For the whole of the journey back to the cottage I stare straight ahead. Neither of us speaks. As soon as we arrive I open the door and attempt to clamber out. Fighting to stay upright on my wibbly-wobbly knees I grab at the car to steady myself. Charlie appears by my side, holding me up, leading me inside.
He guides me to the sofa and I flop gratefully onto the cushions. My whole body is starting to tremble and I feel nauseous. I watch as Charlie, like a whirlwind, begins to multi-task. Filling up the kettle and switching it on to boil. Disappearing off into his room and reappearing with his duvet which he promptly drapes over me, tucking it in beneath my legs and feet.
The kettle clicks off and he makes me a hot chocolate, placing it on the coffee table in front of the sofa but just out of my reach.
Next he heads off to the kitchen again and then returns, sitting on the edge of the coffee table and handing me a glass of water. “Here,” he says, holding out his hand to me with a small white tablet on his palm.
“What is it?”
“Gwyn gave me a few of them for you. They’re strong painkillers. Just to help you get some rest.” He holds the pill towards me again and I shake my head.
“Amber come on. It’ll help honestly. It’ll switch your mind off, help you forget for a little while so you can get some sleep.”
I look at the pill again and then at him.
“Trust me,” he says. “It’ll help.”
I don’t take the pill from his hand. I feel numb, shaky, confused.
He carefully drops the pill back into its bottle and sets it on the coffee table.
“Sorry I forgot,” he says quietly but with an edge to his voice. “You don’t trust me do you? We’ve already established that particular fact over the whole Edinburgh business.”
“You’ve not long finished your training,” he continues, his voice still low. “You know the way it works. You have no excuses. You do not just disappear off without telling people where you’re going and why when you’re working on a case. No matter what’s going on between us, if you don’t want to tell me then you call Martha or McKenna or whoever else is working on the investigation.”
“Then,” he adds, clearly getting into his stride. “You don’t find yourself in a cave with a murderer holding a knife to your throat.”
I say nothing. My mouth is dry and my throat sore and I don’t think I can find the words. What would I say anyway? He’s completely right. I shouldn’t have gone off on my own like that.
He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair and staring at the floor. “You scared the crap out of me today, Amber. Don’t ever do that to me again. If you can’t trust me as your partner you could at least trust me as your work colleague.”
“Try to get some rest,” he says as he gets to his feet and heads off to the kitchen. “I’ve got some work calls to make.”
I eye the bottle of painkillers. Right now maybe some sleep-induced oblivion sounds good after all and the painkillers can help get me there. I reach forward and attempt to open the bottle. Sugar. Stupid safety caps. My fingers feel all tingly and shaky and I can’t undo the lid. I wish I’d taken the tablet when Charlie had offered it to me now. Tears cloud my vision and I flop back against the sofa cushions. I need to stop my mind whirring. Going over and over what could have happened in that cave as well as what actually did happen.
I throw the bottle of tablets across the room in frustration and close my eyes, fighting back the tears.
“Here.”
I open my eyes to see Charlie kneeling down in front of the sofa. Unscrewing the bottle of painkillers he gestures for me to hold out a hand and drops one of the pills into it. I swallow it back along with a gulp of water from the glass Charlie holds to my lips.
“You’re far too stubborn for your own good, you know that right?” he says, screwing the top back on the bottle and getting to his feet.
I nod and settle back amongst the cushions, waiting for oblivion.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Scooping up the contents of a drawer I push the socks and underwear into my case. It’s two days after the cave incident. The police have taken all their statements. We have the all-clear to leave the island.
At least I now know Isla and Luke will be OK. The Aspall Linton payments that Martha discovered on Garrison’s account turned out to be a fund he’d set up for Isla and his son. Whilst on the one hand it seemed he didn’t have much money, it was partly because he was paying into special funds set up to protect and look after his new family. Maybe Flynn Garrison had made some hefty mistakes in his life but in the end he wasn’t completely the bad guy. I honestly think he loved Isla and Luke. He was trying to create a future for them via the sapphires he found but things took a dangerous turn when Carter Marston got involved.
Charlie and I still haven’t spoken. Well, I mean we’ve spoken but not spoken. The awkward atmosphere hangs heavily between us. Martha has been something of a buffer these past forty eight hours and now she’s leaving.
A knock at my bedroom door makes me tense up even more. It opens and Martha walks in. Behind her, in the kitchen, I can hear Charlie chatting away to Jonah.
“I’ll be heading off soon,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “A few days rest and relaxation with Jonah is just what I need right now. He’s rented this cottage right on the shore of a neighbouring island. Can’t wait.”
And I can’t quite believe what I’m hearing. This is a whole new Martha.
“Anyway, I just wanted to say I think you’ve worked well on this case. I’ll be making a good report on you and your conduct.”
I take that to mean she won’t be mentioning in her report about me disappearing off to check out the beach and the cave without informing anybody first.
“And whilst I appreciate your professionalism in terms of not moving in to Charlie’s bedroom at the cottage the gesture was entirely unnecessary. Relationships are going on all over the agency. We all know about them. Sleeping with a colleague though, well, it can lead to trouble in more ways than one.”
