by Lisa Hobman
He kissed the top of her head. ‘Well, you let me know if someone needs sortin’, okay?’
She adored her dad and the way he wanted to protect her. But he was the least violent person she knew, in spite of his assertions to the contrary. Once she had kissed her parents and brothers and said her goodbyes with a promise to come for Sunday lunch, she climbed into Shelley’s car.
‘Come on. Spill it, Zee. Something’s up. You’re different.’ Shelley had always been perceptive so there was no point in making things up.
Zara shrugged. ‘I think the trip just affected me more than I expected.’
Marco twisted in his seat. ‘In what way? Was it that bad? What about the farmer you stayed with? Was he an ugly munter?’ He bombarded her with questions as if he was interrogating her.
Shelley huffed. ‘Bloody hell, Marco, let the girl answer… But anyway, Zee, what he said.’
Zara couldn’t help giggling at the familiar banter between her two friends. ‘He was a crofter.’ She smiled as she remembered Lachy correcting her. ‘And it wasn’t bad at all. In fact… it was quite… awesome.’
A stunned silence fell in the car. Her friends were clearly gobsmacked – which was a first. ‘So you enjoyed getting a sore arse and being eaten alive by midges?’
She laughed again. ‘I didn’t actually get bitten much. Josh had recommended some really good repellent so—’
‘Oh, God, speaking of Josh. I was shocked when he came round looking for you. I told him you were going to be delayed because you’d been in an accident, which seemed to spur him on more. I still can’t believe he booked that posh hotel and came up there though. He seems to want you back really badly, Zee.’ Marco cringed as he told her.
Zara sighed. ‘Hmm. He said as much. He told me he loves me.’
‘What?’ her friends yelled in unison.
‘I know. All that time I waited for him to say the three little words and he waits until after he’s bloody cheated.’
‘Well, I hope you told him to take a running jump onto the Jubilee Line,’ Marco huffed.
‘Did he seem sincere, Zee?’ Shelley asked.
Zara rested her head back. ‘He seemed to be. But he hurt me so much and I won’t play second fiddle to his ex.’
Marco grabbed her hand. ‘Damn right you won’t. You deserve someone who puts you first. Doesn’t she, Shelley?’
‘Bloody right she does,’ Shelley concurred from the front.
They arrived back at Zara’s home and her friends helped her inside with her minimal luggage. Jake arrived just as they were pouring wine and Marco got a few big bags of crisps from the kitchen. They all sat round the living room in their usual spots.
Zara glanced round the place. It was so strange to be back. It wasn’t even that she had been away for a long time. In fact, she hadn’t felt this strange when she had been away longer and further afield. Shelley was right. Something had changed in her.
Shelley snuggled up to Jake on the sofa as she asked, ‘So, this guy who took you in after your near-death experience. What was he like?’
Zara envied Jake and Shelley’s relationship. It was so natural. Effortless but in a good way. There was no pretence. Both could just be utterly themselves and the other loved them in spite of and because of that fact.
Zara smiled. ‘His name was Lachlan. Lachy for short. He was sweet and kind. He made me laugh too. It was really good of him to take me in, considering the first time he met me I was uber nosey about his circumstances and the second I was illegally camped on his land.’
Marco sat up straight. ‘You met him twice before the accident?’
‘Yes. The accident was the third time I met him. He was wearing a kilt too, Marco. You’d have loved that.’
Marco placed a hand over his heart. ‘Did he have thick calves?’
Zara laughed and nodded and Marco pretended to pass out, and then from his reclined position on the floor he said, ‘Is he gay, by any chance? Oh, please tell me he’s gay and you got photos.’
At that point Zara’s cheeks flamed and she tried to turn away and feign interest in something else. ‘Was there much mail whilst I was away?’
Shelley leaned forward. ‘Hang on a minute. You didn’t answer Marco’s question and why are you glowing like a beacon?’
Ugh, perceptive as always. ‘He’s not gay. There. Now you know,’ Zara huffed.
Marco sat upright again. ‘And how, pray tell, do you know that for a fact? Married to a woman, was he?’ he asked with a tilt of his head.
