In the Shade of the Blossom Tree

by Joanna Rees

  Aidan raised his glass to her, impressed.

  ‘Put it like that . . . and I can see why Roberto Enzo is so proud of you.’

  Lois smiled and looked at him curiously. ‘Proud?’ How would Aidan know that Roberto was proud of her?

  ‘I mean he must be, right? Otherwise he wouldn’t have sent you to oversee Jai’s game.’

  Lois shrugged and took a sip of her whisky. ‘I guess. Roberto calls me his white knight. Keeping his casino clean in a dirty city.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘And that’s why I hated all the media attention after the attempt on Senator Fernandez’s life. I was only doing my job.’

  Aidan scratched the side of his face. He looked embarrassed.

  ‘Seriously. I was mortified that Zak had heard of me,’ she continued. ‘I didn’t want either of you to have a preconceived idea of me. And . . . well, I’m sorry. I’m sorry again that I lied about it.’

  ‘No . . . no, it wasn’t just that you’d lied to me. That’s not why I reacted like I did.’

  ‘It wasn’t?’

  Aidan sighed. ‘It’s just that someone I loved very much once died of a gunshot wound. Just like yours. And seeing you like that . . . well, it brought it all crashing back. All the hatred I felt . . . at myself . . . for it having been her, not me . . .’

  He trailed off.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Lois said.

  ‘No, let me explain,’ he said. ‘I’m not very good at talking about this stuff, but I want to tell you how it is. You see, I married my wife young. We were infatuated. But once that burnt out, we had very little in common. I thought that was it. That I wouldn’t ever fall. But then I did.’

  ‘For the girl who got shot?’

  He nodded. ‘Her name was Becky. She worked with me in the Middle East. She died in my arms.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It was a long time ago. Seven years.’

  Lois thought of Miki. ‘Things like that never go away,’ she said.

  ‘I got drunk. I told my wife everything.’

  ‘And she didn’t take it well?’

  ‘No. She took me to the cleaners.’ He sighed. ‘And she took Zak, of course.’

  ‘I know the feeling.’

  ‘The worst,’ they both said. The fact they’d said it in perfect unison made them both smile.

  ‘Enough of the past,’ he said. ‘We should think about the future.’

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin.

  ‘Heads or tails?’ he asked.

  ‘Heads,’ she said, automatically.

  Aidan raised his eyebrows. His eyes were amused, as if he’d caught her out. ‘You’re sure now?’

  ‘Yes,’ she laughed. ‘I don’t understand?’

  He flipped the coin, but as soon as it landed he covered it with his hand.

  ‘Fun, huh?’ he said, taking a look, shielding it from her. ‘I know you’re not a gambling girl, but I bet you’re itching to know what it is?’

  She was. ‘So tell me. Did I win?’

  He shook his head. ‘Ah-ah. Not so easy. Best of three.’

  Again, he flipped the coin. Once again it landed. He covered it with a flourish, then peered again and pulled a face.

  Lois suddenly realized that she’d forgotten about the coin and was staring at his craggy tanned face and greying blond curls. She blushed as she watched him flip the coin the last time.

  ‘Ah,’ Aidan said, satisfied. He was looking at her and his eyes had a soft smile in them.

  ‘What?’ she asked. ‘What is it?’

  He turned the coin over. It was tails. ‘You lose. Which means I get to choose,’ he said.

  ‘But that’s not fair. I didn’t see the other two times. It might have been heads. Anyway, choose what?’

  He smiled. ‘Choose where we’re going next, of course,’ he said. ‘I thought that was obvious.’

  She stared at him with frustration and amusement. ‘And where exactly are we going next?’

  ‘Ah, that’d be telling.’ Returning the coin to his pocket, he signalled to the waiter for the bill.

  ‘So tell,’ she said.

  ‘Not a chance,’ Aidan said. ‘It would ruin the surprise.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Red was waiting for Savvy on the veranda of her cottage. She felt so relieved to finally find him. She’d been searching for him everywhere in all their usual haunts. He stood up quickly and from his expression she saw that he knew that Dr Savage had told her it was time to leave. He was dressed differently, in long trousers and a shirt. As if he were about to lead a safari expedition. He looked nervous.

