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Seven Days: The Complete Story

Page 39

by Dale, Lindy


  Oh my freaking God.

  The house is gorgeous with a capital G. It’s a Cape Cod with two dormer windows and a large third dormer in the shape of a barn. The entire house is clad in silvering shingles. It has white painted windows and a dark grey door with a brass lion’s head for a knocker. I am gob smacked. This house is like uber beautiful. So beautiful I just want to run onto that wide verandah and flop myself into the big comfy lounge and tell myself how massively lucky I am to have been given it as a gift. Nicholas’ dad must have been spewing when I got this and the Constance. I know I would have been.

  I wheel Nicky down the drive and pull his pram up onto the verandah. Then, with literally a shiver of excitement, I push the key into the lock and open the door.

  And, like wow.

  Wow.

  Wow.

  I have no other words to describe the absolute beauty. The house is perfect. Perfect. I always loved my little cottage but this is like my dream house. With Nicky safely in my arms we explore the house together. Rustic antique furniture peppers the rooms. Old woven rugs decorate the timber floor. There’s a wooden rowboat with Nicholas’ name painted on the side hanging from the ceiling, an actual life-sized rowboat. Like a kid in a candy shop I wander about. I choose a bedroom for me — clearly Nicholas’ by the decorating style — and one for Nicky. There’s two other spare bedrooms and a study as well. And the view. I have no words to describe the view but it makes my own seem rather pathetic. I can see why Nicholas loved coming here so much.

  I am officially in love with this house.

  After I finish checking it out, I head into the sitting room. There’s an old piano next to the window and I wonder if Nicholas knew how to play. He never told me he could. I’ll have to ask his father. Then I think that maybe, when Nicky is old enough he could have lessons too. Hell, I might have lessons as well. I’ve always wanted to learn, I was simply too scared of starting something as an adult and looking a fool. I run my fingers along the ivory keys and it’s then I notice three gilt frames sitting on top of the piano. The first is a photo of a very beautiful, yet fragile looking, woman. That has to be Nicholas’ mother, Nicky’s grandma. The second is of the same woman and a little boy. Though his face is younger and chubbier, the eyes are those of Nicholas. I pick up the frame and examine the picture, running my fingers over his face. He must have been about five or six. He looks like a cheeky thing. I put the photo down and turn my gaze to the last picture. It’s Nicholas on his university graduation day. He looks so handsome in his cap and gown, his eyes are shining so brightly into the camera, as if he knows it’s his destiny to have a life of good fortune. I swipe away a tear and hug Nicky tight to me, pointing to the picture as I do.

  “Look Nicky, this is your daddy. He was a handsome devil and the nicest man in the world.”

  Then I cry.

  I cry the tears of loneliness, tears because I will never see Nicholas again except when I look at his picture. I cry that he has left me this house, filled with so many memories I can never explain to my son and I cry for my baby who will never meet his father. And when I finish crying I go back to my little cottage and pack my things. I carry them up the hill to my new home and I unload everything. It takes forever but at last I have two more photos to sit on the top of the piano with the other three. The first is the selfie of Nicholas and I. The second is Nicholas, Joel and I on my graduation day. We’re happy and I’m happy because I know I’m where Nicholas would want me to be.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Two Months Later

  I’m on my hands and knees in the garden of the cottage. The first spring bulbs are poking their heads through the soil and the trailing rose over the arbour is ready to burst into flower. I’m busy removing weeds and spreading mulch. Beside me, on a bunny rug Nicky is gurgling and cooing. He’s rocking side to side, intent on rolling somewhere, and I’m positive he’s trying to escape though I have no idea where to. He’s fat and happy and growing like a weed.

  The last two months have rung in so many changes to my life. I haven’t seen Joel but I’ve spoken to him often on the phone. He’s finding it hard without Nicholas, harder than I do, I think. But then Nicholas had been his best friend since they were eight. He has a right to be taking his grieving slowly. He’s taking us slowly, too. He hasn’t asked me when I’m coming home for a few weeks now. He hasn’t mentioned that night and the effect it had on our relationship. He understands my feelings and my need for space and solitude and I so respect him for giving me that.

