Safe With Me

by Helen Lowrie

  ‘She’s hot, man,’ Adam said between breaths. ‘Nothing like Jasmine but still –’

  ‘We’re just friends,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  ‘No, really, we’re old friends.’

  ‘OK, so you won’t mind if I hit on her then?’ I glared at Adam and he laughed, his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Joke! I’m just joking, jeez!’

  We kept jogging, our studded boots thudding out a rhythm, while behind us our fellow Warriors grumbled, keen to have a shower, a burger and a pint. I’d thoroughly enjoyed today’s session – it always felt good to be part of a team and expending physical energy with a fully focused mind. But it was also an invaluable distraction. The possibility of impending fatherhood scared me witless. Most of the time I tried not to think about it – the baby still might turn out not to be mine and I was clinging to that hope with near desperation. But if I did turn out to be the father I wasn’t sure what would be worse: a child of mine being abandoned to strangers or brought up by me alone. Maybe not entirely alone of course – I hoped Kat might stay and help me.

  Kat – for five days now I’d been haunted by memories of pleasuring her. The whole encounter was just so extraordinary: the thrill of finding her in my bed, the sublime feel of her body as she fell apart in my mouth, the sound as she moaned my name… The quiet darkness had heightened the overall sense of illicit excitement but it was more than just a physical release – I’d felt something else; something visceral; something deeper; something I’d never experienced before with anyone else and it had blown my mind completely.

  I was still convinced that any kind of romantic relationship with Kat wasn’t an option, especially now. And anyway, she deserved better than me. My track record with women proved that I would fuck up and lose her, possibly hurting her in the process. So where did that leave us?

  ‘You’re not getting back with Jasmine then?’ Adam interrupted my thoughts. I hadn’t told anyone except Kat about the baby yet.

  I shook my head. ‘No.’

  ‘Good,’ Liam grunted on the other side of me.

  Adam and I squinted up at him in surprise but Liam just kept moving, his breathing laboured.

  ‘Where did that come from?’ I said.

  Liam glanced at me impassively and shrugged his enormous shoulders. ‘I don’t like her,’ he said, returning his gaze to the ground.

  His comment surprised me. They had only met a couple of times and certainly Jasmine had had no time for Liam, Adam or even my city work colleagues and had rarely made any effort to socialise with them. Regardless of this most of my friends were captivated by Jasmine Reed. In fact, Liam’s missing ex-girlfriend, Cally, had been particularly star-struck when she and Jasmine met. Liam had always conveyed the same affable respect towards Jasmine as he did towards anyone else. ‘Why not?’

  Liam scratched his burly chest with one hand. ‘She wasn’t good for you.’

  My best mate’s words were oddly moving. I’d gradually come to the same conclusion about my ex myself but I was impressed that Liam hadn’t been blinded by her popular façade like everyone else.

  ‘In what way?’ Adam interjected. ‘You never said anything to me?’

  Liam shrugged. ‘I like Kat though,’ he said, avoiding Adam’s question and glancing in her direction. ‘She seems nice.’

  I couldn’t help smiling. ‘Thanks man.’ I slapped him on the back as we neared the end of our lap. ‘Good to know.’

  The White Bear held a long-standing Tuesday-night reservation for the Wildham Warriors: three pushed-together picnic benches in the beer garden, complete with parasols. The sun had grown hazy as cloud gathered high up in the sky but the air was still sticky with heat.

  I left Kat chatting to Liam’s brother Lester and his wife, Maire, while Adam and I went to the bar to order a round. By the time we’d returned with drinks everyone was seated, with Kat at one end entirely surrounded by large, freshly showered, hungry-looking men. I took the only available space at the opposite end of the table with the girls.