‘No. He wasn’t married. If he was…’ She decided to own her decision and straightened her spine. ‘If he was married or with someone I wouldn’t have slept with him.’
There was a sharp intake of breath so loud that Zara expected the room to implode. She waited for the fallout.
‘So that’s why you were so upset to be home. You really like him, don’t you?’ Shelley’s voice was soft and filled with concern.
Zara smiled but her eyes began to sting as she nodded. Talking about Lachy made her realise just how much she missed him and, what was worse, that it was unlikely that she’d ever see him again. It wasn’t as if she would bump into him on the high street. And she wouldn’t be going to Scotland again any time soon.
Shelley and Marco leapt from their places and hugged her. She was sure it was just tiredness and that she would feel better after sleeping in her own bed, but she let the tears flow and allowed her friends to do what they did best.
‘Did he feel the same about you?’ Marco asked.
Zara shrugged. ‘Honestly, I don’t know. I think it was maybe just a one-night thing. No strings attached. That’s what I intended, anyway. I didn’t want to feel anything. I just wanted to feel sexy and desirable. And he really made me feel all those things. But then it was over. And now… I don’t know how I feel apart from sad and miserable. But why do I feel like this, for goodness’ sake? I hardly know the man. And we didn’t exactly get off to the best start. And I don’t want to have a stupid long-distance relationship. But all I can think about is his smile and how good he was to me. How he made me feel. And his little house and Bess the dog.’ She sobbed and her body shook even though she knew how crazy she must sound and look. She’d been with Josh for a year and hadn’t cried so much when he’d cheated on her as she had over the man she knew even less and a place she’d never wanted to visit in the first place.
Once she had calmed down she wiped her face on the mountain of tissues that Jake had awkwardly passed over to her and she laughed. ‘You know how there’s jet lag? Is there such a thing as train lag? Or bike lag? Because I’m telling you right now, it exists. It should be acknowledged because it’s the only possible reason for me feeling this way. And that’s what I’m putting all this down to. This temporary lapse in sanity is simply bike lag.’
‘Oh, well, that’s easy! I know the cure for bike lag!’ Marco chimed in.
Shelley rolled her eyes but grinned. ‘This should be good.’
Marco disappeared into the kitchen and returned moments later with a massive box of chocolates and another bottle of wine. ‘Tadaaaaa!’
29
Noah was overly gushy about her article when she presented it to him. ‘Zara, this is sheer brilliance. You’ve not only captured the setting but the people. I can picture everything from the colour of the skies to the sound of the water lapping at the sand on the beaches. Just… amazing.’
Okay, Noah, calm yourself there. A bit over the top, aren’t we? She smiled as he continued.
‘You’ve really encapsulated the Highlands. If this doesn’t sell thousands of magazines, then I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with the world.’ He leaned in conspiratorially. ‘I’d go so far as to say it’s better than anything Dillon ever produced for the magazine. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he was a good writer, but this… You’ve really captured the human aspect of the trip too. Your difficulties will be the reader’s difficulties.’
She smiled and thanked him but in
wardly rolled her eyes and screamed Pah! at him. His enthusiasm felt incredibly contrived and she seriously doubted that she had produced anything like the type of article Dillon would have, but she had given it her best shot.
‘And don’t even get me started on the images. I mean, to say they were taken on a phone is just… incredible! Look at the colours. The depth of field. You really have excelled yourself, Zara. And I’m not just saying that.’ Yeah, you probably are, but go ahead and polish my ego a little more; I’ll let you after what you made me do.
To be fair to Noah, the photos had reproduced well and she decided to leave it up to him to select which ones accompanied the piece. In truth she didn’t want to look back and be reminded of what she had left behind.
‘Right, Miss Bailey, I think you deserve to take the rest of this week off.’ One and a half days? Gee, thanks, boss. ‘Go and relax. The hard work is done and you should be proud of what you’ve achieved. You’ve overcome your fears and doubts and have produced such a wonderful piece. I’m so very proud of you.’ Ugh, pass me a bucket.
