by Rosie Green
‘Hey, you,’ laughs Seb, tickling her and making her squeal.
‘Can we have some cake now, Jess?’ pleads Bella.
‘After the fireworks,’ says Seb firmly.
I smile down at Bella. ‘You’d better tell me your daddy’s rules to stay safe.’
She nods and slips her small, gloved hand into mine again, pointing at a row of upturned flower pots. ‘You have to stand behind here. You’re not allowed to go too near the fire or you might get burned.’
‘Okay. Can I stand beside you while your daddy lights the fireworks? Sometimes the bangs can be a bit scary but I’ll feel braver if I’m holding your hand.’
Bella nods happily and starts jumping up and down as Seb goes over to light the first firework.
Seb returns to his daughter’s side and takes her other hand. Bella stops dancing about and stares at the sky, her mouth open, and we watch in awe as the firework rockets into the air, exploding over our heads in a breath-taking cascade of glittering pinks and purples.
As Seb sets off a succession of exploding fireworks, Bella stands right next to me, holding my hand tightly all the time – and it’s only when he starts rigging up a Catherine Wheel on a post that she lets go.
‘There’s nothing to be frightened of, Jess,’ she says, her earnest expression melting my heart. ‘Daddy says the bangs are loud but they won’t hurt you.’
‘You have a very wise daddy.’ I look over at Seb and we lock eyes again for a moment before he returns to the Catherine Wheel.
Later, we head for the kitchen and I unpack the cake and put the kettle on to make hot chocolate. We take it upstairs to the only room in the house that has somewhere to sit. I spread the old squashy cushions on the floor and Bella sits down with an old story book of Isla’s and starts looking through it, turning the pages carefully and frowning at the words.
‘Would you like that book, Bella? Perhaps your mummy could read it to you?’ I glance quickly at Seb but his expression doesn’t change.
‘Daddy can read it.’ Bella smiles at him.
‘What do you say to Jess?’
Bella turns to me. ‘Thank you very much, Jess. I like this book.’
‘Maybe you’ll be a bookworm like me, then.’
‘A book worm.’ She giggles. ‘Worms are slimy. I don’t want to be one of those. Do you, Daddy?’
Seb shakes his head. ‘I’d much rather be a caterpillar. Although the shoes would be a problem. All those feet!’
Bella has a fit of the giggles, falling back on the cushions. It’s infectious and soon, Seb and I are laughing, too. A warm glow wraps itself around us, and I feel blessed to be part of this cosy little party for three. For the first time since we lost Dad, I actually feel relaxed about being in this house.
This happy time with Seb and Bella is a reminder to me that no matter what tragedies might happen to you in life, there’s always the chance that one day, you’ll feel happy again. Maybe just for a moment. Or a day. But those times are what will make life seem worth living again.
Bella slurps the rest of her hot chocolate and manages to spill some on the book and on the lovely wooden floor Seb has laid.
He leaps up. ‘I’ll get a cloth.’
Bella looks at me guiltily. ‘Mummy says I’m clumsly.’
‘Oh. Does she? No, it’s fine, Bella. It was an accident. We’re all clumsy sometimes.’
She rubs the spillage with her finger then licks it. ‘I spilled milk on Mummy’s new shoes and she got really cross and wouldn’t let me watch TV.’
‘Oh, dear.’ I bring out a paper hanky. ‘Here. Let me.’ I wipe the page, wondering about the effect that her parents’ splintered relationship is having on Bella, who’s caught in the middle. I was devastated when my parents split up but I was a lot older and in a better position to understand what was happening. But Bella, at five years old, must be so bewildered.
She looks at me solemnly. ‘Jess?’
‘Yes, Bella?’ My heart lurches at her serious expression.
‘Please could I have some more marshmallow cake?’
‘Oh, I’m sure that can be arranged.’ I smile at her, rising to my feet and feeling rather relieved that her question was easy to answer. ‘Are you okay reading your book while I go and ask your daddy if it’s okay?’
‘Uh-huh.’ She bows her head over Magnus the Magnificent Mouse.
Smiling, I run down the stairs to join Seb in the kitchen, where he’s squeezing out a cloth under the tap.
