‘Jed and Alex were going on last night about what a great person you are.’
‘Really? What did Alex say about me?’ I ask. ‘And Jed?’ I add, as a feeling of relief surges through me.
Alex doesn’t think badly of me, after all! Despite the fact he must have seen me almost snogging Jackson on the ice rink!
‘Oh, complimentary things,’ he says vaguely.
‘I don’t know, Jackson. I was devastated by the way you moved on so quickly. To me, it proved you never loved me the way I utterly adored you.’
‘Utterly adored? In the past tense?’ He looks genuinely dismayed. ‘Please tell me you still feel the same way, Roxy. I’ll finish with Sophie, if that’s what it’ll take.’
I stare at him, perplexed.
I’m not Sophie’s biggest fan but she definitely doesn’t deserve to have her Christmas destroyed in that way. And something else is niggling me about this statement, although my head is too muddled right now to think what it is.
But there’s absolutely no denying the way just being close to him makes me feel.
‘Jackson?’ It’s Sophie again, clacking along the hallway.
‘Coming, my gorgeous one,’ calls Jackson. Turning, he’s down the stairs in a flash, leaving my head more confused than ever.
I go to bed and do some deep breathing to try and calm the thoughts going round and round in my head. But two hours later, I’m as wide awake as if I’d just drunk an entire pot of Alex’s favourite super-strong Brazilian blend coffee.
In the end, I give up, slip into my snuggly robe and slippers and pad downstairs. It’s after one and everyone is in bed. Creeping through the silent hall, I can see the welcoming embers of the log fire and, tempted by their cosy glow, I go into the living room and head for the comfiest sofa.
I’m just about to throw myself onto it when I realise someone has got there ahead of me.
Dressed in jeans but with bare feet, Alex is lying the full length of the sofa, linked hands supporting his head as he stares into the flames. He looks so deep in thought, I pause a moment before announcing myself.
He looks up in surprise and when he sees it’s me, he smiles and shifts position so that there’s a space for me to sit down. ‘Hey, what are you doing still up? Couldn’t sleep?’
I shake my head. ‘More to the point, why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be back at the hotel?’
He grins. ‘Back to my lonely single bed, you mean? In the tiny box room that overlooks the bins?’
‘Ah.’ I nod, sitting down and curling into the other end of the sofa. ‘And I bet you paid a single person’s supplement for the privilege.’
‘Got it in one.’ He angles himself towards me, stretching out his arms and long legs, giving a long growl that turns into a yawn. ‘No, I was just really comfortable here and couldn’t bear to move.’
‘Until I came along and ruined it for you.’
He studies me thoughtfully. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’
‘You looked so far away. I’m afraid I interrupted some great thought process.’
He laughs shortly and reaches down for his whisky glass. ‘Nothing you’d be interested in,’ he says, with an odd little smile, before taking a long slug of his drink. ‘Want to join me?’ He holds up the glass.
‘Um, yes, please.’ A nightcap might help me sleep. ‘Just a small one.’
Alex springs to his feet in a waft of some deliciously fragrant man-scent and I settle back against the sofa while he’s gone, staring into the flames.
He comes back in and hands me a glass. Then he sits back down and reaches for his whisky and we both stare into the log fire.
‘How are you and Jackson?’ he asks after a while. ‘Do you think you two might get back together?’
I glance at him, taken aback. ‘What makes you think that?’ Is it that obvious there’s still something between Jackson and me?
Alex shrugs. ‘I just get the impression there’s unfinished business there, that’s all.’
I avoid his eye, pretending I’m mesmerised by the flames. ‘With supermodel Sophie on the scene? I don’t think so.’ I try – but fail – to keep my tone free of bitterness.
‘Don’t run yourself down. You have loads of qualities she doesn’t have,’ he murmurs. ‘You’re just very – um – different.’
‘Yes, I’m three stone heavier with no dress sense whatsoever,’ I say, wheeling out my joke of earlier that fell completely flat.
Alex laughs. It’s a lovely rich sound that mingles with the crackling of the fire and calms my agitated heart. ‘That’s not what I meant. And you know it.’ He wags a finger, pretending to be cross with me.
