He’d be very happy to have a friend that just happened to be a girl; he’d never had one of those before. He’d never had someone to hang out with, without a pile of messy emotional stuff muddying the waters that is. Yep, a smile flickered across his face. He could do with a friend and he was pretty certain so could she.
He followed her in through the door, closing it carefully behind him in case Miss Elizabeth Bennett was on the wander. Honestly, what a bloody stupid name for a person, let alone a cat. Although it must be said a very large part of him felt quite flattered at being compared to the indomitable Fitzwilliam Darcy, what bloke wouldn’t? He’d even checked out the lake scene on YouTube, although he still wasn’t convinced about that shirt – jodhpurs and riding boots at a push, but that shirt was a little too poncy for his liking.
Making his way into the kitchen he automatically filled the kettle before gathering together cups and teabags. He could hear drawers banging upstairs so it could be a while.
He jumped up to finish making the tea just as she strolled into the room, a rucksack in one hand and Lizzie in the other.
‘Here, let’s swap.’ He handed her a mug and took a now squirming bundle of fur and nestled it up to his chin.
‘Hello young lady, you’re looking a lot better today.’ A pair of pale yellow eyes pinned him with the glare of all glares before settling herself on to his chest with a gentle rumbling purr.
‘Cats like me.’ He grinned across the room as his new best friend leant against the fridge sipping her tea.
‘Is that all cats or just female ones?’ She parried back.
‘Oh, cats don’t discriminate.’ He lifted a finger and stroked the thin fur just behind her ears, ‘As long as you know just where to tickle them – just like women in fact.’
‘Well just so you know – I’m not ticklish.’
‘Shame!’
‘What?’
‘I always used to tickle my sister, and as you’re like another sister to me….’ It took him one stride to make the distance across the floor. He noticed immediately the way she tensed, her eyes wide with what – shock, anticipation, fear? He would have kissed her cheek if he hadn’t seen fear, his mind working overtime. He’d never seen that look on a girl’s face and he didn’t like it. Reaching out the same finger he’d used to tickle Lizzie he gently tapped the end of her nose. ‘Come on sis, let’s go play at buckets and spades.’
It was only a short journey to Blackrock. The sun was still beating down on what was proving to be the hottest day of the year making sense out of his spur of the moment suggestion. He hadn’t intended on doing anything other than dropping her home. After all the day hadn’t been the resounding success he’d hoped. The only word for it was different; a different sort of day with a different sort of girl.
‘Ice cream or swim first?’ He said, breaking the silence that had suddenly descended upon them like a cloud.
She was sitting on the sand just inches apart, a million miles of distance separating them. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t beside her; he wasn’t even on the same beach. As far as she was concerned she was alone with her thoughts and nothing else. He was as insignificant as the specks of sand digging into his hands and sprinkling his legs like fairy dust. To her he was as nothing.
Well that’s put me in my place now hasn’t it?
He tried to remember the last time a girl had totally blanked him – he couldn’t. He’d never had trouble in getting girls to go out with him, but just recently he’d found more enjoyment in sitting at home with a good book and a cold beer. This dating game was just too frantic after a busy day on the unit. At thirty four he was too old to be running around chasing girls. Not that he was chasing her, far from it. She’d set out the boundaries of their friendship and he was fine with that. Although watching the way the sunlight reflected and bounced across her hair, turning carrot into burnished amber a small part of him wondered if he hadn’t been too hasty in agreeing. His eyes tracked down again to her wedding finger - not too old to have a history, a history she was obviously having difficulty dealing with.
Reaching out he touched her hand, unable to bear the oppressive silence even one second longer.
‘Grainne, what’s the matter? Why are you so so….’ But he was interrupted by a stream of words.
‘Oh, I think a swim first don’t you?’ She said, flinging the words out as if to prevent any further questions. Standing up she pulled her t-shirt and jeans off to reveal a plain black swimsuit.
He leapt to his feet, slightly disorientated by both her sudden change in mood and the sight of her body outlined against the glare of the sun.
‘Hey, that’s cheating!’ But he was speaking to her back.
She was running down the beach. He watched her legs, admiring the way her athletic build powered towards to water. Of course she was running away. She was running away from him, just as she was running away from herself. The only part he was having difficulty with was the reason why. The obvious explanation had a man at the centre – the man that had given her the ring.
He started to change; his eyes still following her as she hit the water hard and, with outstretched arm broke into a front crawl. For some reason he didn’t feel very brotherly towards her any more. It had been a nice idea while it lasted but….. In truth he couldn’t decide what he felt for her. He folded his clothes into a neat pile before walking down to the water’s edge, his pace deliberately slow. At a push he’d have to say he liked her as a friend. He also admired her as a person but more than that. She intrigued him and funnily enough the one thing he did know was that wherever she was he wanted to be too.
Chapter Fourteen
Grainne hit the water running, the cool frothy waves dragging a gasp from her lips. She stopped to regain control of her breathing before heading out to one of the orange buoys in the centre of the bay, her arms slicing through the water as she hurtled through the sea in an attempt to outrun her thoughts. Her mind seemed to know instinctively when she relaxed – that’s when it started to play tricks on her.