‘Your daughter would like some more marshmallow cake. Is that allowed?’
He smiles. ‘Seeing as it’s a special occasion.’
He looks round for a dry cloth and I grab one from the bench and hand it to him.
‘Tonight has been lovely,’ he says, moving a step closer.
‘I know.’ I smile shyly up at him. ‘Thank you for inviting me.’
‘Thank you for being so good with Bella,’ he says gruffly.
‘She’s gorgeous. A real credit to you.’
‘You smell of bonfire smoke.’ He moves closer still and a shiver of longing ripples through me.
Smiling, I take a step forward. ‘So do you do.’ Closing my eyes and breathing it in, I feel my head spin and next second, I’m swaying against him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Seb catches me around the waist and when I open my eyes, a little gasp escapes my lips at his closeness. His blue eyes, gazing down at me, remind me of a calm sea on a hot, sunny day, and I can’t seem to drag my gaze away.
I make a supreme effort, aware of Bella upstairs. ‘We need to . . .’ I flick my eyes upwards.
‘Yes,’ he growls. And then his mouth comes down hard on mine, sweeping me away on a tide of passion, making me feel things I’ve never felt with any man before. He pulls me hard against him and I reach up on my toes, my hands on his neck as he grinds his mouth against mine. I slide my hands into his hair, desperate to get even closer –
‘Daddy? Can you come and read me this story?’
At the sound of his daughter’s voice at the top of the stairs, Seb breaks away. He gazes at me, breathing fast, his eyes ablaze. Then he grabs the damp cloth from the bench and in a couple of strides, he’s out of the kitchen and bounding up the stairs to Bella.
I swallow hard. There was no mistaking the passion in that kiss. Could he . . . is it possible he feels the same way about me?
In a daze, I go to the cake tin and cut some slices of parkin, arranging them on a plate. Then I remember it should be marshmallow cake, for Bella. So I replace the parkin and go through the process again. My insides are in such uproar, I know I couldn’t eat any myself.
Seb kissed me and I kissed him back.
Did it really happen? Or was I dreaming? I touch my lips. They feel swollen . . . bruised, almost. It definitely happened! Suddenly feeling as if my heart has sprouted wings, I grab the cake plate and leave the kitchen. Hurrying up the stairs, I have an overwhelming urge just to be with Seb and Bella again . . .
Half way up, the doorbell rings, stopping me in my tracks.
Who . . . ?
I turn, staring back down the stairs, through the panel of glass in the door, at the hazy outline of someone standing outside. As the bell rings a second time, Seb and Bella come to the head of the stairs and I run down and pull open the door.
Aleksandra sweeps in, bringing a draft of freezing night air with her. Snowflakes glint on her perfect, gleaming hair, although her expression is far from festive.
She ignores me and stands, arms folded, in the hallway, staring up at Seb and Bella.
‘Ah, so there you are! What on earth are you doing in this house when it’s cold enough to freeze ice cubes?’
‘Aleksandra. Do come in,’ says Seb, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he comes down the stairs to join us. ‘Actually, we didn’t even notice the cold,’ he murmurs, his eyes flicking briefly in my direction, and a shiver runs through me as I recall the heat of our passionate embrace.
He tu
rns to Bella, who’s following him down, carrying her book. ‘Time to go, love.’
‘I got a new book, Mummy.’ She holds it up. ‘Jess said I could have it.’
Aleksandra flicks her eyes frostily over me and then back to Bella. ‘Very nice. Now, we need to go. Daddy needs to get an early night.’ She looks archly at Seb and his face darkens.
‘I’ll just get you some cake to take home,’ I say quickly, glancing at Aleksandra.
She doesn’t respond, just looks at her watch pointedly, so I dash into the kitchen and grab a clean plastic container from the draining board and fill it with squares of marshmallow cake.
Bella balances the box carefully on top of her book and gives me a gap-toothed grin. ‘Thank you, Jess. You can have some, Mummy. It’s ‘licious.’
‘Good. Come on, then.’ She takes Bella’s hand and whisks her towards the door. ‘Good luck tomorrow,’ she calls, and then they’re gone.
I look up at Seb. ‘Tomorrow?’
