Into the Light

by Megan Hetherington

  “I’ll be okay on my own in there.”

  “You sure?”

  “Well if you don’t mind checking first,” I say, with an apologetic look on my face.

  He laughs and pushes on the door.

  “It’s absolutely fine.” He pulls his head back through to the outside.

  I believe him.

  And he even has the grace to sing to mask any noise.

  When I come back out, I can see it’s not as dark as I thought and I can still make out the cliff edge and the rolling fields down the hill. The air is earthy and charged. The wind coming off the sea, salty, and stinging at my face.

  I reach up to give him a kiss.

  “We’re really alone out here. Aren’t we?”

  “Ahah. You’re not nervous, are you?”

  “Not with you here.”

  “Are you okay while I just go in there?”

  I wince.

  “Well you can always come in with me. I’m not proud.”

  I consider his suggestion for about a second.

  “Think I’ll go wait inside the cottage. If that’s alright with you?”

  “Thought you might say that.”

  He waits until he sees me disappear into the cottage.

  It’s quiet back inside and the smell of wood burning in the fire is strong. The storm has almost passed and the trickles of rain down the window panes are slowing. I bide my time walking around the two rooms. Opening cupboards that store board games and books; blanket boxes with extra bedding; drawers with just tiny sachets of lavender in them.

  I put another log on the fire and set the tray, Kane has prepared, onto a low stool in front of it, awaiting his return.

  He comes back in and sits cross legged at the other side of the stool and I rest back against the leather seat on the winged chair at the side of the fire.

  “So how you feeling now about giving up life in Oxford?”

  “Good. I know I should have moved on years ago, but didn’t have a reason to.”

  His smiling eyes tell me I’m the reason. My stomach flips. I’ve never had such an effect on a man. Charles would never give me credit for anything positive in his life.

  “I’m pleased Kane. Really, I am, but make sure you do it for the right reason. I don’t want you turning your life upside down for…for a mistake.”

  He looks confused.

  “A mistake?”

  “We’re both going through life changing events right now and sometimes it can skew your view on stuff.”

  “Am I making a mistake?”

  “I hope not.”

  He sets aside the tray and sits on the stool, leaning my head into his chest.

  “Rosa, don’t overthink this, just go with the flow. We’re not making a commitment to each other, we’re just helping each other restore our faith in humankind and life. I do love you, you know that. But I love you for who you are, and how you make me feel, I’m not trying to trap you or make you commit to spending the rest of your life with me.”

  I’m not sure that’s what I meant but again I’m not good at expressing it. I do want to spend the rest of my life with him, but I don’t want him to feel obliged to do the same. If it’s taken him six years to come to terms with the loss of Michelle, it must surely take him longer than a few months to properly fall in love again.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Rosa

  It rains again in the middle of the night, the sound of it waking me with a start. The fire Kane had lit in the small cast iron fireplace has all but gone out. The embers barely glowing.

  I lie awake, listening to the rain and Kane’s rhythmic breaths. The duvet is bunched up between us, kicked off in the heat of our lovemaking last night. The curtains are open, of course, and as the rain clouds blow across the sky the moonlight illuminates Kane’s form, his skin radiant and smooth, calling out to be stroked. I can’t resist and trace a finger slowly up his leg and hip, gently increasing the pressure as I move along his side and up his outstretched arm.

  He stirs and rolls onto his back. The lines on his abdomen glistening in the light, rising and falling to a steady beat.

  I’m feeling bold and straddle his legs, looking down on his perfect body. His manhood is laid across his stomach and intriguingly harder than I imagined a man’s sleeping penis to be. I wonder if he’s dreaming about something, or if he is just permanently ready. Maybe it’s his age, or that it’s just not clothed in sleepwear. Whatever it is, it is calling to me. I succumb to its charms and bend over to lick it all the way along.

  He murmurs, still asleep, and I titter at my mischief. I do it again, this time lingering at the top and swirling my tongue around and around. This wins me a response, a hand in my hair, holding it away from my face.

  I’m hooked, deepening my act with daring resolve. His groans urging me on.

  It’s this place, I’m sure of it, the wildness of it has rubbed off on me. I would never have dared do something like this. Or maybe it’s Kane. Maybe his beauty is something I have never seen before. The impact on me awakens my desires and tosses aside my inhibitions.

  Whatever it is I’m going for it now and he is too. His final groan and he balls the duvet at the side of us tight in his fist, pulling me up to him and snuggling me into his side.

  I don’t remember falling asleep, but I do remember waking up. It seems as if he is returning the mischief and I’m frantically pushing myself up the bed to get away from his devilish tongue. He roughly pulls me back and makes me squeal with pleasure.

  “Stop Kane, stop. I can’t stand anymore.” I plead.

  He looks up at me.

  “Really?”

  I put my hands to his head and push him back down.

  “Of course not.” I laugh.

  Fully awake, we lie watching the clouds, before Kane offers to make coffee.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” I torment.

  “Well I had a rough night you know?”

  I look at him quizzically. “How so?”

  “I was rudely awakened in the middle of the night.”

  I throw a pillow at his firm backside. “Well it won’t happen again.”