  ‘Hey,’ she said.

  ‘How did it go?’

  ‘Max is throwing me out.’

  Red nodded. ‘I know. You OK with that?’

  ‘Not really.’

  They stared at each other. She felt like she had done when she’d first seen him – as if she could drown in his amazing wolf-like eyes. Only it was worse than that. Because now she knew the man behind them.

  She loved them right as they were now: so soft and knowing and forgiving that it brought tears to her eyes.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked, stepping towards her.

  ‘It’s just . . . you’ve done so much for me,’ she said. ‘I really don’t know how to say thank you.’

  ‘You can repay me by staying clean when you get out of here. And by having a fabulous future. By putting the past to rest.’

  She didn’t like his tone. He was making this all sound so final. Her fantasy of travelling with him seemed to be disappearing like a mirage.

  She felt as if he was letting her go. Just like Max had done. She felt like screaming for him to hold on to her. How did he know she’d land on solid ground? How did he know that she wouldn’t just go on falling, back and back?

  ‘Why don’t you come with me?’ she said quickly, before she lost her nerve. She no longer cared about what Max thought of her feelings for Red. Here, close to him, she knew they were genuine. She reached out to him.

  Red took a deep breath. But his arms stayed by his side.

  ‘What? It’s against the rules?’ she said, her tone making it perfectly clear how stupid that particular argument was now. ‘There can’t be any rules. Not now. Now that they say I’m better—’

  ‘It’s not that,’ Red said.

  ‘Then what?’

  His eyes bored into hers and she knew in an instant that what she’d suspected all along was true. He did feel something for her too. It wasn’t her imagination. This was something powerful and real. So why wouldn’t he give in to it? Why wouldn’t he admit that he cared?

  He lowered his eyes from hers. He was putting up the counsellor barrier once more.

  ‘Tell me,’ she implored.

  ‘You want the truth?’

  She nodded. ‘We’re friends, aren’t we?’ But even as she said it, she knew how desperately she wanted them to be so much more.

  ‘The truth is that I can’t tell whether this is old behaviour,’ he said. He looked down, almost as if he were ashamed for saying it.

  She recoiled, shocked. ‘It’s not, I—’

  ‘Let me finish, Savvy,’ he said, gently stopping her. ‘I don’t mean just you,’ he said. ‘I mean me. When I look at you . . . when I think about you . . . I get scared it’s the bad old me clawing its way back out again . . . trying to reduce me to nothing but a mass of compulsions.’

  ‘But what you’re feeling might be real,’ Savvy said. ‘Isn’t it just possible that it’s not that complicated? That we’re not different to a thousand people who meet every minute of every day . . . people who like each other . . . who want to be together? Normal people, Red. Like you and me.’

  ‘But that’s it. Don’t you see? I’m not sure I am normal yet. On a conscious level, yes, of course I think I am. But deep down? I don’t know.’

  ‘Red, I don’t care if you’re normal or not,’ Savvy said. ‘I like all of you.
Even the bad bits.’

  ‘I can’t risk it, Savvy. I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not with you. And until I know for sure that I’m well, then I can’t possibly know that what I’m feeling for you is real.’

  He looked so sad when he said this, but his eyes blazed with determination.

  She was aching so hard with longing that it hurt. But she knew it was impossible – and wrong – to try to persuade him. Her time here had taught her that. He had taught her that.

  Savvy felt her eyes welling with tears. She’d opened up to him like no one else. She’d never had this kind of connection with anybody. Ever.

  But now he was saying goodbye.

  ‘Oh, Savannah.’ This time he did reach out to her. He cupped her face in his hand and stared deeply, unflinchingly, into her eyes. ‘My lovely, beautiful Sav. We mustn’t undo everything we’ve worked for.’

  Lovely. Beautiful. The words echoed like church bells through her mind.