‘Well, you deserve to be happy, too, especially after your – erm – broken engagement.’
He smiles wistfully and runs a hand through his dark blond hair. ‘You mean Milly.’
‘Lovely name.’
‘Lovely girl,’ he says wholeheartedly. ‘Just not for me, as it turned out.’
‘What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.’
‘No, I don’t mind,’ he says softly. ‘You’ve got something on your cheek, by the way.’ He indicates the spot on his own face.
‘Probably mascara.’ I lick my finger and attempt to rub it off. ‘Gone?’
‘Gone. But you’ve also got some here.’ He points at a spot beside his ear and I’m starting to rub at it before realising he’s having me on.
‘Idiot,’ I laugh. ‘Did I really have mascara on my cheek?’
He grins. ‘You did. The first time.’
‘So what about Milly?’
‘Ah, yes. Milly.’ He does a languorous stretch and I notice the well-defined muscles in his upper arms.
‘You weren’t trying to avoid the subject by any chance, were you? With your mascara distraction tactics?’
He pushes out his lips thoughtfully. ‘Maybe.’
‘So what happened? Sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’
‘No, I’d like to.’
I smile. ‘It’s probably a bit ghoulish but ever since Jackson and I split up, I’ve been fascinated by other people’s break-up stories.’
‘Weirdo.’
‘I know. It takes one to know one, though.’
He shifts position so his elbow is on the back of the sofa, supporting his head. ‘Well, Roxy, to satisfy your ghoulish fascination … Milly was the love of my life. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful and she certainly wasn’t a supermodel, but she was my idea of complete perfection. She was quirky and interesting and a little bit unpredictable. And she liked to braid her hair and dye it a different colour practically every week. I’m sure lots of people thought she was a weirdo. Not that they’d tell me that. Obviously. But I loved her sharp wit and the way she never took life too seriously. And her uncompromising loyalty to the people and things she believed in. And the way she never sulked after we’d argued. She’d blow up and then it would all be over. She was lovely.’ He smiles wistfully. ‘Still is, I imagine.’
‘She sounds amazing. You must really miss her.’
‘I did. Horribly. For a long time. But I knew it would never work in the long run.’
‘Why wouldn’t it?’
He shrugs. ‘We wanted different things. She was clear right from the start that she never wanted to have children and, at first, I was okay with that. Milly wanted us to travel the world, not be tied down in one place with kids. But I come from a big tribe, with two brothers and a sister and loads of nephews and nieces – and the idea of never being able to be a dad myself began to niggle at me. And, eventually, it became too big an issue to ignore.’ He pauses. ‘But fair play to her. She stuck to what she wanted deep down and I admire her for that.’
I nod sadly, thinking of Milly, who’s clearly an extraordinary sort of person. There can’t be many women who’d give up the love of a gorgeous man like Alex to follow their dreams and ideals.
‘Such a shame. She must miss you terribly.’
; Alex sighs. ‘Maybe.’ Then he grins. ‘She won’t be missing the way I have to take my socks off wherever I go.’
We look at his feet.
They’re actually quite attractive feet. Well-shaped with neatly clipped toenails. Not like some men’s feet, which are truly gnarled and ugly.
‘I presume not everywhere,’ I say. ‘I mean, you wouldn’t take your socks off on public transport?’
‘Depends on the length of the journey.’
‘Weirdo.’
Later, I lie in bed, lulled by the effects of the whisky, thinking what a truly nice man Alex Webster is. Milly must have been mad to let him go. It’s such a shame he’s returning to Australia after the Christmas break.
I could do with a male friend like him …
Chapter 17
Next morning, I’m up early.
When I go down to the kitchen, Poppy’s nowhere in sight. But Alex is sitting at the breakfast bar in jeans and a T-shirt – with bare feet, of course – cradling a mug.
‘Morning. Hope you slept eventually.’ He grins at me then raises his hands above his head in a huge stretch. Admiring his muscle definition again, I wonder if he works out or maybe plays some kind of sport.
‘I did, thank you. How was it on the sofa?’