  I almost feel content with how things are now. It may be that Joel and I will never be together again, that we’ll move on, our past becoming nothing but a memory of a time we loved. And if that happens, I’ll cross that bridge. I’m ready to now. Being here, just Nicky and I, has given me time to ponder and grieve. Time to plan. It was what I needed and I’m grateful to Joel for allowing me that space.

  Since the night I moved into Gull’s Nest, everything seems to have fallen into place. My life has an order I dreamed of, and surprises I once dreaded now fill me with excitement. Every day with Nicky is new. Every day is a beautiful surprise as he navigates this big new world.

  The first thing I did after moving was advertise my little house for holiday rental. I now welcome visitors to The Bay on a weekly basis. They come to share the seaside experience of my cottage, to hear the waves crashing against the shore and take the short walk to the beach. I clean the house after they leave and tend to the garden. I bake them bread and scones — yes me!

  What originally began as a way to make some pocket money and keep myself busy seems to be turning into a whole new career. The locals noticed the things I did to improve the garden around Nicholas’ house and one job led to another. Now, I look after three gardens on a regular basis and am helping two couples to redesign their old overgrown gardens. I can work around Nicky’s nap times and take him with me on the job. He adores sitting up in his pram watching what’s going on. But he adores being spoiled more. My clients love him to bits.

  Last month I began learning to sail, though I totally suck at it and thought I’d be banned from the sailing club for capsizing my sabot and sending my tutor into the drink. I’m enjoying it and hopefully, with some help, I’ll be able to motor out of the headland to send Nicholas’ ashes to their final resting place when the time comes. I think he’d let me off hoisting the sail if he knew I’d been trying to master sailing as hard as I can.

  I glance at my watch and down tools. Tonight is Emily’s hen’s do and I’m travelling back to the city. I’ve booked a hotel room and hired a sitter though I’m not sure how that’ll go. I’m not sure I can be away from Nicky for more than half an hour. I’ve never done it and the idea that something might go wrong scares the crap out of me. But like everything else, all I can do is give it a go. And if I fail, I’ll try again another day.

  *****

  “Thank freaking God you’re here.” Emily grumbles into my ear, then gives a furtive look to the future sister-in-laws, hoping they didn’t hear her. They’re rather old and spinster looking, not your typical bridesmaid material. I don’t think they could hear a bull in a china shop.

  “If I have to listen to one more reason why I shouldn’t get plastered on my own hen’s night and dance with a stripper I’m going to slit my wrists,” she continues. “They are sooo B.O.R.I.N.G.”

  I laugh and hug her back. “It’s nice to see you, too. I can’t believe you’re getting married next week. This is so majorly awesome.”

  Emily leads me to a spot next to where she’s sitting. “Move it, Rachel,” she says to her sister. “Sadie’s sitting next to me.”

  “But I just sat down.”

  “And now you can just get up.” She takes Rachel’s handbag and puts it in an empty place opposite us. “You can still talk to us from there, now scoot.”

  Donning a pouty face, Rachel picks up her blue cocktail, complete with penis-shaped straw and moves around the table.

  “So,” Emily says,
once we’re seated and I have a drink in my hand. “How’s my adorable Nicky? Is he growing big? I can’t wait to squeeze his chubby little cheeks again tomorrow.”

  I slip out my phone and show her the photos I snapped earlier today in the garden. I usually text them to her but I was so busy I completely forgot.

  “He gets cuter every day. I could just eat him up.” She gushes, flipping through the photos. “What can he do now?”

  “He started smiling, it’s all gums and he tries to roll over. I think he wants to escape me.”

  “You can’t blame him. You are quite boring.”

  “I am not!”

  “It was a joke, honey bubble. You know I love you. And what news of our other resident hunk?”