Martha and I are never going to be the best of friends but she’s making an effort right now and I’m grateful for that, despite the trouble she’s caused between Charlie and me.
“Speaking from personal experience?” I dump the last of my clothes in my case.
She meets my gaze and for a moment I think she’s going to freeze me out again.
So much for a truce.
“Yeah, kind of,” she surprises me by replying. “Anyway, that’s all old news. Over and done with. I ended it. Now I’m with Jonah.”
I wonder if it was Daniel Stone she was involved with at the CCIA.
“Look, I’m not one to go around advising women to apologise to the man in their life,” she says, looking uncomfortable. “But in this case I think that advice might be justified. You told Charlie you don’t trust him. You went off on your own without reporting in first. He is not a happy bunny at the moment. But you know the thing he’s most annoyed about right now, the thing clearly freaking him out, is what could have happened to you in that cave. If your friend hadn’t called Charlie in a panic and raised the alarm, well, we could have been looking at a whole different scenario and the repercussions would have spread far and wide. You two need to talk and the sooner the better. Only you can put a smile back on his face.”
I nod.
She gets to her feet. “Well, I’m off. I dare say we’ll see each other again before too long and be working on some other case together.”
I nod. “I’m sure we will.”
“I look forward to it,” she says as she heads out of the door.
There’s the banging and clattering of doors, voices raised in goodbyes as Jonah and Martha make their escape.
Then silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
We have several hours before our ferry leaves for the mainland. I’m already packed. What do I do now?
I need to face up to thi
ngs and go and talk to Charlie.
A noise behind me makes me turn. Charlie is standing in the doorway; one shoulder leant against the frame.
“I’m just about finished with the packing,” I say, turning back to my case.
“I thought we’d take a walk on the beach,” Charlie says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
Does he look awkward? Uncomfortable? It seems that way. Instantly my mind starts racing and I wonder if he has something to tell me.
Something bad.
“We have plenty of time before we need to head down to the harbour to get the ferry to the mainland,” he adds, his blue eyes staring intently at me.
I nod. “Fine. Yeah. A last trip to the beach sounds good.” Reaching for my jacket I follow him out of the cottage and towards the public footpath we walked down to the beach on earlier in the week. He doesn’t reach to hold my hand this time though, not like before.
The tide is in but there’s a good twenty feet or so of white sand we can walk along next to the crashing waves. It’s windy today again and I notice all the white tops out to sea. Getting the ferry back to the mainland is going to be a challenge with that kind of swell on the sea.
“Lorna rang me today,” he says, breaking the silence hanging between us.
Lorna is Charlie’s older sister. I’ve met her and her husband Rob a couple of times, they’re lovely people. She’s a school teacher and has that unmistakable air of authority I remember my teachers always having. Charlie’s mum has that as well and she’s a university lecturer. Come to think of it, so does Charlie. It must run in the family.
“How’s Lorna doing?” I ask. “Is she OK?”
“Better than OK,” he replies. “She’s pregnant and very happy about it. The baby is due in just under six months.”
“That’s brilliant news! I’ll have to give her a call and congratulate them both.” I glance across at him. “So, Uncle Charlie, eh? How do you feel about having a niece or nephew soon?”
He meets my gaze and smiles. “I think I like the idea. It’ll be fun.” Turning back to look at the horizon he adds, “Makes me feel older somehow though, more grown up.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
He shrugs. “Yes and no.”
“Charlie, with what you do for a living, you’re already grown up, whether you want to admit it or not. I wouldn’t say you’ve opted for an irresponsible, fun lifestyle. You have a dangerous job. You’re not exactly backpacking around the world getting drunk every night.”
“True enough.” He sighs. “But sometimes a part of me wishes I still was that kid backpacking round the world and getting drunk every night.”
I look at him. Strong, handsome, brave Charlie. “I thought you loved your work.”
“I do, mostly, but sometimes…”
I know what he means. I love my new job, being with Charlie, the excitement and challenge of it all. Some days though I miss my old life. Before, working at the pub and the local paper, I knew I could cope with things. I knew who I was. Lately I’m not sure who I am or what I’m doing. It’s a whole scary new world and I’m trying to find my way in it.
Silence falls again.
We reach a bit of a headland where piles of hefty boulders are clumped together stretching out onto the beach. Charlie climbs up to the top of them then holds out a hand to help me up. A seagull screeches overhead and hovers nearby, probably hoping we have some bread or something to feed it.
I perch on the edge of a rock near to Charlie but with our bodies not touching. For a few moments we don’t say a word. The only sounds are the waves, the wind and the seagull.
“Martha told me to cut you some slack,” he says, not looking at me. “She said you played by the rules inside the cave. You followed hostage procedures. Engaged him in conversation. Stayed calm. Did you use some of the combat stuff you were taught?”
“Yeah, it didn’t quite work out though,” I reply carefully.
He nods. “We’ll work on that. Once you’re feeling better I’ll set up a daily self-defence routine we can work on together for you. Those cuts on his face – you did them?”
“Yes. With my car keys.”
“Good thinking.” He nods approvingly.
Silence.