Or perhaps it’s my hormones
She still hadn’t had a period since the funeral, but apparently that was normal if her doctor was to be believed. But was it normal to feel so sad and so tired all the time? She’d stopped taking the antidepressants: they hadn’t helped. Instead of feeling flat they’d made her feel like a stranger – a stranger carrying out the game of living in someone else’s shoes. She preferred the pain of remembering – the pain of remembering she could cope with. It was the fear of forgetting she couldn’t hack anymore.
She rolled onto her back enjoying the waves lapping over her stomach, her mind weaving a tangle of lost hopes and broken promises.
‘So what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?’
Flipping back onto her stomach she found herself face to face with the man she could never relegate to the role of brother.
‘Purleese, can you not think of something less corny?’
‘So what are you doing later, fancy coming back to my place and seeing my etchings?’
She stared back at him for a moment, not sure whether to take him seriously until she noticed the smile.
‘Only if you catch me.’ She retorted on a laugh as she turned around and headed back towards the beach; back towards safety.
Grainne was a strong swimmer and confident she could easily outswim any man but as she saw the shoreline within throwing distance she sensed him ploughing through the water at her heels. She suddenly felt his powerful arms wrap themselves around her waist pulling her to a stop.
She felt the weight of his arms holding her suspended in mid-air, her legs scrambling fruitlessly to find the seabed. She sensed a change in atmosphere. What had been a lovely relaxed late summer’s day was now charged with enough electricity to keep the National Grid fuelled for weeks. She had two choices: give in or give him hell - and what was that she’d promised about never giving in to a man again?
‘What the hell do
you think you’re doing?’ She said, her tone of voice belying her true feelings. If he really wanted her a little sparing wouldn’t stop him – it hadn’t stopped Simon.
‘Well you offered me a challenge – what did you expect? So what’s my reward?’
She gazed at him, her eyes drawn to his firm almost stubborn lips; Okay so she’d dared him to a race, but surely he couldn’t be so mean as to want a reward. She noticed the way he was staring at her, his gaze almost remote as he seemed to be memorising every line, every curve of her face. He couldn’t possibly think that she would, that she could….
‘Look Ruari, you’re a nice bloke but....’ She bit down hard on her lip, struggling to come up with the right answer. She had to work with him at the end of the day. To see him every day after they’d….
She felt his hand move from her waist to her chin, directing her gaze up to his.
‘It’s alright Sis, I’ll accept an IOU.’ He said, smoothing the pad of his finger over her bruised lip. ‘Come on – let’s sunbath for a bit. I didn’t get a great deal of sleep last night.’ He added, carrying her up the beach and placing her back on her feet before stretching out his full length on the sand and closing his eyes. Grainne watched as he made himself comfortable before grabbing her towel and spreading it a couple of feet away.
Looking out to sea her eye caught on a little fair haired boy paddling in the waves with his bucket and spade, his anxious looking mum walking by his side. The colour of his hair and the way it curled on his forehead reminded her suddenly of Simon and a deep sadness gripped her heart akin to physical pain. Just for a moment the beach faded, memories pushed in and then the dream began: A waking dream full of shadows and unfulfilled hopes - hallucinations to bridge the gap between time and sanity. She forgot where she was.
She forgot who she was with. Just for a moment she imagined it was her on the beach with Simon’s child, that she was the mummy with the beaming smile and uncombed hair. Ruari had quipped about playing buckets and spades, it had nearly broken her heart then and it was still breaking now.
The dream ended as suddenly as it had begun and she was left to face the reality of another mother’s joy in the presence of her child. She tracked the small family’s progress with eyes brimming with unshed tears. Reaching up she dragged the back of her hand across her lids to blot out the image, but their memory lingered: their memory still there when she shifted her gaze to an old lady making her way to the water’s edge, her stick sinking into the sand with each step. Just as it lingered when she turned to examine his face, his laughter lines now smoothed in sleep, his jaw smudged with the stain of a five o’clock shadow.
She wanted to stay and stare. She wanted to reach out a hand to feel the texture of his thick springy hair between her fingers but she knew she needed to be alone. The need to be alone was sudden as it was imperative if she wasn’t about to make a complete fool of herself.
‘I’ll get the ice creams,’ her voice so soft as if speaking to herself. Bending down she wrapped her red and black Penney’s sarong around her almost non-existent waist. She’d nearly left it at home, but now she’d lost so much weight, now that she didn’t have a body to be proud of it was a necessity rather than a luxury. She’d left behind her new bikinis though - the ones she’d trawled up and down Cork for. She wasn’t a bikini girl, but for Simon and the honeymoon he’d promised her she’d made an exception. Both were rolled up in a ball in the back of her chest of drawers – she’d never wear them now. Grabbing some change from the bottom of her bag she strode up the beach her eyes focused ahead.