  “I was only joking.”

  “Nope. Too late now.”

  “Are you sure?” Wiggling himself in front of my face.

  It’s strangely erotic and I can’t help but reach out and grab hold.

  “See you do like it really.”

  “Mmm. You’re right I do,” I say dreamily, “but I like coffee more.” Pushing him away with my foot.

  “I’ll remember that.” He jokes, padding away into the kitchen.

  While he makes coffee, I put on a robe and venture to the outhouse. It’s not cold or raining, but even so, it is still not a welcoming feature of this holiday home. I couldn’t bear to think what it must be like in the depths of winter.

  Kane has cleaned and stoked up a new fire when I return and is toasting crumpets on it. It’s kind of romantic and gives me a warm fuzzy feeling inside seeing him do this for us. I cuddle the coffee mug and look out over the sea. It’s not quite the vivid blue of the Mediterranean but it’s fairly blue and I suggest we go for a walk along the beach after breakfast.

  The wind has died down and the sea is calm. We scramble down an overgrown path onto the beach and walk barefooted along the shoreline, stopping at rock pools and staring into the little mini water worlds full of stranded sea creatures.

  There’s still no one around and a large smooth rock seems like a good place to sit and take in the ozone of the ebbing waves.

  “So how about it then? You and me?” I ask with slight trepidation. My attempts last night to be casual about our future didn’t hit the right mark and I’m struggling to find the words to say how I feel without coming on too strong.

  He turns to me and his eyes take on a steely gaze.

  “Rosa, I want to be really clear with you.”

  Shit. My heart skips a beat.

  “I love you.”

&nb
sp; Phew, well maybe phew. There could be a but looming here.

  “And I thought I had shown you as much.”

  Shit I’ve offended him now. I nod, trying to reaffirm that his affection hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “Let’s just cut this bullshit and try making a go of it. When you’ve sorted out your divorce let’s just take off somewhere.”

  “Yes.” I’m scared. Scared for me. But not scared for us. I don’t do stuff like this. Just take off, and I don’t think Kane does either. But maybe together we can.

  “Sure?” He holds both my hands.

  “Yes. Definitely.”

  He places his lips on mine, sealing our agreement.

  “Where to?” I ask.

  “Not sure.” He screws his face up. “Don’t forget I’m the one that’s not being anywhere outside the UK.”

  “Hmm and I’ve only been to holiday resorts. Not really seen much of any country I’ve visited and there’s been a few.”

  “So, we can go anywhere or nowhere?”

  I’ve got no idea and it seems as if he hasn’t either. It’s as if we have the ultimate choice and are blinded by it. Poppy and Sky’s recommendations seemed too out there for me and possibly Kane.

  “I’m happy to go anywhere you are.”

  He laughs. “Seems like we are pretty useless at this future stuff.”

  “Yeah.” I rest my head on his shoulder. “When I was a little girl I did have a pen-friend in Australia and she would describe how in summer it was so hot they used to have to sleep outside. I thought I would like to live somewhere as hot as that.”

  “Okay, we’re getting somewhere now. Where else did you dream about going?”

  “Anywhere hot really. And exotic. Hawaii. Africa. What about you?”

  “America, I suppose or maybe Australia. I like the idea of them speaking English and being able to drive on long open roads.”

  I sit up. “Why don’t we start with a visit to Poppy and Sky before the move to Mexico. We can then maybe do a road trip from there.”

  “Where are they again?”

  “Florida. West coast, on the Gulf of Mexico”

  “Okay, let’s do that.”

  It feels good to have a first step, something that is a little more daring than just moving in together. But something that is not too out there for a couple not quite sure of their footing in life just yet.

  I’m looking forward to going home now, tying up all the loose ends and making plans for our little adventure.

  Rosa and Kane’s adventure.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Rosa

  When we pull off the motorway and onto the road into our town, I open up my phone and start making a note of all the things we have decided we need to do to make this happen. It’s not as if we could just sit back and do nothing, the house has been sold and I am expecting to exchange contracts imminently.

  I have become an avid list writer this year and each one seems to be getting longer and longer. The desire to just pull up stakes and get on the next flight to Florida is strong, but impossible to do. And the length of this list reflects that.

  I read out each item to Kane as I type it in and he either nods or shrugs in response. He has pretty much sewn up his past life. His house rented out and providing a very nice monthly income, his possessions all gone and Belle comfortably under the table at his aunt’s. The only two items on my list that are his, are to help his uncle find a gardening assistant and to get a passport.

  Mine on the other hand are of the more serious and grown up kind. Mainly involving solicitors, financial advisors, banks and estate agents. The sooner I am done with all those professionals, the better.

  Kane is going to help me with the physical side of clearing the house, selling my lovely little car and …

  What the hell!

  My stresses of how much there is to do, to tie up all the loose ends, are blown out of the water by the sight that meets us when we turn into my driveway.

  The gates are hanging off their hinges and Charles’ car is crashed into the stone steps leading up to the front door.

  “Shit. Stay here.” Kane barks at me, leaping out of the TT and striding towards Charles’ car.