She plastered on an expression of what she hoped appeared to be gratitude and not nausea. ‘Thank you, Noah. I have a high-school reunion to attend at the weekend so I should really shop for something to wear, I suppose.’
‘Well, you’ll certainly have lots of wonderful stories to share now. These things are always pissing contests, in my experience. Who earns the most, who’s the most successful, which couples actually stood the test of time.’ He shivered. ‘As much as I hate them, it really is a good way of getting one up on those who doubted we would ever amount to much, eh? I wouldn’t think that there’ll be anyone in that room quite so able to wow people as you, Zara.’
‘Hmm. We’ll see. See you Monday.’
She left the office and took the Tube into the city. People rushed all round her, heads down, no eye contact. She was jostled by ignorant civilians too hell-bent on continuing their conversations on mobile phones to be courteous enough to lower their elbows for a split second. By the time she reached her favourite shopping centre she was annoyed, sweaty and exhausted.
Instead of shopping she grabbed a take-out coffee from a concession stand and hopped on a train at the closest Tube station to head home. She hadn’t the energy for shopping any more. Surely there must be something in my wardrobe that will suffice? It’s one bloody evening, for goodness’ sake.
As she sat on the Tube her phone rang. It was her mum. ‘Hi, sweetie, how are you settling in back at home?’
Zara laughed. ‘Mum, I was only away a matter of days, remember? I’m fine. Home is home.’
‘Oh, yes, darling, I know, but it only takes a few days to change a person forever.’ Her words were strangely insightful.
‘True. But I’m fine, Mum. Honest. It’s good to be home.’
‘And you’re definitely coming for lunch on Sunday, aren’t you? It’ll be so special.’
‘I’ll be there, Mum. I can’t wait.’
‘Great. Right, darling, I have to go. I’m helping Mrs Murton build a flat-pack bookcase. It’ll be like the blind literally leading the blind, bless her.’ Mrs Murton was their long-suffering neighbour who had put up with many years of footballs appearing in her garden, stereos being played too loudly and shouting matches between siblings. Now she was in her eighties her sight wasn’t what it was and the Baileys had adopted her as a kind of grandmother figure.
‘Sounds like fun. Watch out for your toes,’ Zara told her with a laugh, remembering back to when they’d helped Mrs Murton move her bed into the living room and the result had been a broken toe for her mum.
‘I think I’ll borrow your brother’s steel-toe-capped boots! Bye, love!’
*
Marco cooked his delicious pappardelle al salmone for dinner on Thursday evening and whilst he was at work on Friday Zara spent the time reading through her novel and remembering Lachy’s reaction to her prose. Maybe he was right and she should actually submit it somewhere and see what happened? She spent a couple of hours preparing a submission letter to go with her manuscript. She still wasn’t sure she would be brave enough to submit it, but it felt good to know that the book was complete and that she had achieved something pretty fantastic all for herself.
She could now visualise the jacket of the novel too. An image of a rugged setting much like the places she had visited in the Highlands, with the heroine of the story standing alone and gazing longingly off into the distance. How wonderful it would be to realise that dream. For some reason, since her return from the North Coast 500 trip Zara’s passion for writing had increased tenfold. Many more story ideas had manifested themselves and she now had notes scribbled on every possible blank page she came across. It was as if someone had released a dam in her mind and the words were a deluge that had to escape. Her heart raced as she typed, her fingers struggling to keep up.
She kept the keyring Lachy had given her close by and smiled every time she caught sight of it in her peripheral vision. More ideas flowed. A story of a man and woman who met for a brief moment in time but shared something beautiful that they would cling to forever.
A knock on the door snapped her from her writing frenzy and she hoped to goodness it wasn’t anyone important. Her hair was tied in a messy bun and she wore yoga pants and a scruffy old Kiss T-shirt that used to belong to her dad.
She pulled open the door to see a huge bouquet of flowers hiding the face of the delivery man.
Josh peeped out from behind the colourful spray. ‘Hi, gorgeous.’
‘Josh? You didn’t message to say you were coming.’ She folded her arms across her braless chest.