He shrugs. ‘Fine. Although to be honest, I could have slept on a tightrope, I was so knackered.’
‘Oh, dear. I hope I didn’t wear you out.’
He flashes me a look I can’t quite interpret. Then he says, ‘I enjoyed your company.’
‘Me, too.’ I smile, remembering our easy banter. ‘You’d make someone a lovely boyfriend.’
He looks down into his mug but I can tell he’s pleased.
I fill the kettle then I turn, leaning back against the worktop. ‘Speaking of boyfriends, do you know what Jackson’s doing today?’
He looks confused for a second. ‘Erm, not sure. Did you want to talk to him?’
He’s looking at me intently, and I suddenly realise what I said.
‘I didn’t mean Jackson was my boyfriend. I mean, quite clearly he’s not.’ I force a laugh. ‘I just meant … oh, I don’t know.’
Feeling unaccountably flustered, I turn back to make my tea, which I always have first thing.
Alex clears his throat. ‘I’m heading back to the hotel after this. I can give him a message if you like.’
‘No, no. It’s fine.’ Why on earth did I even mention Jackson? It must have sounded to Alex like I have ideas of getting him back. Which possibly I have. But I didn’t want Alex to know that! I take a gulp of my tea, which mysteriously turns out to be coffee. I must have spooned in granules without realising.
‘Right, I need to get back.’ Alex slides off the stool and heads for the door. ‘See you later, Roxy.’ He smiles but there’s a tension in his expression that wasn’t there last night. Perhaps he’s just tired after sleeping on the sofa.
I take my coffee-disguised-as-tea over to the seat he’s just vacated and sit there, sipping my hot drink, staring out at the snowy scene beyond the big picture window. The story Alex told me about having to break up with the charismatic Milly is still haunting me. Their relationship has a kind of romantic ‘star-crossed lovers’ aura in my imagination. It’s all so tragic. They probably would never have split up if Milly had wanted kids. How do you get over someone who was so special to you?
I’m not sure I ever felt a sense of ‘epic love story’ with Jackson and me.
Flo thought Jackson and I were meant for each other, though. She was quite upset when it ended. Although I think that was probably because she’d thought that, at long last, I’d finally found a man capable of breaking down the barriers I’d built up ever since the accident.
Later, I’m in the kitchen with Poppy when Clemmy comes in for a glass of water, dressed in her running gear, her eyes looking suspiciously red.
‘Are you okay, hun?’ asks Poppy.
Clemmy shakes her head and takes a long glug of water. Then she turns, her face full of despair. ‘Ryan and I had our first argument. And, to be honest, I think it was my fault. I just feel so irritable all the time.’
‘That’s probably because you’re hungry,’ I point out.
She nods wearily. ‘I’m actually starving. All the time. I must be suffering withdrawal symptoms.’
‘So eat something, Clem,’ urges Poppy.
‘I really want to.’ She stares longingly at the mince pies cooling on racks nearby, looking as if she might cry. Then she folds her arms. ‘I can’t! I need to lose the weight.’ The agony on her face reveals the full extent of the conflict that’s raging in her head.
‘You should do it slowly, though, and eat lots of healthy food,’ I say, holding out the plate of mince pies. I frown at them. ‘Sorry, I know they’re not especially healthy, but a little of what you fancy definitely does you good …’
Clemmy stares at the plate.
I wiggle it a bit. And Poppy says, ‘Go on. We won’t tell. And anyway, crash diets never work.’
Just as Clemmy reaches out, the door opens and Sophie marches in.
‘Clementine!’ she barks, and Clemmy freezes in shock and pulls back her hand.
‘Gosh, they’re – um – so tempting, Roxy.’ She looks flushed and guilty. ‘But thank you, Sophie, for stopping me.’
‘You’re welcome,’ says Sophie smoothly. ‘You know, we did a survey at the magazine with incredibly revealing results. Apparently, if you’re fat when you walk down the aisle, you’re fifty per cent more likely to be cheated on by your husband in the first year of marriage.’
Clemmy’s eyes open wide in horror. ‘Really? God, that’s terrible.’
‘Doesn’t say much for the men,’ murmurs Poppy.
