Entwined under my duvet in the afterglow, we talked into the early hours, drank more brandy and drifting off peacefully, I enjoyed the best sleep ever.
There were no nightmares, just a warm secure feeling.
What happened with Sam chased my demons away, awakening a hidden sexuality in me I had never known existed...
Waking up next day, I was already lost in an emotional storm. And that was before life took an unexpected new twist.
Reaching across the pillow, I was startled to discover Sam’s side of the bed empty, the sheet rumpled and cool.
Where was he? Surely he wouldn’t have abandoned me so readily?
I sat up in bed, feeling a tightness in my chest, my initial reaction panic.
Unsure what to do, I scrambled for my mobile. It wasn’t in its usual place, which sent me reeling into the lounge. Yet there was no sign of him there, either.
Spotting my mobile on the coffee table, on charge, I took deep breaths, refusing to succumb to the fear creeping over me. His car was gone. Yet as my mind picked over the events of last night it was hard to believe he would just vanish again.
Mercifully, the fear was short-lived - because Sam did return, the buzz of the intercom bringing me swiftly to my feet.
“W-where have you been?” I spluttered.
Although desperate to appear calm, I could hear the tremor in my voice.
“Where d’you think?” he tried to humour me. “I called the AA. Had my car towed to a local garage to get my tyre sorted. You weren’t worried, were you?”
“You could have told me,” I whimpered.
Taking my face in his hands, he smiled down gently.
“You were sound asleep,” he protested, “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Only when I gazed at the clock did it strike me how late I had slept. Ten o’ clock on a Saturday wouldn’t be unusual... except it was nearly noon.
Once the preliminary shock fell away, we took time to consider where we were going with this. There was no question last night had been a turning point, the promise of a relationship dangling.
Yet neither of us felt like staying in Bognor.
The memory of Sam’s car being vandalised was still raw. Furthermore, we had Joe and Jess to think about, and we wondered aloud whether we ought to contact them.
Of course if we did, they would likely want to hook up again.
“Maybe not,” Sam muttered. “We’ll only end up chewing over the investigation and if I’m honest, it would be nice to forget about that stuff for a while...”
I couldn’t have agreed more, and with the flames of our newly found passion smouldering, I wanted him all to myself. Luckily Sam felt the same way, and with this in mind, he suggested slipping away to his London residence.
All things considered, it turned out to be a good decision.
How I loved Sam’s house, a much needed change of scenery. Split into three roomy apartments, two rented, his dwelling covered the ground floor.
Unlocking the front door, he had guided me into the living area. Sunlight flooded the lounge, casting a shine over the parquet flooring. With smooth plastered walls, painted lemon and grey, it had a light airy feel and was well-designed for modern living. An archway led to a corridor, various doors branching into other rooms.
“This is lovely,” I murmured, “and so peaceful. It’s hard to imagine we’re in London.”
Wandering to the kitchen at the rear of the house, I saw patio doors leading to a decking area. It overlooked a tidy garden, and as Sam switched the kettle on, leaving me to absorb it all, I couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to live here.
“So what d’you fancy doing later?” he murmured, a gleam in his eye. “We could order a pizza, watch movies on Netflix...”
I felt a smile slip onto my face, recalling the wide screen TV in the lounge, embedded in the chimney breast.
“Or maybe have an early night?”
“I wouldn’t mind doing all three,” I mused.
As he returned my smile, I decided there was no going back. Sam and I were together now, and even with the threat our enemies encroaching, nothing could ruin this happy moment.
Oh, that pivotal weekend... It had kindled the start of a relationship.
As we drifted into Sunday, I found myself lost in the study of Sam’s face, still glowing from the pleasurable hours we had spent entangled in each other’s arms – and he swore that even if we lived apart for the time being, he would stick by me.
“So what now?” I challenged him. “Much as I love my home, Bognor feels like a very dark place after what happened on Friday.”
I had to think about the logistics, though. For however appealing Sam’s home seemed, its North London location posed a problem. Touring the city next day, I felt my enthusiasm begin to wane. The tube journey alone from north to south took us forty-five minutes, and adding in the train ride from Victoria, I could be facing a two and a half hour commute each way. My heart sank.
Standing on the platform to say farewell, even I saw the impracticality.
“Just go back to work and act normal for now,” he consoled me. “Leave this with me to have a think about and I promise I’ll find a solution.”
******
Of all the scenarios that might have arisen, though, I had never imagined taking up residence where we did, or that in seven days time we would be waking up in a very different bed. Wrapped in softness, the pillows felt plump, the sheets luxuriously soft. I stretched out my limbs. Wiggled my toes beneath the covers, the temptation to open my eyes growing.
To think, it had happened so fast.
Yet within the space of another week and with barely enough time to gather my thoughts together, I saw my whole life change beyond recognition. One day I would look back on all this, amazed how cleverly we had been reeled in. But everything came to a head the following weekend, when Sam drove down to visit me.
What a glorious day that was, the sun blazing high in the sky as birds flitted in and out of the trees. Delighted to spend the weekend with him, I could not suppress my glee – even more so when he suggested another ride around Sussex. Only this time he was very secretive about our destination.