‘I’ve been head-hunted.’ He stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks at his feet. ‘Building company needs a new chief executive. I’m meeting the team tomorrow.’
‘Oh.’ His news surprises me. ‘But I thought you liked working alone best.’
‘I do. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is go to that meeting tomorrow.’
‘So why are you going?’ A feeling of foreboding is creeping through me. Seb was so adamant he’d never work for anyone else again.
His shoulders slump slightly. ‘Aleksandra wants to move to Australia. She’s got family out there.’
‘Oh.’ My head reels at this news. ‘And . . . you don’t want her to go?’
He gives his head a rough shake. ‘If she emigrates, she’s taking Bella with her. The only way she’ll stay in the UK is if we’re a proper family again and I climb back on the bloody corporate ladder.’ He gives a helpless shrug. ‘If I don’t agree to her conditions, I lose my daughter.’
I stare up at him in horror. He looks totally crushed and I can understand why. I try to imagine it happening . . . Aleksandra and Bella emigrating. Seb would hardly ever see his daughter.
‘I’d have to go with them,’ he says, staring bleakly down the hall. ‘If they left the country. I can’t lose her, Jess.’
I open my mouth to say he wouldn’t actually be losing Bella if she went to Australia. But I close it again. The horror of not being able to see your child on a regular basis would be a living nightmare . . .
We stand in silence as I absorb what it would mean.
‘But . . . Aleksandra has said she’s prepared to stay in the UK?’ I say at last.
He grunts. ‘Only if I get a “proper job” and start earning the sort of money I used to bring in when I owned the company.’ His mouth twists in a bitter smile. ‘She got used to a certain standard of living. Aleksandra likes the good life.’
‘But you’re not exactly poor, doing what you’re doing now. Working for yourself like this,’ I protest. ‘You can command a very good salary . . . I should think.’
He grins. ‘Do you mean I’m over-charging you?’
‘No!’ I find myself blushing because I have looked at some of Seb’s invoices that he sent to Isla. They were on the bedside table when I collected the box from under the bed. The charges seemed totally fair to me. ‘You’re doing a fabulous job on this house. You’re worth every penny.’
He chuckles. ‘I was only teasing. I actually charge slightly less than the going rate when I’ve got a big project like this to tackle. It’s nice you think I’m value for money, though.’
‘Oh, you are,’ I tell him earnestly.
He raises one eyebrow suggestively, his eyes twinkling, and a shy smile spreads over my face. We’re clearly not just talking about house renovations now . . .
I step towards him, boldly placing my hands on his chest, and he slips his arms around me. He gazes down into my eyes, and although the feeling of being held by him is filling me with such heart-stopping joy, it’s bitter sweet because I can sense his deep despair. Instead of kissing me, his fingers lightly stroke my hair and I rest the side of my face against his chest, feeling the thump of his heart beat.
‘Oh God, Jess,’ he murmurs into my hair. ‘My life is so complicated right now. I don’t want you drawn into it.’
‘But what if I want to be drawn in?’ My throat feels so choked, I can hardly get the words out.
He gives a deep sigh and tightens his arms around me, and for a moment, my heart takes flight. He really does care about me. . .
‘It wouldn’t be fair.’ His voice is gruff. ‘It could never end well. To keep Bella in my life, I have two choices. Try to make it work with Aleksandra in a family unit. Or move to Australia with them.’
My throat is aching as gently, he turns my face so that he can look into my eyes. ‘Neither of those options can involve a third person. You. However much I might want them to.’
His words are like a punch to my stomach.
But I nod, blinking rapidly. ‘You need to think about Bella. That’s the most important thing.’
He nods slowly and draws me closer so my head is tucked under his chin, his fingers rubbing my neck. Tears are leaking out now, onto his shirt. He wraps his arms around me and holds me tightly, as if he’ll never let me go.
But I know it’s no good.
When I break away from him, a wave of despair courses through me. I feel as if I’m leaving part of myself behind. But I have to stay strong. At least until I’m out of sight . . .
I reach up and brush his lips with mine. ‘I understand. You’ve got to do what you have to do.’ Summoning up a smile from goodness knows where, I gaze into his blue eyes for a moment longer. ‘Tell Bella I hope she enjoys the book.’