Sophie gives a superior shrug.
‘I’m going for another run,’ says Clemmy with new resolve.
‘Clem, you did a three-mile run this morning already,’ Poppy points out gently.
‘Have you had any breakfast?’ I ask.
‘Oh, yes, I did, Roxy. I had a green smoothie.’ She glances at Sophie. ‘And I’ve lost five pounds already!’
She dives out of the door, already jogging.
‘How many people did you survey to get those crushing statistics?’ Poppy asks Sophie. ‘I can’t believe men are that shallow.’
Sophie is tip-tapping to the door in her skyscraper heels. She turns and gives a thin smile. ‘They’re not. I made it up.’
I stare at her in disbelief. ‘But why? Poor Clemmy looked horrified.’
‘Good. She needs to lose that blubber.’ There’s not a hint of shame in her expression. ‘Think about it. There’s no actual point in running a feature where the “after” pictures are the same as the “before”.’ She flicks back her hair and walks out of the kitchen.
Poppy and I stare after her, dumbstruck.
‘What a piece of work,’ murmurs Poppy at last.
‘Nothing else matters but the magazine. Not even people’s feelings.’
‘Especially not people’s feelings!’
‘Clemmy hardly ate a thing at dinner last night. Did you notice?’
Poppy nods. ‘I’ve never seen her refuse dessert. And it was your glorious apple crumble cake, too!’
My heart lifts at Poppy’s praise for my dessert. It was a miracle I got away with it! Luckily, the cake was huge, so there’s lots left over for tonight, which means I don’t have the same pressure to be creative like I did yesterday.
‘So what are you going to do about Jackson?’ she asks suddenly.
I swallow hard. ‘Not sure. He says he’s missed me and wants me back.’
‘It looked pretty intense between you when I saw you on the ice.’ She grins. ‘I thought you were going to melt the rink away.’
‘He’s with Sophie.’ I shrug helplessly.
Poppy looks at me as if I’m a mince pie short of a full Tupperware. ‘Roxy. You’re not going to let her stand in your way of happiness, I hope. Do you love him?’
&nbs
p; I think hard before I answer. Then, cautiously, I say, ‘I’ve longed to hear him say he never stopped caring.’
‘Well, then, go for it! What’s stopping you, Roxy?’
I smile wistfully at her. It’s not as simple as that. If Jackson were to break up with Sophie, then the way would be clear for us. But his comment, ‘I’ll finish with Sophie, if that’s what it will take’, has been niggling away at me ever since he said it. If Jackson really has had a big ‘light-bulb moment’ when he’s realised his future lies with me and not with Sophie, shouldn’t he be honest with her, instead of pretending everything’s normal – just in case I say no? It makes me uneasy.
I put Jackson on a pedestal when I first met him, thinking he was Mr Perfect, but now, I’m starting to notice little things about him that don’t quite sit with that description. Not that anyone is ‘perfect’, of course …
But isn’t that all perfectly normal? In the first flush of romance, you see this wonderful person who’s added sparkle to your life through a slightly blurred lens. They can do no wrong because you’re carried away by these delicious feelings of love and attraction.
And then reality kicks in and you have to work out if you have enough in common to go the distance …
Poppy’s waiting for an answer.
I shrug. ‘I don’t want to cause an upset before Clemmy and Ryan’s party. They should be the focus of people’s attention right now – not me and Jackson.’
It all sounds a bit lame, even to me. But the truth is, I’m scared. My heart is still healing from the break-up. Can I really risk getting back with Jackson only for the same thing to happen all over again?
‘And I need to work out how I feel,’ I add.
Poppy nods. ‘You and me both.’ She stares away at the lake beyond the window.
‘Are you still determined to keep the baby a secret from Jed?’
‘I don’t know what else I can do,’ she says slowly. ‘I don’t want Jed feeling he has to make a commitment to me just because there’s a baby on the way.’
She turns, her eyes full of torment. ‘Oh God, I love him so much, Roxy, and it’s killing me not being able to tell him he’s going to be a dad. But I just can’t …’
Second Chances at the Log Fire Cabin Page 14