Following the main road out of Chichester, he took a sudden bend to the right.
“Pook Lane,” I said, reading the sign post, “why are we going to East Lavant?”
“You’ll see.”
He must have known he couldn’t keep me in the dark much longer. But reminding me of his role as an estate agent, he mentioned a property near the village, one he had been hankering to take a look at.
“Sorry to talk shop,” he said, “but I need to suss this out. It belongs to a colleague, a top lawyer. Charges £250 per hour for his services, mostly in land and property disputes, so he’s absolutely minted.”
As we drove a little further, the lane opened up into a quintessential English village. A pretty stone bridge crossed the river, clear water trickling over the pebbles, reflecting sparkles of sunlight. My eyes danced, drinking in the houses, the church looming opposite. I loved the open space; the meadows peppered with daisies, the tall but charming flint walls where moss, ivy and clumps of flowers fought for space between the cobbles.
“This is beautiful,” I breathed, “and so quiet.”
The next time Sam looked at me, his eyes shone with affection. “Now wait until you see the house...”
Crawling steadily onwards, the road was getting narrower. Rows of cottages began to appear, a rank of cars and four-by-fours squeezed into the curb. Traffic wasn’t an issue in a tiny hamlet like this, even with access restricted to single file, and as more of its beauty came to light, Sam could barely wipe the smile off his face. We passed the village pub, white walls smothered in wisteria. Clusters of early summer flowers tumbled over a low flint wall and I felt as if my heart could burst.
Yet gradually the houses petered out.
Leaving the village behind, we were hurtling into the countryside befo
re I knew it; green fields lay on one side, a thickly wooded area on the other. But as the walls of trees escalated, my heart began to pump faster. They hugged the road on both sides now, a tunnel of foliage, sapping the light from the sky.
Only then did I feel a shiver run over me and glanced at Sam with a frown.
“It’s a bit remote out here, isn’t it?”
“Ssh,” he tried to console me and with one hand on the wheel, the other sliding around my shoulder, he gradually began to slow down. “We’re nearly there.”
I kept my eyes shut, reliving the incredible moment that had followed.
When Sam pulled up, my first impression of the property left me speechless. Guarded by a high hedge with the ornamental gates left open, its magnificence was revealed in stages. First we explored the front, an artistically paved area decorated with stone urns. I saw box balls and shrubs in full flower.
“Wow!” he whistled. “Some place this is! Shall we look inside?”
Taking me by the hand, he pulled me towards the door. I glimpsed the fire in his eyes as he delved into his jacket pocket to produce a set of keys, dangling them in temptation in front of my disbelieving eyes.
“This is just his weekend cottage,” he kept smiling. “Craig and his wife are after a place in France, so they decided to put it on the market.”
“In other words they’ve asked you to value it?” I finished.
The house itself was breathtaking. There was no other word to describe it. A character flint-and-brick property complemented by climbing pink roses. Two rows of mullioned windows sat pleasingly under a terracotta tile roof, and as for the interior... I couldn’t help thinking it resembled something out of a magazine. The rooms were huge with cream walls and oak flooring; a beautiful stone fireplace in the sitting room, alcoves fitted with bookcases.
Spreading my arms wide, I found myself spinning in circles. I was still unsure what we were doing here, but as we explored the property further, admiring the lovely grounds, I could not help noticing how smug Sam looked.
That was when I twigged he was hiding something.
“Come on! What’s the big secret?”
“He’s not just asked me to value it,” he divulged. “It needs a survey. A bit of renovation work, which he also wants me to oversee - nothing major - just tart up the paintwork and mend a few windows, but do you want to hear the best part?”
I held my breath.
“We can use it as a base while the work is underway.”
A gasp flew from my lips before I knew it. “You mean we can live here?”
“It’ll only be temporary, until it’s ready to go on the market, but can’t you see how perfect this is?” Caught up in his excitement, he grabbed me in a bear hug and swung me off the ground. “It not only gets you away from Bognor, but what a great place for your friend’s foster son when he visits...”
“I can’t believe it,” I mumbled. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” he enthused, “and wait until you see the garden! That’ll need some work too, which can be your project – and another thing. We should invite Joe over to have a look. Maybe we can make use of his handy man skills. Paid, of course!”
I could have laughed out loud but how could I resist the lure of the garden? Fully enclosed, it was in need of a prune but I could not help wondering what it would look like with the addition of a few perennial flower borders.
Immediately I was mesmerised, thinking back to my foster parents’ home and the hours they had spent making it beautiful...
Yes, that house had been a dream.
There was no way I could let such an opportunity pass me by. So once agreed, we had sped back to Bognor. Stopping only briefly, I packed a couple of cases, eager to return to East Lavant and spend the night in our lovely new home.
Reality blinked on Sunday, forcing my eyes open, but as the new day dawned I clung to that moment. Breathing deeply, I allowed my senses to tune into my new surroundings, the world still a little blurry around the edges.
Here there was no traffic, just a whisper of wind in the trees and the melodic chirp of birdsong.