She didn’t see Ruari sit up and follow every movement of her gently swaying body. She didn’t see him track her progress as she headed towards the ice-cream van to take her place behind the short queue. She didn’t see him push his glasses up his nose, something he always did when he had no idea what else to do. She didn’t see him shake his head in confusion. When she returned with two giant Mr Whippy’s he was in the exact same position, his eyes closed against the bright sun, his glasses slipping down his nose.
She reached out a foot and nudged his hip. ‘Wake up lazy bones, these are melting all over the place.’
Chapter Fifteen
Ruari opened his eyes and stared up at her, before glancing away and focusing on the dripping ices. The red rimmed eyes and tear stained face told their own story but he’d been snubbed once already today. He’d scanned the near empty beach when she’d left but he couldn’t even begin to guess at the reason behind her tears. The only other people on the beach were a young mum and her little boy in red Spiderman bathers messing about on a Lilo at the water’s edge and an old woman in bright yellow about to enter the water. He remembered then about her gran and decided to keep quiet. There was nothing he could say on the subject of grief that could help, but he’d be there for her if and when she needed him – and even if she didn’t for that matter.
‘You should have woken me.’ He took the ice cream and starting to lick the drips hanging like icicles from the side of the cone.
‘No problem. That makes us quits now doesn’t it?’ She said, untying the sarong and easing herself down beside him, her eyes firmly fixed on the horizon. Staring at her profile he’d give anything to know what she was thinking. He knew some of it already. She’d been engaged and presumably dumped and, remembering his recent course, dumped by someone he’d probably met too. His mind shifted back to the course as he tried to work out just who it could have been, but like all ALS courses it had been oversubscribed. He’d at least need a name or part of a name to work on and now wasn’t the time to be asking intimate questions - not with the sight of those eyes too damp for any man’s comfort, even a doctor’s.
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ He finally replied. ‘I think I should choose payment. How about you agree to join me for a drink later? No strings attached, I’ll even go as far as chips afterwards.’
He watched a raft of emotions flickering over her face, knowing all too well that a refusal was on its way. That didn’t surprise him in the least. What did surprise him was the knowledge that her refusal was going to hurt and hurt bad.
He almost wished he’d never asked her to the wedding. He almost wished he’d never offered to give her a lift home. He almost wished he’d never met her – no he’d never wish for that. But he’d like to know what the bloody hell was going on inside his body. It felt as if all his hormones had decided to have a party without inviting him. They were chasing around his brain, upsetting his heart and as for his reproductive organs – well let’s just say the less time he spent in his swimming trunks the better unless he wasn’t about to embarrass himself and her for that matter!
He continued to look at her, to analyse what it was about her exactly. He’d changed his mind about her hair and carrots were his favourite vegetable after all. Her eyes, whilst a common mid blue were wide set and expressive. Her skin: pale, translucent even with the feint stain of freckles chasing across her cheeks. Her nose, well he could discount that and as for her mouth, it was far too wide to be thought of as beautiful, but she had the sweetest smile.
All in all he hadn’t changed his mind about her. She could never be called pretty, even with the lights off. But there were plenty of other women out there in the same boat. The Mona Lisa, one of the best loved images of womanhood known to man could never be called a stonking chick even in the most illustrious of circles. Her nose was far too long for starters and talk about having a bad hair day! In fact he’d always favoured Vermeer’s Girl in a Pearl Earring over Da Vinci’s masterpiece – although, come to think of it she’d had no hair to boast of either; red or otherwise.
‘Look, thanks Ruari for the offer but….’
‘But you don’t want to come for a drink.’ He interrupted smoothly.
‘Well it’s been a busy day; I’m on earlies tomorrow and…’
‘I’m giving you the brush off, in the nicest way I can.’ He interrupted again.
Chapter Sixteen
Gra
inne blushed scarlet, finally realising where the conversation was leading. Biting down on her lip again she struggled to think up some witty retort but her mind remained a stubborn blank.
Maybe that’s because you find him cute, a little traitorous voice adding its pennyworth to her muddled thoughts. In fact as far as refusing goes you’d much rather be with him than without.
‘Look Ruari, maybe in a few d…’ She stalled, throwing a look out to sea - her whole body motionless as she scanned the area in front of her.
‘Oh my God.’ Jerking to her feet she flung her half-finished ice-cream away.
‘Call an ambulance!’
‘What, what, WHAT…?’
Grainne sprinted down the beach her eyes everywhere. There was the Lilo still afloat. There was the mother and son, now gathering pebbles and shells into their bucket. There was the old woman’s walking stick poking out of the sand.
There was no sign of the old woman.
After that things became hazy. If anyone had asked her to write down the next five minutes she wouldn’t have been able to. With heart pounding she gulped air into her lungs before throwing herself into the sea, frantically trying to catch sight of that yellow swimsuit. Nothing: clawing at the water, deeper and deeper until her lungs were ready to burst – still nothing. Taking another quick breath she saw, as if in slow motion Ruari running towards her, ice cream dripping off his leg.
The shells were scattered now, the bucket forgotten - the mother, clenching her child to her breast started to scream. In the nightmares that followed she’d always wake up with the sound of that scream ringing in her ears.
Girl Descending (Irish Girl, Hospital Romance 2) Page 8