thank you. I’d better go. My date is waiting outside.”
Mina’s dark eyes flashed with naughty excitement. “Oooh, is that him? The one in the big fancy car?”
Her cheeks heated, but she couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Well, don’t keep him waiting. Shoo, shoo.”
Natalie laughed but did as she was instructed and shooed herself out onto the street to meet Kyle. He was still sitting behind the wheel, and she rounded the front of the Audi to the passenger side, where she opened the door and slid into the seat beside him.
Kyle leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“Who was that woman going into the house?” The question was direct, abrupt.
“That’s Mina. She lives upstairs from me with her boyfriend—or he might be her husband. I’ve never actually asked.”
“You don’t know them that well, then?”
“No, not really. We stop and chat, but that’s all. They’re here from Iran, and they seem very nice.”
“Having good neighbours is important,” he said.
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
“I’ve been cooking up a storm all morning, so I hope you’re hungry.”
She was glad he’d moved away from talking about her place. “I am. Starving.”
“Good to hear it.”
Within twenty minutes, he pulled into his street. She read the road sign as they passed. Kinnaird Crescent. The road was closed off to through traffic, creating a quiet little close.
“This is lovely,” she commented.
He beamed at the praise. “Thank you.” He swung the car into a driveway, the garage detached from the house. “Here we are.”
She climbed out and followed him to the red-painted front door. He let her in, and she stepped into a wide entrance
hall, and he shut the door behind her. She couldn’t help but look around curiously, trying to garner more information about this man. It seemed like such a family home—a family area, too—and not the sort of penthouse apartment she imagined where someone like him would want to live.
Kyle clapped his hands. “Let me get you a drink, and then I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“Wonderful.”
She followed him through the house to a large kitchen with flagstone flooring and an island in black marble. A large American-style fridge freezer stood to one side, and he went to it and opened the door.
Natalie sniffed the air. “Mmm, something smells good.”
“It’s the slow-cooked lamb we’re having.”
“I can’t wait.”
“White wine?” he offered, extracting a bottle and showing it to her. “We should probably have red with the lamb, but white will work better with the scallop starter.”
The wine was a chardonnay, but she had no idea if it was a good one or not. At the pub she worked in, they only served three types of wine—white, red, or rosé—and due to their mainly male clientele, hardly anyone ordered any of them anyway. The women who did come into the pub tended to drink vodka Red Bull.
“Lovely,” she replied with a smile.
She placed her handbag down on the kitchen island, and he poured her a glass of wine and handed it over. She noted he didn’t pour a glass for himself. “Are you not having one?”
“I’ll save myself for a glass of red with the lamb. I still have to drive you home, after all.”
“I’m happy to get a taxi,” she offered, though she wasn’t sure she had enough money on her to pay for one. Or you could just ask me to stay here, she thought but didn’t have the guts to say.
“Nonsense. I’m happy to drive you. Now, let me show you around. Clearly, this is the kitchen.”
She laughed. “Yes, I figured that out for myself. It is beautiful.”
The kitchen led out onto a compact but tidy back garden, complete with a patio and wicker garden furniture and a BBQ. She wondered if he ever had groups of friends over here in the summer. He hadn’t mentioned any friends, but then neither had she. Perhaps they were both loners, and that was why they understood each other so well.