  “I spoke to him last week. He’s not enjoying handling the whole company. He says he never knows what’s going on from one day to the next. I suggested perhaps he should think of taking on an architect to fill Nicholas’ role. He can’t do everything and he openly admits that.”

  “I can’t imagine Joel letting anyone else into Nicholas’ office.”

  “Me either. And even if he does the new guy would have nowhere to sit. Nicholas bequeathed his chair to his secretary.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. It was some inside joke or something. Even Joel laughed at the time, and that’s saying something.”

  “Any thoughts of getting back together? You know he misses you like crazy.”

  “I don’t know. I’m liking my own company at the moment. It’s not that I don’t love Joel but I need to be alone to process everything. It may be that we never get back together.”

  “I know this sound hypocritical after what happened with us but I think that would be a dreadful shame. Joel loves you and you love him.”

  “Ever the romantic. Sometimes love isn’t enough.”

  By this time, we’ve finished eating our appetisers and after a couple of drinks, I’m dying for a wee so I excuse myself and head through the restaurant in search of the loo. I’m rounding the corner of a large concrete pole, my eyes scanning the walls for a sign to lead me in the right direction. But this does not happen.

  Instead, I come face to face with Joel.

  Having dinner.

  With a girl.

  Missing me like crazy, is he? This is not going to end well.

  Suddenly, I can’t move. My about-to-overflow bladder forgets its urgency, which is lucky because my feet have been nailed to the floor with metal spikes. My mouth is dry, my heart begins to pound. What is Joel doing here? And why does he look so incredibly hot when he’s only meant to look that way for me? How can he be here with another girl? He’s my Joel, not hers.

  Okay, sure, I’ve fobbed him off the last few months but he knows why. I assumed that meant he’d wait. Now I find he’s wining, dining and probably fucking that girl the way I like to be fucked.

  Oh, this is so not on.

  I watch as the girl, a gorgeous brunette — with the type of rounded perky boobs Joel adores— leans across to brush her hand over his forearm. Her ringed finger glints in the candlelight.

  Step away from the man, I think. Step away now or I might not be responsible for what I do. There are an awful lot of knives on tables in my near vicinity and I’m always keen to hone a new skill these days. I bore my eyes into the girl willing her to die. Unfortunately she doesn’t. She only smiles wider and sexier and shows off more of her cleavage, leaving Joel’s tongue practically trailing on the tablecloth. This is so not fair. How can I compete with that?

  I decide to text him. I have no idea why. It seems, clearly, I left my brain in Nicky’s baby backpack.

  Beep. Joel’s phone buzzes.

  I’ve typed. I’m so consumed with jealousy I want to be sick. I’ve never behaved like this before.

  Okay, so there was that one time at Joel’s birthday but we won’t go there. We need to focus on now.

  Joel glances around the room. I think he senses my nearness. He says something to the girl and bends his head to type.

 

  It honestly amazes me how my sarcastic side comes to the fore when I’m cross.

  Joel shuffles in his seat. Or should I say squirms. His eyes dart about the room but he hasn’t found me yet. So I decide to help him along. I head for the front door, sashaying straight past him as seductively as I can, simply to annoy him. I have no idea what I’m going to say when I see him face to face. I’m so angry with him the words are frozen on my tongue.

  Pity really. I’d love to give him a mouthful.

  I wait for him on the street. It’s a busy Friday night and the restaurant strip is packed with people. They jostle us as we face off. Taxis on the kerb honk loudly dulling our voices.

  I can hear him clearly though. Every single word.

  Joel looks peeved. “What was that about?”

  “I could ask you the same thing. Why are you here with that girl and why was she fondling your dick under the table?”

  He pauses, frowning. He appears seriously confused by what I’ve said. Or maybe he doesn’t want to admit that I’ve caught him in the act. Joel, the playboy, has returned. Well and truly. “Perhaps you should think about what happened the last time we were together, Sadie.”

