by Kate Hewitt
“Yeah, it was amazing.” Sam nodded enthusiastically before hitting him with a direct stare. “Are you coming back for dinner tonight, after Minecraft Club?”
The boy’s gaze was so guileless that James had a tough time to keep meeting it. It had been less than twenty-four hours since he’d said goodbye to Laura last night, and yet it had felt endless. He hadn’t realised just how much he’d enjoyed catching glimpses of her throughout the day, how much he’d depended on those snatches of conversations, those passing smiles.
No, scratch that. He had realised. He just hadn’t realised how much it would hurt, not seeing her, not knowing. Because he didn’t know where they stood, and he couldn’t stand the ignorance. She’d asked for time, for space, all those awful things he’d had to pretend to be cool with, but giving them to her was another thing entirely.
“Um, maybe?” he hazarded. “Your mum might have plans, Sam. I don’t want to be pushy, you know?” Little did the boy know just how pushy he was tempted to be. He wanted to sweep Laura up in his arms, kiss all her doubts away, tell her he was sorry for acting like a spoiled kid all weekend—because he was afraid he might have—and beg her to take him back.
Although perhaps he was overreacting. They hadn’t actually broken up…had they? Laura just needed to deal with some emotional stuff. That was totally expected, considering she’d been widowed just over a year ago. Maybe he just needed to chill. She was meant to be the panicker, after all, not him.
“My mum will be fine with it,” Sam assured him. “She likes you.”
Pathetic that an eleven-year-old innocent assessment gave him hope, but it did.
“All right, well, we’ll see. I’ll walk you home anyway,” James said. At least he’d get a chance to see Laura, gauge her mood. And he wouldn’t stay for supper if it was clear she didn’t want him to.
*
The hour-long club that afternoon felt endless, although James usually enjoyed himself. Today he checked the clock above the classroom door about every three minutes, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for time to pass. And finally it did; the club ended, parents picked up their kids, and he and Sam started back towards Willoughby Close.
The evenings were starting to get lighter, which was welcome after the dark winter, and James enjoyed the last of the sunlight streaking across the pale blue sky as they headed out of the village, Sam keeping up a cheerful chatter about skiing, school, and all things Minecraft.
As James glanced down at his rumpled dark hair, he had a sudden, piercing memory of Laura asking him if he could take on the raising of her two children. Could he be Sam’s stepdad?
On one hand, yes, the answer seemed obvious. Sam was a good kid, and he reminded James of himself when he’d been that age. Slightly geeky, enthusiastic, sensitive, yet brimming with easy optimism. He knew how to handle Sam.
But what about Maggie? While some of her theatrics reminded him of his sister Bella, he didn’t know how deep her anger or grief ran. He couldn’t picture himself in some vaguely authoritative role, telling her that her skirt was too short like his own dad had with his daughters, or thundering that she was grounded for some infraction or other. Although maybe Laura wasn’t looking for that kind of parenting. Maybe she’d want him to back off, because at the end of the day these weren’t his kids and they’d had a dad they’d loved for most of their lives.
Like he’d told Elin, it was complicated. More complicated than he wanted it to be, especially at this early stage. They’d catapulted themselves into a what-if world, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. He wanted to go back to the two of them teasing and flirting and kissing while they painted his living room wall a very nice shade of blue. That had been easy.
Shadows were beginning to gather as they headed into the close, and Sam flung open the front door of number three and barrelled inside, leaving James unsure whether he should follow.
“Mum, Mr Hill is here,” Sam sang out. “He can stay for dinner, right? Like he always does?”
When always was about three times. James remained on the doorstep, feeling woefully uncertain, hoping Laura didn’t think he’d pressured Sam into begging an invitation.
“Hey.” She came to the doorway, a faint flush to her cheek, nibbling her lower lip as her gaze swept quickly over him.