  Even from a distance I could tell Kat was out of her comfort zone – she sat very still, head held high and her posture perfect; given a choice she preferred to sit with her back to a wall. But she smiled often, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright, as she sipped a single Archers and lemonade and soaked up the banter around her. It hurt to think that this was all new to Kat – that she’d never experienced the simple pleasure of a drink in a pub with friends before; she’d admitted as much this afternoon. And that wasn’t all she’d missed out on: dinner in restaurants, trips to the theatre, days at the seaside, college, concerts, parties, festivals, driving lessons, learning to swim – so many things. But it was thoughts of the ugly things she’d experienced instead, the things she wouldn’t talk about, that really worried me.

  I still only knew the basics – that she’d gone straight from school to poorly paid menial labour, to living on the street, to an abusive marriage. We’d both been abandoned as children and my subsequent life had not been perfect but it was a holiday camp compared to hers. I desperately wanted to help her, make it up to her, and shoulder her pain. And not just because I felt guilty for leaving her behind all those years ago but because she was important to me, and becoming more so by the day. If I was honest that realisation made me uneasy.

  Turning away from Kat, I swallowed a third of my pint and focused instead on the person sat beside me. Poppy, Adam’s younger sister, was here to chauffeur her brother home and usually only allowed him one drink before leaving but it was his birthday so tonight she’d stayed to socialise. As a child she was chatty and excitable, like Adam, with cute freckles across her nose and curly red hair – always wanting to tag along. It’d been a long time since we’d seen each other and in the intervening years she had blossomed into a bubbly young woman: her freckles concealed under make-up, hair tamed straight, and new curves in all the right places.

  As Poppy babbled on, enthusing about her new job as an events planner, relaying tales of various disasters and making me laugh, I became aware that she was flirting. All the signs were there – the way she kept blushing; stroking her hair; touching my arm; glancing at my mouth while I was talking. I didn’t mind; it was harmless; nothing would ever come of it and I was grateful for the distraction. It helped keep my mind off the enigmatic and bewildering woman seated at the other end of the table. I was on my third pint by the time Poppy tried to foist her number on me.

  I raised an eyebrow at her. ‘What for?’

  ‘Just in case you need an event organising,’ she said, colour rising to her face.

  ‘Don’t you have a business card you can give me?’

  ‘I’m just getting some new ones printed.’

  ‘I’m sure I could get your number from Adam if –’

  ‘Look, just put my number in your phone and then you’ve got it if you need it, OK?’ Poppy said, exasperated.

  ‘OK, OK.’ Amused I stretched out my leg and reached in my pocket while Maire grinned at us from across the table. ‘Shit, I’ve left my phone at the club.’

  ‘Oh shut up!’ Poppy laughed. ‘Stop teasing.’

  ‘No I’m serious,’ I said getting to my feet and grabbing my jacket. ‘I’ll be back in a bit.’

  My gut tightened as I moved over to where Liam and Kat sat together in conversation. I explained I’d left my mobile in the club changing room and Liam passed me the keys so that I could go and retrieve it.

  ‘Will you be OK? I’ll be as quick as I can,’ I said to Kat, feeling strangely anxious, as ever, about leaving her alone. She nodded and smiled and, as I left under a steadily darkening sky, a voice in my mind pointed out that she wasn’t alone this time.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Liam was describing the landscaping commission he’d recently landed. It sounded impressive – a rambling old estate of some kind – but he seemed reluctant to go into detail about the project and, in all honesty, I was too distracted to fully concentrate on our falterin
g conversation.

  Rugby practice had been quite the experience. I’d never taken much interest in sport before but seeing Jamie and his equally full-bodied teammates interact was enthralling and undeniably sexy. It was the camaraderie and respect between the men; the way they controlled their physical strength and power with focus and determination, not to mention the visual feast of meaty thighs, broad shoulders and tight bums. The heady fug of testosterone that now surrounded me in the pub garden was almost too much for my newly awakened body to endure.

  If I was really honest with myself it was Jamie himself that was the main attraction. No matter how much I tried to fight it, I was unbearably, uncomfortably, achingly aroused by him in a way my body would not let me deny. But I didn’t want to think of him that way; it wasn’t helpful, especially if he was about to have a child with another woman. Observing a pretty redhead fawning all over him was not helping either.