  ‘But—’

  ‘You’re going back to your life,’ he said. ‘And I’m leaving too. Today. Now. On the boat.’

  ‘What?’

  He stepped back from her then. She felt the memory of his hands on her face, like a burn.

  He nodded to the wall and she saw that leaning up against the veranda table was his rucksack, his yoga mat strapped to the bottom of it.

  ‘But where?’

  ‘I don’t know yet. I’m not sure that it matters where exactly. Just that I go. And keep going until I’m sure I’m really ready to settle down in one place.’

  ‘So this is it?’ she said. She let out an aghast laugh. It – they – couldn’t just end here . . . could they?

  ‘You need to find some answers,’ Red said, regaining his composure and taking on his counsellor tone of voice again. ‘You need to follow your heart. Learn who you are. And so do I. And we’ve both got to go it alone. Here. I want you to wear this,’ he said, pulling a friendship bracelet from his shorts pocket. He put it around her wrist and knotted it. For all the amazing jewels Savvy had ever worn, this seemed more precious than everything put together. ‘So you remember our time here. And that I’m always with you in spirit.’

  ‘What am I going to do?’ she asked. An emptiness she hadn’t felt in weeks, she now felt in her bones.

  ‘Do what you have to do,’ he said. ‘You’re so much stronger than you think you are.’

  ‘Am I?’

  He smiled gently at her. ‘Of course you are. Now do something for me.’

  ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘Make a wish.’

  Savvy closed her eyes. She wished that Red would take back everything and hold her in his arms and promise to look after her for ever. But when she opened her eyes, he was walking away from her.

  He didn’t look back and she didn’t call him back.

  As Red disappeared out of sight, she wrapped her arms around herself, listening to the noise of the wildlife and the distant hiss of the sea. She’d been cut adrift. But in another sense, she knew that he’d set her free. To perish or survive. To wilt or grow. The choice was hers. He’d given her that.

  And now the future beckoned. And home . . . wherever that might turn out to be.

  She thought of the rough and tumble of city life and all the things she loved about it. The airports and shops and restaurants. The constant noises, smells and colours and the messy edges that made it real. And the people waiting for her there.

  Max was right. And so was Red. She could do this. On her own. Her way.

  She could stay strong. She would stay strong.

  This was the start of the rest of her life.

  It was time to live again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Aidan’s mystery destination turned out to be right across the city. The journey took nearly an hour, partly due to the bicycle rickshaw that Aidan insisted every first-time tourist should try, but also because he kept getting the poor guy on the pedals to stop so that he could point out the sights.

  Next came a water taxi, all diesel stink and growl, that carried them across the harbour to the peninsula.

  It was gone midnight by the time they were back on dry land and Aidan was leading her through the brightly lit maze of harbour streets. Lois knew she should really turn round and take her tired bones back to her hotel, but she was having too much fun.

  They hadn’t stopped talking since they’d left the pub. And not about anything serious this time. Just fun stuff. Movies, books they’d both read, places they’d been.

  Lois felt like pinching herself. How had she let Aidan sweep her off like this? She hardly knew the guy and yet here she was on another adventure with him.

  At the landing jetty, Aidan took her hand as they crossed the road, although there wasn’t much traffic. She hurried along beside him, amused that he hadn’t let her hand go.

  He took her through a green iron gate into a small, well-kept park. She tried to keep her footing as they stumbled in the dark past a temple.

  ‘What is this place?’ she asked. Despite being so near the city, she could hear the wind rustling through the trees and the wind chimes tinkling in the temple eaves.

  ‘Come on, this way.’

  Aidan led her through a gate in the railings and Lois saw that they were at the water’s edge. Hong Kong’s brilliantly lit skyline stretched up into the black sky across the bay, a never-sleeping cathedral of commerce. No wonder people called it the New York of the East.

  ‘Incredible,’ Lois sighed.

  ‘Isn’t she? I bought her from a naval architect.’