‘You look as beautiful as ever, don’t worry. I wasn’t even sure you’d be in but seeing as I have the day off, I thought I’d chance it. I brought coffee from your favourite place too. Caramel Machiatto.’ He held out a tray with two large, lidded paper cups.
‘You’d better come in.’
He followed her into the living room and sat down. ‘Here, take this and put them in some water eh?’ he instructed. ‘What have you been up to?’
She took the flowers and walked over to the kitchen. ‘Oh, nothing much. A bit of writing.’
‘So did you finally finish your novel?’
‘Yes, yes, I did. Turns out the Highlands were quite inspirational.’
‘Is this it open on your laptop?’ he asked as he crossed to the dining table.
She walked over and closed the lid so he couldn’t pry. ‘Yes. Look, I’m going to go and change my top,’ she told him. ‘I won’t be a minute.’ Once inside the safety of her room she rested her head back against the door. There had been a time that having him in her apartment meant steamy sex, butterflies and passion; but now she wasn’t sure how she felt. She slipped on her bra and a clean, newer T-shirt and walked back through to where he sat sipping his coffee.
‘Why are you here, Josh?’
‘I wanted to see you. To see if you’d had any more thoughts about us.’
She heaved a sigh. ‘You said you’d give me space.’
He nodded and cringed. ‘I did say that, didn’t I? Shit. Zara, I’m sorry. But I miss you. So, so much. I want to be able to hold you and kiss you again. If you’d just let me—’
She held up her hands. ‘Look, the flowers are beautiful. And I appreciate the coffee, but I need time to think. And I need to not see you whilst I’m doing that. You blur the edges, Josh. You confuse me.’
He stood and walked to stand only inches in front of her. ‘I understand. I really do.’ He slipped his hand into her hair. ‘And I wish I could turn back the clock and undo what I did. But please know that I would do anything to change things. Anything.’ He lowered his face and brushed his lips against hers; that familiar feeling of him washing over her as she closed her eyes and let the kiss happen.
Suddenly he stopped and pulled away. ‘Sorry. God, I’m an idiot. I’ll go. And I’ll be waiting, Zara. You can count on that.’
He walked away and out of the
apartment, leaving her standing there feeling even more confused than ever. Alone with space to think again, Zara sat back at the laptop and began to type.
*
On his return from work Marco brought coffee and snacks. He even brought dinner to her from the kitchen. He knew better than to read over her shoulder. Instead he sustained her energy by providing the things she was unwilling to break off for. It was exhilarating.
She felt free and she felt fine.
That night Marco played ‘Delilah’ by Florence and the Machine on his phone with the little portable speaker plugged in and they danced round the apartment, arms flailing and wide, wild smiles on their faces. Marco in his boxers and Zara in her pyjamas. But the whole time, in her mind, Lachy was dancing with her too.
30
The day of the reunion rolled round and, in light of her non-existent shopping trip, Zara raided her wardrobe for something to wear. She settled on a plum-coloured dress and matching shoes that she had purchased for a media awards ceremony she had attended with Noah a couple of years before.
Marco offered to be, not just her date, but her pretend boyfriend for the night if she wanted to show off her hunky partner. ‘I mean, I don’t really look gay as such so no one would know.’
She smiled and kissed his cheek. ‘No, but you do have a roving eye. So I’m thinking we just say we’re friends and then you can be free to flirt with whomever you choose. How’s that?’
He sulked. ‘But I wanted to pretend to be straight for a night. It’d be a giggle.’
She snorted. ‘I can assure you it’s not even close to being a giggle for me right now.’
He rested his arm loosely round her shoulders and stared at her reflection in the mirror as she applied make-up. ‘Ah, honey, I do feel for you. Maybe you should just bite the bullet and forgive him?’
She scowled at her best friend. ‘Since when are you all for forgiving the man who cheated on me?’
He shrugged. ‘Since I’ve seen how sad you are now that you’re back home. I don’t want you running off back to the Highlands to that farmer, so Josh is a safer option.’ He grinned.