  Jamie suddenly stood up and I concentrated on masking my thoughts behind a smile as he approached.

  ‘Liam, do you still have the key for the clubhouse? I’ve left my phone behind.’

  ‘Yeah sure.’ Standing Liam retrieved a bunch of keys from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to Jamie.

  He thanked him before turning to me. ‘Will you be OK? I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and followed him with my eyes as he walked away, wishing I was going with him.

  As I struggled to focus on the conversation around me, the storm that had been brewing all day finally broke above our heads. As the thunder clapped and rain poured out of the sky, I was jostled indoors along with everyone else, clutching my drink and hoping Jamie had made it back to the rugby club in time to stay dry.

  The White Bear was old-fashioned and modestly sized with a low ceiling and even lower exposed beams. The air was stuffy with stale heat and the windows fogged with condensation as we piled in, dripping moisture onto the floorboards. Adam, the birthday boy, who was drunk and speaking too loud, ushered me onto a velvet-covered bench along the back wall. I intended to shuffle along to the far end of the seat but before I had a chance another rugby player, whose name I couldn’t remember, sat down on the other side of me with a wink. As the rest of our ramshackle group dragged tables closer together, pulled up more chairs and stools and settled themselves noisily around me, I began to feel trapped, hemmed in on all sides. They chatted and joked with one another, drowning out the background music with their voices, filling up the air so that I couldn’t breathe.

  With Adam too close beside me I tried to keep a smile on my face and concentrated on inhaling and exhaling. I’d assumed I’d be perfectly fine without Jamie for a few minutes but now I felt lost, out of my depth, and anxious without him. How much longer would he be? I needed to see his eyes, feel his calm, protective gaze on my skin. Without him I didn’t belong here – these were his people; his friends, not mine – I was an imposter.

  Lester’s wife, Maire, was seated across the table from me and, like her brother-in-law, seemed to favour orange juice over alcohol. She seemed kind and sensible, her soft Irish accent hypnotic, and although she was clearly curious to know more about me, so far, she had refrained from bombarding me with personal questions. But right now Maire was deep in conversation with the pretty girl who had been flirting with Jamie all evening. I gathered her name was Poppy and although we hadn’t been properly introduced, and I knew it was irrational, I already resented her – the way she was with Jamie made me sick with jealousy.

  Both women looked relaxed and stylish; their natural-looking make-up perfectly applied, matching designer sunglasses perched on their heads and expensive-looking wristwatches glinting. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but they laughed often, occasionally glancing in my direction as they sipped their drinks. I tried to convince myself to speak to them but I couldn’t think of anything to say so I anxiously scanned the crowd for Jamie’s best mate Liam instead. His stooped head and shoulders stood out above the crowd at the bar, where he was chatting with his brother, but he was several feet away with his back to me. Why did Jamie want me here? What made him think I would fit in? The other night when he’d found out he might be a dad he’d been worried he wasn’t up to it; that there was something wrong with him. But that wasn’t true. Jamie had escaped foster care; he’d been adopted; grown up with these people – he was one of them. I was the black sheep here.

  Adam suddenly threw a heavy arm around me, making me jolt. ‘Kat, lovely Kat, how are you doing? You’re as quiet as a mouse this evening.’ His wet mouth was close to my ear and his armpit clammy at my shoulder.

  As nausea surged up in my stomach I smiled tightly; his slurred voice triggered memories and emotions that I had worked hard to forget. I was cornered, vulnerable; there was nowhere to go. Alarm pulsed in my chest and ears as I tried to suppress the urge to vomit in my lap. Briefly I considered slipping down off my seat and crawling away under the table like a child but that would be ridiculous.

  ‘Where’d you come from eh? I can tell you’re not from around here.’

  ‘Leave her be, Adam,’ Maire said.

  ‘What? I’m just being friendly.’ He laughed, his breath hot and beery on my cheek.

  ‘Please don’t.’ My nails dug into my flesh as my panic levels rose.