Since no invitation was forthcoming, James stumbled to fill the silence. “Hey. I don’t need to stay for dinner. I mean, I understand you wanted a little space…”
“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted in a low voice. James had no idea how to respond, or how to feel about that. Was that a good thing, or not so much?
“Okay,” he said at last.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “You’re going to despair of me.”
“No—”
“Come inside.” She opened the door wider. “Sam will be disappointed if you don’t stay.”
But he didn’t want to stay just for Sam’s sake. Trying not to feel the sting of her words, James started inside, only to stop at a screech from the courtyard.
“Laura!”
They both turned at the sound of the voice; James blinked bemusedly at the sight of a six-foot-tall women hurrying towards Laura, her left hand raised as if it was injured.
“Lindy,” Laura called in greeting, sounding almost as bemused as he felt.
“You’ll never guess! You’re the first person we’ve told.”
Belatedly James registered the tall fortyish man walking behind Lindy at a far more sedate pace.
“Told what?” Laura asked.
“We’re engaged.” Lindy held her hand out for Laura’s inspection, and James realised she’d been holding it up to show off her ring, a beautiful diamond sparkler.
“Oh…!” Laura sounded both delighted and stunned. “Wow. That was quick.”
“Yes, it was,” Lindy agreed happily. “But when you know, you know, right?” She gave James a meaningful glance, and he managed a smile back.
“How long were you guys dating?” he asked.
“Since just before Christmas.”
Whoa. That was less than three months. “Wow,” James said a bit weakly. “That’s great.”
“Neither of us is getting any younger,” Lindy said with a loved-up look for her fiancé. “So we figured we needed to get our skates on, especially if we’re going to have children.” She blushed becomingly at this, while James tried not to tug at his collar. The parallels that could be drawn felt screamingly obvious, and he didn’t think either he or Laura needed to be making them right now.
“Have you set a date?” Laura asked. She still looked a bit gobsmacked, while Lindy was radiant, her fiancé quietly brimming with happiness. The fact of their obvious joy made something inside James twist hard. He wanted that. He wanted to feel that. And he wanted Laura to, as well.
“Not yet, but we’re thinking springtime,” Lindy said.
“This springtime?” It was already March.
“Well, yes, like I said, we’re not getting any younger. And we’d like Roger’s mum to be there, if she can.” Lindy slipped an arm around his waist.
“She’s in hospice, with cancer,” Roger explained. “So we’re thinking April, actually.”
“Wow.” Laura shook her head slowly, and then smiled. “Wow. Well, congratulations. Like you said, when you know, you know.”
“Yup.” Lindy grinned at Roger. “You certainly do.”
After they’d left to go celebrate, James followed Laura into the cottage. She gave him a wry smile as she closed the door.
“Well, that’s one way to do it, I suppose.”
He couldn’t quite gauge her tone, but he knew she’d made comparisons, just as he had. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
“Lindy’s only thirty-six.” She glanced away from him. “Five years younger than me.”
“I am a primary schoolteacher,” he joked. “I can just about do the maths.”
“James…” There was no disguising the unhappiness in her eyes, and he coul
dn’t bear it.
“Look, there’s no need to rush things just because they are,” he said quickly, keeping his voice low so Sam, sprawled on the sofa, couldn’t hear. “Okay? Right now I’m here as Sam’s teacher, nothing more. Let’s not panic.”
She nodded, her gaze still troubled, and James didn’t think she was convinced by his argument, and that made him feel like panicking. He was falling in love with Laura, and he had a horrible feeling she was thinking about breaking up with him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Laura didn’t remember much about the dinner. Everything seemed to be happening from a distance as if she was underwater, or perhaps everyone else was. She kept seeing Lindy’s beaming smile and sparkling ring, and then James’s unhappy look. Half of her wanted to run into his arms, and the other half wanted to run away.
Why did it have to be so hard?