  He’s angry with me now. He never calls me Sadie unless he’s angry or upset.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You had sex with me, then you left in the middle of the night. You told me you loved me but you refuse to come home. I haven’t been with another woman in over a year. I loved you and you threw that in my face. What do you expect me to do? I’m not a fucking monk. There’s only so long I can wank into my own hand.”

  “You disgust me.”

  “Why? Because I refuse to sit around and wait for you forever?”

  “I didn’t realise there was a time limit on grieving.”

  Joel rolls his eyes. He literally rolls his eyes. The freaking cheek of him.

  “You need to move on from that and make a decision,” he says. “I can’t wait anymore. Life has to go on.”

  He takes a step toward me. Our bodies touch and as if by instinct my mind begins to cloud over the way it always does when he’s around. My fingers are tingling being so close to his. I can almost see the electricity sparking between us. “Is this an ultimatum?”

  His head bends to mine. His face is so near I lose my breath. “I guess it is.”

  “Do I have to decide right this second?”

  “Unless you want me to go back in to the restaurant and finish my dinner.”

  No, no, NOOOO!

  “You can’t go back to her! It’s not right. You’re meant to be with me.”

  “Are you jealous, Ariel?” He quirks a brow.

  “You fucking know I am. Geez I hate you, I hate that you can make me feel this way.”

  “I guess you’ll hate me more when I tell you this was a set up then—”

  Huh?

  “— Emily and I set this up to force you to make a decision. I’m tired of waiting around while you pick a few weeds out of the garden. We figured seeing me with someone else was the only way to force you into action.”

  “I’m not going to let you go again,” he continues. “If I have to, it’ll be because we both agree it’s never going to work. But I need to know now. Tonight. No more fucking me around. It’s decision time.”

  A taxi pulls up beside me. Joel glances at it, then leans across and opens the back door. “Get in.”

  “I can’t. It’s Emily’s hen’s night. She’ll kill me.” The words leave my mouth before I realise I’m considering doing what he’s asking. I don’t even know what he’s asking.

  “She won’t mind. You get in the taxi. I’ll tell her and Kayliah we’re leaving.”

  That
girl’s name is Kayliah? Poor thing.

  “What will you say?”

  “That this is the last chance you and I have. If we’re meant to be together we have to make a decision tonight. So get in the fucking car, Ariel. Now.”

  I like it when he calls me Ariel. It makes me quiver.

  *****

  I’m so excited by the time we get to the hotel I have difficulty getting the money out of my purse to pay the sitter. I can’t believe I’m being so slutty, that I’m letting Joel talk me into this. Again. But seeing him with that girl was the catalyst. It made me realise I have to act if I want to preserve what we have. I make quick small talk with the sitter, thanking her for her help and making up a story about how I’m feeling ill. Nicky is sleeping peacefully in his port-a-cot. I hope he continues to sleep. Tonight is one night I don’t want to be interrupted.

  There’s a quiet rap on the door a couple of minutes after the sitter leaves. I open it and stand watching as Joel strides through the doorway. His t-shirt is clinging to his chest and torso. It’s untucked where I attempted to undress him in the taxi. It’s showing a hint of tanned skin above the waist of his jeans. My heart pumps so loudly at the sight I’m positive he should be able to hear it. He’ll certainly feel it when he takes me in his arms.

  “Are we doing the right thing?” I whisper.

  “We’re about to find out.” He shoves me against the wall, pressing his body to mine. He tilts my chin so our lips meet.

  Leaning into me, Joel’s hands explore my body. They slide over my breasts and down my hips. They tickle the skin of my bottom and pinch at my nipples. His fingers raise my skirt to caress my thighs. His knee parts my legs and then he lifts me so that my legs are locked around his hips. His hands pull aside my knickers. His fingers delve, sliding through the wetness between my legs, they thrust inside me and stoke the fire that’s already there. I am burning up for him. The flicker has become a forest fire inside me and I arch, wanting every part of him forever in me. He kisses my breasts, then he slides his hands around my back to my bottom and guides himself into me. The feeling is intense. This is where I want to be. For the rest of my life.

 

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