  ‘What was that?’ Adam said, leaning his face closer into mine to hear. And that was when something snapped inside me. Abruptly I launched myself out of my seat and on to my feet, taking the edge of the table with me. There was an almighty crash and the dramatic sound of glasses smashing as the table upended and people gasped as I pushed through a sea of shocked faces and fought my way to the door without looking back. Outside I didn’t stop moving until I found myself on the far side of the pub garden, gasping for breath, trembling with adrenalin, and alone in the wet, encroaching night. As reality hit me, I collapsed with weary shame inside the shelter of a covered bench, covering my eyes with my hand. Fuck. I groaned as the horrified facial expressions of Jamie’s friends burned into my mind. Even if my husband’s ‘friends’ did silence him for ever, there was no way I could stay here now – I was an embarrassment, a liability, a freak show. Maybe it was for the best.

  A low gentle voice interrupted my mounting despair. ‘Do you mind if I sit down?’

  Liam stood a few feet away from me, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched against the rain. I liked Liam and couldn’t let him stand there getting soaked so I shifted over to one side of the seat. Wordlessly he came over, folded up his large body and sat down beside me, far enough away that we weren’t touching.

  For a while we just sat in silence, staring out at the rain. I picked absently at the frayed edge of my plaster cast and listened to the thunder as it rumbled across the sky. Eventually Liam spoke without facing me.

  ‘Anything I can do to help?’

  His compassion was unexpected and I didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Look, I don’t know exactly what happened in there – from what I gather Adam was being a twat – but I just wanted to say not to worry about it. It doesn’t matter, no one got hurt and no one’s bothered. You can come back inside if you want – no one’s going to hold it against you.’

  ‘But, I –’ my voice sounded shaky and I cleared my throat. ‘I freaked out completely.’

  ‘Hey, like I said, no real harm done. We all lose it from time to time and, anyway, it livened up an otherwise dull evening.’

  I couldn’t help smiling. ‘That’s kind of you to say but I doubt anyone else sees it that way.’

  ‘You’re wrong – they’re a friendly bunch and you’re here with James; that makes you one of us, part of the family.’ His words pierced me. I’d never had a family before.

  ‘I don’t think he’ll want me to stick around; not after the way I’ve behaved – it’s probably best if I just go.’

  Liam shook his head. ‘Don’t do that.’

  Belatedly I remembered that Liam’s ex-gi
rlfriend Cally had run out on him three months previously and felt a pang of sympathy for him.

  ‘Kat, I don’t know what the history is between you two but –’

  ‘What do you mean, history?’ I interrupted. Jamie had promised not to tell anyone about my past.

  ‘Well, no offence, but you just turned up out of the blue one day and moved in with him. I figure there must be some kind of history. Besides you only have to look at the way you two are around each other to know you’re not exactly strangers.’

  Curiosity got the better of me. ‘How do you mean?’

  Liam shrugged. ‘The way you’re always so aware of each other, even across a rugby pitch; the way you sometimes look at one another, kinda solemn and tender at the same time; the way he lights up when you call him Jamie instead of James… Like I say, I don’t know your history. I don’t need to know – I can tell that James cares about you way more than any of the girlfriends he’s introduced to me in the past. He’s happier than I’ve ever known him and I can’t see him giving you up over some minor understanding. I would hope he’s smarter than that anyway.’

  At some point the rain had stopped. Liam’s insight was comforting and made me cautiously hopeful that I might not have wrecked everything after all. As I tried to find the words to thank him, Jamie emerged from the back door of the White Bear. My heart rate picked up pace as he jogged across the wet grass and through the gloom towards us.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  I held my jacket up over my head to fend off the worst of the rain as I returned to the White Bear. Assuming that our party must have relocated inside I turned towards the front entrance but a movement in the garden caught my eye, stopping me in my tracks. As the rain eased I could just make out two people sitting side by side in an arbour in the gathering dusk. A bitter pain pierced my chest as I recognised Kat and my so-called best mate, Liam, sitting alone together in the dark.