“What’s going on, Amber?” he asks quietly.
Next to me Charlie is rubbing a hand across his light stubble. He looks tired. Fed up.
I still haven’t decided whether or not I should mention the whole Charlie sharing a room with Martha in Edinburgh incident. One minute I tell myself it was all innocent and bringing it up will just annoy and irritate Charlie because it shows I didn’t trust him. Another minute I’m gripped with fear and nausea at the fact he’s keeping secrets and that he might be doing so because something did actually happen between them in Edinburgh.
Charlie reaches for my arm and turns me to face him. His eyes are full of confusion.
Maybe the time has come to say what, deep down, I know I need to.
I meet his intense gaze. “I know.”
A frown creases his features. “You know about what?”
I chew anxiously on my bottom lip.
“I know about you and Martha in Edinburgh.”
Again with the frown.
“What about me and Martha in Edinburgh?”
“The room. Martha told me. You only booked one hotel room when you had to stay over because of the storm.”
He holds my gaze. “And?”
I push to my feet and attempt to scramble down the rocks without breaking an ankle. As I reach the sand Charlie is next to me in a second, gripping my arm.
“You seriously still think I slept with Martha?” he grinds out, leaning in close. “Is that what this is about?”
I don’t know what I think. Charlie looks mad.
Really mad.
“If you didn’t then why didn’t you just tell me you shared a room with her? If you’ve nothing to hide then why keep it a secret?” I blurt out, finding my voice in the face of Charlie’s angry glare.
He loosens his grip on my arm and heaves a sigh of frustration. “To avoid this,” he says. “Because I thought you’d freak out.”
I yank my arm away from him. “Of course I’d freak out! Can you blame me?”
“Yes,” he surprises me by saying. “Yes, I can blame you, Amber.”
“What? You’re going to turn this around and try to say it’s all my fault?” I gasp. The wind is getting rougher and it whips my hair into my eyes, stinging at my face. “Don’t try to push the blame for this on to me, Charlie Huxton! What, I’m not supposed to care that the man I love is sharing a hotel room with another woman?”
Crap.
Did I really just say that? In the heat of the moment, I said I loved him. I’ve never told him that before. I’ve wanted to but I wasn’t sure if it was too soon. I didn’t want to scare him off.
And now I’ve gone and shouted that I love him in the middle of a row.
Brilliant. Just brilliant.
I hardly dare look at him for fear of what I might see in his eyes.
Have I just completely blown our relationship?
“We’re both at fault,” he says in a calmer voice now, staring out to sea. “Me for chickening out and not telling you about it. The hotel was chock-a-block because of the bad weather. The storm wasn’t just going on up here. It was pretty bad down along the Central Belt of Scotland too. Road bridges were shut because of the strong winds. The hotels were all busy with people having to make unscheduled stopovers. We phoned several hotels and they were all full. That place we stayed only had one room left. We took the room together, yes, but the only reason we did was because we both knew there was zero chance of anything happening between us. I slept on the sofa bed. She took the proper bed.”
He stands, hands in pockets, looking dejected. “I’m sorry. I should have told you but you were freaked about the way Martha had been flirting with me here at the cottage already so I thought you’d lose it
completely if you knew we’d shared a room.”
“Nothing happened?” I say, seeking his confirmation of the fact.
“Nothing happened,” he repeats. “I swear.”
I’m acutely aware that he has completely ignored my declaration of love. Is that because he doesn’t feel the same way about me or because he’s being typical Charlie, a man who doesn’t find it easy to talk about his feelings? Showing his feelings with a kiss, a hug, the physical stuff, yeah, he can more than handle that side of things. He can even deal with showing support for my new career with the agency and comfort for life’s everyday little knocks and upsets. Love. Talking about love and his emotions - that’s a whole different kettle of fish.
Now I feel mad about the secret and about Martha, as well as feeling mad that he didn’t just turn around and say I love you right back to me. Swirls of emotions are making me feel light-headed. I move back to sit on the edge of the rocks and Charlie comes and sits next to me.
Silence hangs between us once more.
The seagull is back, this time he or she has bought along a friend. They hover nearby, still hoping for food.
Eventually Charlie speaks. “I hate that you don’t trust me.”
“I know you do,” I reply, my throat tight.
“I want you to trust me. Need you to.”
I nod but don’t say anything.
“These past few months whilst you were off doing your agency training and I was working on cases all over the place, whilst we were apart, I could have been getting up to anything, with anyone.” He throws a glance at me before continuing, “But I wasn’t. I’m not that guy. Equally, you could have been getting up to stuff, plenty of opportunity, but I trust you. I trust that you weren’t cheating on me.”
I think back to the past months and my intensive preparation to start working with the CCIA. “You’re joking right? During agency training I didn’t have the energy for anything by the end of the day,” I say, attempting to lighten the atmosphere between us.
“How can we make this right?” he asks, his gaze far out to sea where a fishing boat is bobbing on the waves. “I can get former girlfriends to provide you with references on my good behaviour if you want.”
Amber Reed Mysteries Volume One: Romantic Comedy Mystery Series Box Set (Amber Reed Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency Mystery Box Set Book 1) Page 49