by Amanda James
Nathan nods again. ‘Please, Bryony … let’s go together. I’ll go to Spain if you like, it doesn’t have to be France …’ He stops, draws his hands down his face, then pushes them through his hair. ‘I can see that you think I’ve gone nuts … perhaps I have. But I can’t leave here without saying my bit.’
‘Nathan, I don’t think this is a good idea—’
‘Please. I need you to listen. That night in the garden at your mum’s there was a spark between us. I told you that Imogen was right when she guessed how I felt, and I know you felt something for me too.’
I don’t like this turn in the conversation. I don’t like the way he’s making me feel either. The more he looks earnestly into my eyes, the more I feel my heart shift towards him. The way it shifted before I knew he’d been sent to kill me … and now the feelings I buried almost as soon as they surfaced are threatening to break free. This stops now.
‘Nathan. There might have been something at the time, but then I found you’d lied to me, that you’d lied about your name, who you were, and you’d been sent to bloody kill me. That kind of information tends to change the way a person feels.’
My words do not have the kind of effect I’d hoped for. ‘I knew there was something on your part that night,’ he says through an ear-to-ear smile.
‘Perhaps you didn’t hear the rest of what I said.’ I set my mouth into a straight line even though it’s trying to copy his smile.
‘I did. But I know you’re warming towards me. You can see I’m doing the right thing now. Putting all that behind me.’ He stands up and walks over to me, but I stand and move back from the bed. The air between us feels charged. My heart is thumping and I can’t tear my gaze away from his.
When my back comes up against the wall I tell myself to snap out of it. I look at the floor and put both hands up in a stop gesture. ‘This stops now, Nathan. It’s just not going to happen.’
He’s only a few feet from me and then he closes the gap, lifts my chin with his finger until I’m looking into those intense green eyes – they draw me in. I watch his mouth as it comes down to mine, hear him whisper, ‘Please let it happen.’ Then he kisses me and though part of me thinks it’s completely nuts, I reach up, put my arms around his neck, and kiss him back.
24
Nathan stretches out in bed enjoying the feel of the cotton sheets against his nakedness, and listens to Bryony humming in the shower. Things like this never happen to him. He never gets a happy ending, never gets the girl. Well, not the one he wants, and he’s never wanted a girl as much as he wants Bryony Masters. Just saying her name in his head makes him smile. A worrying little thought tries to rain on his parade. Early days yet, Nathan. You’ve not talked about the future at all, have you? No. They had been far too busy in bed over the past two hours. Thinking about that makes him smile too. He puts an umbrella up against the rain. Bryony wouldn’t sleep with him as a one-off. He’s sure they have a future … Okay, he’s not, but he’ll do everything he can to make sure that …
The door is open and she’s standing there with just a white fluffy towel wrapped around her. Her hair is damp and she’s raking it through with her fingers as she looks at him. That look says she might want to come back to bed. Nathan gives her a slow smile, throws the covers back and pats her side of the bed. ‘Fancy a lie down?’
She gives him a smile that lights up her face. ‘There’s nothing I’d like more. But I have lots to organise. The longer I stay here, the more likely it is I’ll be found.’ Bryony lets the towel slip and pulls on underwear.
Nathan watches her as the little worrying thought brings its mates round and clears a big space in his head. She said I, not we. ‘I have lots to organise. The longer I stay here …’ If she wanted to go abroad with you she’d have said ‘we’, wouldn’t she?
Bryony pulls her top on and flash dries her hair. Then she turns to him. ‘What’s with the face?’
‘The face?’
‘You know what I mean. Your face.’ She pulls a glum expression to illustrate.
Nathan shrugs. ‘Just wondered where that leaves me.’
‘Where what does? Stop being so enigmatic, it doesn’t suit you.’ She laughs and comes to sit next to him on the bed.
‘Just now, you said I, not we, when you were talking about leaving, getting stuff organised.’
The smile on her lips fades. ‘That’s just force of habit. I’m not usually part of a pair – or haven’t been for some time. It’s not something I’m great at.’