  She? Lois turned to Aidan, only to see him gazing proudly at a nineteenth-century wooden barge, moored to their right, lit up by a string of brightly coloured paper lanterns swaying in the breeze.

  He smiled. ‘Like to take a look?

  What did that mean? Did that mean he thought she was staying the night? With him? Here on the boat?

  Don’t jump to conclusions, she told herself. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. She could call a taxi and get back to her hotel whenever she wanted.

  ‘Sure,’ she said.

  He stepped down on to the stern of the boat and reached out to her. She took his hand and allowed him to lift her down. He opened a small gate in the boat’s gunwales, which had been built up for privacy and security, and she walked through it on to the wooden deck, which was festooned with potted plants and flowers. The scent of jasmine filled the air.

  Aidan opened a painted wooden hatch and ushered her inside, down a short flight of steps into the darkness below. At the click of a switch a brass ceiling light flickered into life, illuminating everything in a soft yellow glow.

  Inside, the whole craft had been hollowed out into one living space. In the stern, a tinted window showed the water level outside and the lights of the city opposite.

  In front of it was an enormous bed, covered in cushions and a fur throw. In the centre of the space was a large sitting area with two low bamboo and cushion sofas facing each other. An old-fashioned wood-burner sat in between, a chimney jutting up into the sandalwood ceiling.

  The galley under the stairs was cluttered with copper-bottomed pans hanging from hooks, spice racks and coloured tins on the open-plan shelves. There was a wooden island with a butler’s sink and an old-fashioned tap. Next to it stood an enamel jug filled with pale mauve roses and a champagne bottle unopened in a bucket of half-melted ice.

  Aidan crossed to it and popped the cork. He handed her a glass.

  ‘You set me up,’ Lois said.

  ‘Guilty.’

  ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘You take another gamble. To stay or to go . . .’

  Like she really had a choice. Because who was she kidding? Right now, there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

  Aidan took her glass from her and put it down next to the flowers with his own, then he slipped his arm around her waist. As he pulled her towards him, she gasped. Gently he brushed his lips against hers.


  She closed her eyes, giving in to the sensation, letting her inhibitions go as the delicious feeling of indecent intimacy overtook her.

  She loved the way his lips felt – shifting from soft to yielding – as his tongue parted her lips and started searching out her own. She felt a dart of pleasure between her legs. She shifted to put her arms around him, desperate to hold him close. Wanting . . . needing more.

  This is mad, she thought. I shouldn’t be doing this. But God, she wanted him.

  Still kissing, Aidan gently steered her towards the bed. It was like they were engaged in an exquisitely slow dance. She trailed her fingertips down his arms, feeling the muscles there flex and swell.

  She clawed her fingers through his hair, kissing his neck, breathing him in. Christ, this feels good . . .

  She began quivering with excitement as he unbuttoned her shirt. She felt his hand softly run over her chest. He leaned down and kissed from her white lacy bra to her stomach. Then he softly laid her back on the bed, unhooking the buttons of her jeans. She tensed as she felt him kiss across to her scar. Then relaxed. His touch, his tender kisses, bought tears to her eyes.

  Tugging at the waist of her jeans, he slowly slipped them down over her hips. She sat up, desperate to feel the touch of his skin against hers. She pulled at his T-shirt and watched him lift it over his head. His chest was muscular and defined, with an old faded scar down one side of his ribs. She traced it with her fingertip, then leaned down and flicked her tongue over his nipple, feeling the skin pucker in her mouth. Running her fingers into the hair on his chest, she began exploring him, feeding her senses with the taste of him, the smell of his skin, the feel of his soft grey-blond curls beneath her palm.

  Rolling across the bed, Aidan pulled aside the fabric of her bra, kissing her breasts, his soft lips pinching her nipples hard enough to hurt exquisitely.

  Holding her tight, he kissed her again, his hand sliding inside her knickers. She gasped as he found her clitoris and began rubbing it. She was shaking, breathing so heavily. Her eyes closed as she surrendered to the pleasure, letting it sweep her along like a deep ocean current. The waves of pleasure began to shimmer through her loins.