Of course, she knew the advice she should give herself. To relax, first of all, and just breathe. Chill, as Sam or Maggie might say. Stop thinking about babies and marriage when they’d been officially dating for little over a week. And yet it was hard not to think about those things, when Lindy was spouting off proclamations about how when you know, you know and we’re not getting any younger.
She and Tim had dated for two years before they’d got engaged, and then they’d had an eighteen-month engagement because Pamela had wanted such a big wedding for her only son. How could she be contemplating something serious with James after so little time? It made her head spin and her heart beat faster, and yet…and yet…
“Mum?” Sam stood in front of her, a frown wrinkling his forehead. “You are, like, seriously spacing.”
“Sorry.” She snapped back to attention, giving the table a general smile while somehow managing to avoid James’s gaze. Why? If only she could get things straight in her own mind, but she didn’t even know how to begin.
“I should probably go,” James said as he started to rise from the table. They’d only just finished; the table wasn’t even cleared yet, never mind about coffee on the sofa, as had been their habit.
“Already?” Sam’s face fell. “But I wanted to show you my new world on—”
“Another time, Sam.” James laid a hand briefly on his shoulder before he reached for his jacket. “Thanks for dinner. Delicious as always. Shepherd’s pie is actually one of my favourites.”
“You always say that,” Maggie said, smiling, which heartened Laura. Her daughter so rarely smiled.
“Because they’ve all been favourites,” James replied. He shrugged on his jacket, meeting everyone’s gaze but Laura’s, just as she’d been doing to him since he’d come into the cottage. What a pair they were. “Bye, everyone. See you tomorrow, Sam.”
“I’ll see you out,” Laura said hurriedly, because she couldn’t leave it like this, an hour of painful awkwardness. James didn’t reply and both Maggie and Sam sloped off without removing a single dish from the table. Laura wasn’t about to nag them now.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted as soon as they were outside. It was lighter in the evenings now, and she didn’t have the cover of darkness to hide her blushes.
“You don’t need to be sorry for anything, Laura.” James sounded sad, and that tore at her heart. She was hurting him, and she couldn’t bear it. How had it come to this?
“I still am,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t even know what’s happened, but it feels like everything is unravelling between us.”
“I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.” He paused, his clouded gaze scanning her face. “If you don’t want me to, anyway.”
Laura hesitated, and James nodded slowly in understanding. “I’ll see you later.”
“James…”
“It’s okay. You asked for time and space, and I really do want to give it to you. Coming to dinner tonight was probably an ill-judged idea, but with Sam…”
“I’m glad you stayed.” Her throat felt thick and she had to force the words out. James nodded again, and then he started walking out of the courtyard.
Why did it feel as if he were walking out of her life? And she was letting him?
She needed, Laura thought miserably, to call Chantal. She needed someone to talk her down from this ledge she hadn’t even realised she’d clambered up on. Maybe she wasn’t even on it; she just felt as if she was. She didn’t know anything anymore. With a raggedy sigh she watched James disappear around the corner, and she turned back towards the house.
“Why were you out there so long?” Maggie asked sharply as Laura closed the door behind her. She stiffened at the suspicion in her daughter’s voice and found herself prevaricating. Again.
“I was just saying goodbye.”
“You guys aren’t, like, friends, are you?” The disdain, and even the disgust, was audible. Maggie stood at the bottom of the stairs, her arms ominously folded, while Laura busied herself with clearing the table.
“Yes, we’re friends. We worked together for six weeks, after all. Can you help clear, please, Maggie?”
Grudgingly Maggie took a single glass to the sink. “But not, like, really friends,” she stated.
Every parental antennae was twanging unbearably as Laura strove to keep her voice light. “What does that mean?”
“I mean…you’re just friends because you have to be. Because of Sam and school and stuff.”
“We like each other,” Laura said carefully, knowing it would be worse to lie. Her heart had started to thud; she felt as if she were defusing a bomb. “Why are you asking?”