And I felt as if I had awoken in heaven.
Chapter Fifty-Five
The first sight of Maisie’s new home stole the breath from Joe’s lungs. Thinking back, their lives had changed dramatically since that fated reunion in London. Yet never in his wildest dreams had he imagined it would scatter them like this.
His weekends with Jess had sown the seed, until she had boldly asked him to move in. Now here they were, admiring this charming country house.
It all seemed a little too good to be true.
Maisie, on the other hand, looked ecstatic but then, why shouldn’t she? Anxious and alone in Bognor, she must have thought she had struck gold when Sam rolled up, her knight in shining armour.
“What do you think, Joe?” asked Sam, snapping him out of his reverie.
Joe blinked, stunned by his surroundings.
“Wicked,” he grinned. “How the fuck did you manage to stumble across a place like this, and right on the outskirts of Chichester?”
For some reason Sam did not smile back. “Dealing in property, you ‘stumble across’ all sorts of places, but at the end of the day I’m helping an associate. I guess one good turn deserves another.”
“I see,” Joe muttered, following him through to the dining room.
Jess trailed along in his wake, heels clicking across the polished oak floors, as they wandered from the dining room to the kitchen. Crossing the threshold, she stopped dead, her eyes virtually popping out on stalks.
“Oh wowsers!” she spluttered. “Just look at that kitchen!”
Joe followed her gaze. Like every other room in the house, it was huge, and fully equipped with top of the range appliances. Recessed spotlights drew circles of light onto the granite work surfaces. He turned and spotted Maisie again. Adjusting the controls on a slow cooker, she looked up.
“Wonderful isn’t it?” she said.
“Cooking a cracking Sunday lunch too, aren’t you, my lovely?” Sam purred.
Her eyes glowed. “Mandy sent a recipe for a chicken hot pot. I’ve never use one of these...” As she lifted the lid slightly, a rich smell of wine, garlic and herbs spiralled into the air. “But let’s go outside first. I can’t wait to show you the garden.”
Captured in the moment, Jess seized Joe’s hand, dragging him through the patio doors, where a path led to the lawn. The grounds were undeniably picturesque; hedges crisp against a blue sky, the roses in bloom and a summer house on one side. Yet as Joe’s eyes travelled further, he drank in the encircling woods.
The impression of a hidden track lingered on the other side of the hedge, a single oak tree soaring above the laurels. He turned away with a frown. Something about the atmosphere unnerved him, but he could not quite put his finger on it.
Sam, meanwhile, was in full flow, and as if to further justify their landing in such a remarkable home, spoke of the renovation work required.
“Would you be interested in helping out, Joe?” he asked him directly.
“It’d be my pleasure, mate,” Joe nodded.
Turning his attention back to the house, he began to scrutinise the exterior more closely. However beautiful it might have appeared at first, the paintwork was flaking in places, and there were clear signs of decay around some of the windows.
“Those frames are gonna need sanding down first and an application of wood filler,” he added, pointing to the top window. “Give ‘em a couple of coats of gloss and they’ll look as good as new...”
“Brilliant,” Sam responded. “I hoped you’d say that, and it’s paid work. Craig is in control of the budget but would twenty pounds an hour be enough?”
Joe gaped at him in disbelief. “That’d be great! So when can I start?”
“I’ll let you know,” Sam said. “The sooner the better really. I just need to organise a survey first - consult the owner and get paint samples.”
&n
bsp; Sam didn’t quite meet his eye but Joe clocked that twinkle, delighted he had included someone else in his project.
“So how long do you reckon you’ll be living here,” he couldn’t resist asking.
Settled in chairs around a beautiful walnut dining table, he revelled in the prospect of doing some work on this house.
Sam gave a shrug. “Who knows? Obviously it won’t be permanent, but a few months maybe...” He took a swallow of wine, a particularly smooth red. “The only stumbling block is the investigation, especially if there’s a trial.”
The words tugged Joe’s head upright. “Was there any more news about your social worker?”
Sam lowered his eyes but not before Joe caught a flicker of darkness in them. “No, nothing, and sorry if I seem evasive but that business hit me hard. I really wanted Yvonne on side...” A muscle twitched in his jaw.
“Try not to let it upset you,” Maisie soothed. “We’ll just have to wait until the next police report but for now, let’s unwind...” Reaching across the table, she tapped his glass. “Don’t you think Sam’s done wonders getting us this place? It’s only a ten minute drive to my office.”
Yes, very convenient.
Fizzing with excitement, she looked happier than he had seen her in a long time, simultaneously hopping in and out of the kitchen.
“I guess you’ll be commuting, then,” he said to Sam.
Their glasses touched briefly, Sam’s expression betraying nothing.
“On and off when time allows, but weekdays I have to be in London.”
Joe froze, flicking another glance at Maisie. “What? Does this mean you’re gonna be stuck out here on your own?”
“I’ll be fine, Joe,” she sighed. “I’ve got work friends nearby, not to forget you two, and you’re always welcome to scoot over. I’m only on the end of a phone.”
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