What does that mean? Nathan sits up and he notices her eyes run over his chest; she follows her gaze with her fingers. ‘You have a very firm body, Nathan. Do you swim?’
‘No. I run.’ He moves away slightly, he can’t afford to get distracted before he gets answers. ‘I’m not used to being part of a pair either, but I thought we were aiming for that.’
Bryony sighs. ‘Yes, I’d like to … but I’m not sure plunging headlong into living together abroad is taking things as slowly as I’d like at the beginning of a relationship.’
‘It’s not ideal, I’ll grant you. But I can’t see as we have a lot of choice.’ He takes her hand and kisses the back of it.
‘I … we, do have to get away from here pretty sharpish, but a new country, new life, and a new relationship might put too much stress on us.’ She looks into Nathan’s eyes and he can tell she’s unsure. ‘So in the shower I wondered if we should stay in the UK. I thought somewhere remote like the wilds of Cornwall. I remember going to Sennen near Land’s End years ago, St Just too, and there’s quite a few little hamlets round there that might be just right.’
Nathan’s spirits are rising now he’s been included in her plans, but staying in England would pose problems. ‘Bryony, I have to make a living. Opportunities there will be pretty small compared to abroad.’
‘In summer you should find something. The tourist season is pretty much upon us. Though if not, I have substantial savings that could see us both through the next year at the very least. I’ll sell my flat too, and that will give us …’
‘I can’t live off you,’ Nathan says quietly.
‘And hopefully you won’t have to. As I said I’m sure there’ll be something.’
Nathan sighs but says nothing. This isn’t what he’d hoped for. But he’d never have dreamed that she’d say yes to him in the first place so he’d have to compromise. ‘Okay. We’ll go for that. It does mean we might be easier to find though.’
Bryony laughs and shoves him back on the pillows. ‘Those dozy bastards couldn’t find us there. Besides, they won’t be looking in the UK. Immi will have told her dad by now that I’ve gone abroad. You told Dawson that my mum’s neighbour said I’d gone abroad, didn’t you?’ He nods. ‘And you told your family to say you phoned them and said you’d taken care of your mum, but you were out of the country too. So if they look anywhere, it won’t be here.’
‘Ransom doesn’t trust Immi though. Dawson said he thought she was disloyal, wanting to save your skin by pretending to sort out an appeal, remember?’
Bryony’s eyes take on a faraway look and she flops down on the bed beside him. ‘Yes … that needs some thought. Before we leave, we should go see her. Tell her that she should be on her guard.’
‘And what if we’re seen?’
‘I’ve never been to her house before, because of that reason. So they won’t be expecting it now. We’ll go late at night … or very early morning.’
‘Why not over the phone?’
‘They might have her phone bugged. It’s been known. She got a new one when we were in Cornwall because of it, but we can’t be too careful.’
Nathan thinks that’s pushing things too far, but he’ll go with it. ‘Okay. So when will you be ready, you know, get your affairs in order? I’m good to go now.’
Bryony pulls back the covers and looks him slowly up and down. Under her gaze he feels himself getting hard. She traces a finger down his lower chest and to his groin. ‘I can see you�
�re good to go …’
Nathan pulls her on top of him. ‘I think we need to discuss this further.’
It’s two in the morning the day after I lost my head. I say lost my head, but what actually happened was that my heart overruled it big time. My heart, and one or two other bits of my anatomy. Nathan … well, getting together with him, it’s the biggest shock of my life. This is just not like me. I don’t do this. Not. Ever. Turns out the new me does. I just hope I don’t live to regret it. I worry that it won’t last – we won’t last. Whatever we have will melt like April snow under the heat of my control freakery. Or just the crazy way we got together might not allow it to thrive. But then if we don’t try, we’ll never know, will we?
A new hire car is packed with all our stuff out in the hotel car park, the little cottage near St Just is rented, and Nathan and I will be ready to surprise Immi in a while before we drive down south. It will be a hell of a surprise. I hope she won’t be too shocked when I arrive at her bedroom door. Nathan assures me he can get us in without hanging on the doorbell, and I haven’t asked any obvious questions about that. The whole thing is mad but exciting at the same time. I can’t remember the last time I felt so alive. Wish I could tell Mum, but of course I can’t. I wouldn’t be telling Immi if I could help it.