Then I walk out of the house and close the door gently behind me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I walk in to a chaotic house.
Isla is slumped on the sofa, a glass in her hand, looking bleary-eyed. There’s a partly demolished pizza on a plate on the floor, and Isla must have stood in it at some point because there’s a piece of tomato-smeared crust hanging off her slipper.
‘Hi, hadnishetime?’ She raises her glass and half of the contents slops onto her jogger bottoms. (Correction, my jogger bottoms.)
I stare at her, translating. ‘Nice time? Yes.’ Under my breath, I mutter, ‘But then the witch arrived.’
‘Witch?’ Isla stares around her, looking bemused. ‘I thought we’d had Hallowe’en.’
I breathe out loudly in frustration. ‘Me, too,’ I snap, annoyed at the mess and the fact that she’s helped herself to a bucket of my alcohol. Although, if I’m honest, the person I’m most angry with is Aleksandra for shamelessly manipulating Seb into doing what she wants. He really doesn’t deserve it . . .
Isla has been quaffing my almost full bottle of Christmas sherry. It’s been there for years because no-one drinks it. But within a few short hours of being in Isla’s grasp, the level has plunged to barely half.
‘That’s sherry, you know. Not wine,’ I point out waspishly.
She throws me a painful glance. ‘Christ, Jess, I’m not stupid.’ She grins at her glass. ‘It’s nice, this.’ She goes to top herself up but misses the bottle, presumably having aimed for the wrong one.
‘Seeing three of everything?’ I enquire, swiping the bottle for myself and pouring some into an empty water glass on the side table. I swig it down, wincing at how sweet it is. How the hell can Isla have drunk so much of this putrid stuff?
Gazing around me, I snap. ‘Isla, this place is a bloody mess! When I said you could come and stay, I didn’t expect to be your personal maid, running around after you, clearing up the chaos left in your wake. You might have Jamie trained to be your willing slave but you can count me out.’
Her face drops. I’ve obviously touched a nerve there. Bloody typical. She’s great at speaking her mind but as soon as someone does the same to her, she can’t take it.
Next momen
t, the alcohol hits my system, making my head feel pleasantly woozy. Suddenly craving more of its undoubtedly effective anaesthetic properties, I pour the last of the bottle into the glass and take a big gulp.
‘Sorry, Isla, but you must admit this place is a pit since you arrived . . .’ I put down the glass just as my sister heaves herself off the sofa, stands in the pizza and flees from the room, sobbing.
I stand there, stunned, at the rare sight of Isla in tears.
Sighing, I follow her down the hall and find her face down on the bed.
‘Hey, listen, I’m sorry. I’m tired, that’s all, and I’ve had a weird night.’
‘Do you want me out?’ Her voice is muffled. ‘I wouldn’t blame you.’
‘No, of course not. I want you to stay. It’s just my tolerance of mess isn’t as low as yours, that’s all.’
I fish a hanky out of my pocket. It’s crumpled but it’s clean. I rub her back briskly. ‘Here, sit up and blow your nose. And tell me what’s wrong. Apart from me being a nag, of course. Because there must be something else you’re not telling me.’
‘How do you know?’ She turns over and sits up, shuffling back until she’s resting against the headboard, hugging her knees. Her face is blotchy, her eyes puffy. She looks terrible.
‘How do I know there’s something wrong? Because you’re not yourself.’ I shrug. ‘No make-up, for a start. And you hate sherry. And there was a time you’d rather eat mouse droppings and slugs than stoop to ordering in fast food. But now, you never stop eating it.’
‘Slugs are too tough.’ She gives me a watery smile. ‘And the mouse droppings get in your teeth.’
I laugh softly. ‘That’s better. Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on or do I have to resort to tickling?’
Her eyes widen in alarm and she instinctively moves back. Isla is the most ticklish person I’ve ever known. It was always the best way to get her to spill information when we were kids.
I grin. ‘So what’s it to be?’
She heaves a huge sigh. A single tear leaks out of her eye and drops down her cheek. ‘I’ve been trying to keep going. Telling myself things will get back to the way they were. But it’s no use. Jamie’s gone off with someone else and he’s never coming back to me.’ She buries her head in her arms and sobs.