She forced herself to meet Maggie’s gaze; her daughter was staring at her hard. “What do you mean, you like each other?” Her voice was now edged with something like panic, and Laura felt the situation slipping out of control. She felt instinctively that to lie when asked point-blank would be worse than not telling at all, and yet this seemed far from the perfect moment, with Maggie aggressive and James having just walked away with his heart in his eyes.
“We like each other,” she stated again, a bit desperately. “It’s…” She meant to say no big deal but somehow she couldn’t make herself.
“You’re not…” Maggie swallowed convulsively. “You’re not…like…dating, though.” There was a pleading note in her voice that reminded Laura of when she’d been a child, asking her to check under the bed again before she turned the light out at bedtime. Maggie had once had a deathly fear of under-the-bed monsters.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Maggie…”
“You are.” She sounded horrified. “I can’t believe it. How long has it been going on? Why have you been keeping this secret?”
“Not very long,” Laura said quickly. “Just since you’ve been away skiing. I was going to tell you when the moment was right—”
“You guys were shacked up together while Sam and I were skiing?”
“Maggie, no!” Laura’s voice came out sharply. “Of course we weren’t shacked up. For heaven’s sake. We went on a date.” Or twelve.
“But he’s like, fifteen years younger than you—”
“Nine, actually, and yes, I know there is an age difference.”
Maggie glared at her, and then her face started to crumple. “What about Dad?”
Laura drew a careful breath. “What about Dad?” she repeated quietly.
“He’s only been dead a year.”
“Fifteen months, Maggie, and—”
“Oh well, then, that makes it all right.” Maggie rolled her eyes, her expression both fierce and heartbroken. She reminded Laura of a wild animal, trapped and terrified, lashing out.
“I know this is a shock,” Laura said carefully. “I didn’t want to tell you this way.”
“When were you going to tell me?” Maggie demanded.
Laura shrugged helplessly. “Soon. We’ve only just started dating, and I’m not even sure…” She paused, deciding now was not the time to go into it. “It’s all very new, and the truth is I was worried, Maggie.” Worried that she’d take the
news exactly as she was. “Dating James doesn’t mean I didn’t love Dad,” she said hesitantly, unsure if that was even the angle that upset her daughter. Maggie’s reaction seemed over the top and yet at the same time completely expected. “And it doesn’t have to change anything between us. It won’t change anything between us—”
This was clearly the wrong thing to say, because Maggie let out a strangled cry and then raced upstairs, slamming her bedroom door so hard the sound reverberated through the whole house. Laura let out a shuddering sigh.
That went well. Not.
“Why’s Maggie so upset?” Sam asked as he came downstairs, iPad in hand, hair sliding into his eyes.
Laura released a slow breath. “I told her that Mr Hill and I are—are seeing each other.” Although she wasn’t even sure if they were anymore. James had looked so resigned as he’d left the close, and she’d said she wanted time and space, neither of which she seemed to have. Everything felt confused.
“You are?” Sam’s face lit up. “Cool.”
Laura almost laughed out loud at her son’s simple response. “You’re okay with it?” she asked, just to check, and he shrugged his assent.
“Sure.”
Well, that was something, Laura supposed. She tousled Sam’s hair and told him to do his homework while she headed upstairs. She knocked once on Maggie’s door, but her daughter’s muffled ‘go away’ made her reconsider trying for a reconciliation so soon. She’d give her some time to cool off, and meanwhile she could have a much-needed talk with Chantal.
She hadn’t had the time or energy to call her and debrief her about the weekend in Shropshire, although she’d managed a text saying things were complicated, to which Chantal had fired back that everything was, accompanied by an inexplicable aubergine emoji.
Needing privacy, she told Sam she was going to give Perry a quick walk, and headed outside with a bewildered dog in tow, to find the best place on the property for mobile reception.
The first stars were coming out in the sky like twinkling pinpricks as Laura huddled on the lawn in front of Willoughby Manor, a morose Perry at her feet, and dialled Chantal’s number.