  I watch him circle the car, peering into each of the windows and then he motions to me that he is going around to the back of the house.

  My heart races, the beat thumping in my ears.

  What the hell has happened? A million thoughts are flying through my mind. What has Charles done? Where is he? Why has he done this? Is Kane going to find him?

  None of my thoughts are good.

  I can’t wait in the car. I’m worried that Charles might leap out at me, or that he might ambush Kane.

  I run around the side of the house in search of Kane, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I notice the blue light on the alarm box perched high on the side of the house is flashing, as if it has been activated. That’s not a good sign.

  I hesitantly approach the back door. The upper glass pane is smashed and there’s blood on the tiled floor inside.

  Oh God!

  I want to shout out to Kane, but I can’t find my voice. It’s like a horrific nightmare where I want to scream but can’t.

  The cellar door in the entrance hall is open.

  No. Shit no.

  I peer down it but it’s too dark to make anything out. I think I can hear a noise down there.

  “Kane.” I hiss down the steps.

  “Rosa.” A faint voice echoes back.

  My heart leaps into my mouth and I slap my hand across my mouth to stop a cry from escaping.

  No. No. No.

  This is not happening.

  Please God, this is not happening.

  A cold chill snaps through me.

  “Well if it isn’t my lovely wife. Where have you been darling? I’ve waited up for you all night.”

  I’ve frozen to the spot. The whole of my body is trembling and I swear I have never felt fear like it. I can’t see him, but he is here. Lurking right behind me.

  “Ch…Ch…Charles,” I stammer. Tears are flooding down my face.

  He touches my shoulder. I reluctantly turn to face him.

  “Darling, I’ve missed you. Why didn’t you call?” he coos.

  His eyes are completely black. A blood-soaked tea towel wrapped around his hand.

  He lifts his arms up and pulls me into his neck, the stench of foul sweat making me wretch. I sob onto his shirt, desperately pushing against his chest to free myself. But I have no strength. I am stuck in this nightmare. His nightmare.

  “What are we going to do with you?” He continues, as if he is chastising a small child.

  “Ch…Ch…Charles,” I stutter again. “Can we go and sit down.”

  I can’t think straight, but I know I need to get him away from Kane.

  He must think it is a good idea because he walks us into the kitchen and presses me down onto a chair.

  “Sit there and I’ll make us a nice cup of tea.”

  “Okay.” I weigh him up and down. He’s obviously not right, something has happened and he’s having some sort of breakdown.

  When his back is turned I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone, secreting it under the table and switching it on to silent.

  Charles turns to me. “Oh, I forgot darling. You don’t care for tea, do you?”

  “Yes, I’d rather have coffee.” I smile back. The effort of it making my jaw ache.

  “Yes, that’s right. Precious Rosa and her fucking precious coffee.”

  No. That’s not good. He’s getting angry again.

  I quickly type a text to Poppy.

  Call Police. Charles Here.

  Almost immediately my phone lights up. Poppy is ringing me. Thank God, I put it on silent and quickly turn it over to stop the flashing alerting Charles.

  I don’t know if she can call the emergency services from America, but I have no one else on to ask. No-one else who might know how urgently I need help. S
he’ll understand how serious it is. She’ll find a way. Hopefully.

  “I…I’ll have tea, if it’s easier.”

  “No.” He shakes his head violently. “No. Whatever precious Rosa wants, precious Rosa gets.”

  He is really not stable and it’s scaring the hell out of me now.

  I can hear a scrabbling sound from the entrance hall and wonder if it’s Kane making his way back up the stairs. My mind goes back to those stairs and how steep and narrow they are. If he was thrown down them, goodness knows what bones he has broken.

  Charles doesn’t seem to hear it and I blow out a calming breath to try and not make my twitching alert Charles to the sound.

  He’s now throwing beans into the coffee machine and slams down the lid before resting both hands on the work counter and hanging his head over it. I can’t work out what he is doing. Whether he is preparing himself for an attack or taking a moment to acknowledge what a stupid thing he has done.

  Then he slaps the counter with his hand, causing me to jolt and drop my phone. It smashes on the floor and skids under the table.

  “What do we have here?” He bawls.

  No.

  Every cell in my body is screaming at me to do something and as he bends over to retrieve the phone from the floor, I take hold of a heavy crystal decanter on the neighbouring display shelf and launch it at his head.

  Unlike the sculpture I threw at him before Christmas, this time I gave out no warning. It hits him right at the base of his neck and he falls forward, hitting the front of his head on a chair.

  I freeze, cowering by the side of the table. Not sure if he is properly wounded or merely stunned.

  “Bitch.” He screeches at me and turns quickly around grabbing my throat with one hand and pushing me backwards and up the side of the wall.

  I gasp repeatedly, my temples throbbing with the blood that is trapped in my head.

  I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me.

  My eyelids are fluttering.

  Then I fall to the floor.

  Air rushing back into my lungs and making me choke.

  It’s Kane.

  Thank God, it’s Kane.

  He’s grabbed hold of Charles’ shoulders and has wrenched him away from me. Now he has Charles’ head under his arm and is marching him out of the back door.