The bright hope that one day everything will be normal lights my way through the shadowy maze of my immediate future. It’s shadowy because there’s a chance Ransom’s lot could find us. A remote chance, but a chance nonetheless. It wouldn’t do to be complacent. Complacent gets you killed. My future is a bit like an old but much-loved Christmas decoration that you thought was lost. When it’s rediscovered, it brings joy, warmth and sparkle into your life. Until now, I never thought I’d find it again.
Three in the morning and we’re in the car at the end of Immi’s street. Nathan said earlier that it feels a bit too cloak and dagger, but we can’t be too careful. A few minutes later we’re outside her back door and I keep watch as Nathan slips something from his jeans pocket and pokes it in the lock. No lights are on anywhere in the tiny cul-de-sac of new houses and, in the yet-to-be established garden, only a quick fox clocks us as he slinks under the fence. I turn back to Nathan and find that he’s already inside and beckoning me to follow.
A little hall table lamp shows us that the inside is clean, fresh and very Immi. The first door off the hall is the living room, and when we get to the kitchen I notice the patio doors aren’t covered by the curtains. Immi really needs to get into the habit of closing them each night. Anyone could be nosing round. I hurry over, close them, then flick the light on over the cooker. ‘Okay, you put the kettle on and I’ll wake her,’ I say to Nathan and pull a face. ‘I hope she’s not too scared.’
He shrugs. ‘Well, I did tell you this is all a bit—’
‘Cloak and dagger. Yes. Shut your face and make the tea.’
All the doors on the landing are closed. The first is the bathroom, the second the spare room, so the last one must be Immi’s. Bloody hell, I hope she’s not staying over … perhaps with the new doctor that she’s ‘really not interested in’. My fingers curl round the handle and I slowly apply pressure and give the door a gentle push. The carpet puts up a little resistance, but then it opens, and I’m in. The light flicks on and I’m looking into the barrel of a gun … oh my God.
Immi shrieks and throws the gun on the bed. ‘What the FUCK are you doing? I could have shot you!’
My heart’s in my throat preventing speech, so I just lean against the door and gather my wits. She shakes her head, a look of disbelief on her face. She’s in pink fairy pyjamas and her hair resembles a bird’s nest. A bird’s nest stuffed with spaghetti. If the situation weren’t so surreal I’d laugh. ‘Bloody hell, Immi, I didn’t expect that,’ I manage after a few seconds.
‘You didn’t expect? What about me?’ Immi slumps on the bed and begins to babble. ‘I just got up for a wee and then I heard the kettle go on in the kitchen and people talking. Thought I was drunk at first, but then I remembered I’d only had one glass of red. And what kind of burglar puts the kettle on anyway?’
‘I’m sorry to scare you, love, but I couldn’t think of another way of contacting you—’
‘No. Because you’ve never heard of a phone, have you?’
‘The thing is we can’t be too careful. I said that before we came back from Cornwall. What I have to tell you is best done face to face.’ I fold my arms and nod at the gun. ‘And since when did you become bloody Annie Oakley?’
She rolls her eyes. ‘Since yesterday when Dawson brought it round. He said that one of his former employees had just gone missing and he has a grudge against my dad. He said it was probably a long shot, “no pun intended”, but Dad would be happier if I had some protection.’
The facts that Immi probably has no idea how to shoot, that it’s certainly an illegal weapon, and that she’d be in serious trouble if it was found here flash through my mind, but this isn’t the time to mention it. Instead I say, ‘Ah. Well, there’s no need at all to worry about the former employee because he’s here with me. He’s making the tea actually.’
Now she’s really confused and she ruffles the bird’s nest even more than her pillows have. ‘What the hell are you on about? Who is this former employee?’
‘Jacob.’
Her eyes grow round. ‘Jacob, Jacob?’
‘Yes.’
‘The Jacob you rescued. The hot one?’
‘Yes. How many Jacobs do we know? Actually he’s really called Nathan.’
Immi shakes her head in bewilderment and flops back onto her bed. ‘Wake me up when you start making any sense at all.’
I laugh. ‘Come downstairs with me and I’ll explain.’
Immi has declined a second cup of tea and says she wants brandy for shock. I explain that it’s only 4.15am and she replies, ‘It doesn’t bloody matter what time it is. It’s not every day you learn that your father is capable of murder, and that the one he sent to do his dirty work is sitting at the kitchen fucking table, drinking fucking tea!’ Nathan and I have explained why we’re here and everything that’s happened since we saw Immi last. The only thing we’ve not broached is our intention to make a go of things together. I swallow the last dregs of cold tea and prepare to do just that when she bangs her cup down and heads me off.
‘I’ve a good mind to go into that next prison visit and cut his bollocks off! I mean, I knew he was a vicious, cheating, swindling, scum of the earth – but murderer? I honestly thought he’d not stoop so low. And one of the worst things is that he has no proof it was you that made that phone call in the first place!’
‘You said it wasn’t you?’ Nathan says to me.
‘It wasn’t her. It was me!’ Immi says, sticking out her chin at Nathan.
He raises his eyebrows. ‘You?’
‘Yes. Me. Him using those poor girls like that was the last straw. And how could you agree to kill someone in cold blood?’ Immi jabs him hard in the chest with her finger. ‘No matter how tough you’ve had it, growing up in a life of crime, or my shit of a father kidnapping your mum, there’s no excuse.’
Nathan gives her a sad smile. ‘I know. I never would have gone through with it even if Bryony hadn’t saved me. It’s not in me.’
‘Yeah, well, you would say that now.’
I get that Immi’s in shock and hurting, but she’s being unfair. ‘Hang on, Immi. Nathan came clean to me. If he was going to kill me, why would he have done that?’ Immi just glowers, then looks into her empty cup. ‘Try to put yourself in his shoes. If your mum had been kidnapped when she was ill, how do you know that you wouldn’t have done the same if you were put in that position?’
Immi is silent for a few more moments then gets up, pulls a bottle of brandy from the cupboard and pours a slug into the cup. Then she stands with her back against the kitchen cupboard, takes a sip and looks at us. ‘You might have a point, but I could never have done it.’
‘Nor could I,’ Nathan
says quietly.
‘Why are you here exactly?’ Immi narrows her eyes. ‘It isn’t just to tell me this. We could have met somewhere secret like we’ve done before. Why are you here in the middle of the night?’
‘Two reasons.’ I sit back and swallow hard. ‘One is to make sure that you realise your dad doesn’t trust you now. As I said earlier, he told Dawson that he knew you were bluffing about sorting an appeal to make sure he didn’t come after me.’
‘Well, yeah. That’s obvious, given that he’s sitting there,’ she says, looking at Nathan as if he’s dirt on her shoe.
‘But I think it might be more serious than that. If he suspects you’re against him then he might want revenge somehow,’ I say, hoping I’m getting through. It can’t be easy to hear that your parent might wilfully harm you.
‘And as I said earlier, I’m his daughter.’
‘Even so …’
‘No. I’m the only thing he cares about.’ She gives a humourless bark. ‘Well, after himself of course. He’s always come at the top of his own list.’
‘You’re right there,’ Nathan says.
‘And the second reason?’ Immi asks. Nathan and I share a look and she sighs. ‘You two.’ She points at us back and forth. ‘You’re not sodding at it, are you?’
My cheeks colour. ‘A nice way of putting it.’
Immi’s eyes widen and she ruffles her hair through as if she’s trying to wake her brain up. ‘My God. You are! You bloody are … even after you found out about him? Shit. You must have it bad!’
What do I say to that? Nathan looks at me and I notice that his face is aflame too. We must look like naughty children who’ve been caught with their fingers in the cookie jar. ‘You were the one was pushing us together when we were in Cornwall,’ I remind her, while knowing it’s a lame thing to say.