GIs and Ginger Beer, page 8
Ashley looked around at the theatre’s dark, moody interior. ‘It’s a big space to fill if you don’t get many coming.’
‘We’ll stay on the stage if that’s the case. And maybe meet in the café another time if the numbers are low. But Mike Love’s offered me the theatre for nothing tonight, so I thought I’d give it a try.’
‘It’s a bit shabby.’
‘Get you, Little Miss Positive! Theatres always look shabby when there’s nothing going on,’ Petra said, refusing to be deflated. ‘They depend on people to bring them to life.’ She looked up. ‘And at least the ceiling’s been fixed. Apparently, there was a bad leak last year. They ended up performing outside in the square.’
‘The square’s lovely. It made the perfect backdrop for the veterans’ afternoon tea.’
‘But the acoustics in here are better,’ Petra insisted. ‘And we’ve got the bar area to make tea and coffee in the break. It’s also more contained. I’ve a feeling it might be like herding cats until I get them sorted.’ She elbowed Ashley. ‘You’re a right ray of sunshine tonight. What’s the matter?’
Ashley couldn’t answer. She didn’t know why, but the empty theatre was giving her the creeps. It reminded her of when she used to go into school to work during the summer holidays. The same expectant, hushed atmosphere, the same feeling of not knowing what was in the shadowy corners. ‘I’m not sure.’ She shook herself. ‘Maybe I still haven’t got over Jake painting my soul and exposing it to the world.’
‘Your portrait’s that good? Can’t wait to see it.’
‘It’s fine, if you don’t mind your insides being ripped out and put on display.’
‘Then maybe what you need is a good old singsong.’ Petra slid off the stage and put a hand up to Ashley to help her. Turning at the sound of voices at the door, she added, ‘And I believe here come our first punters.’
In all, about thirty turned up. Petra was thrilled. She ran through a few things before they began, explaining it was all about fun and having a good time, and not about singing perfectly.
‘Don’t you need a piano?’ Biddy barked out.
‘We could use a piano but it isn’t necessary. We can sing to soundtracks.’
‘Can we sing some new stuff?’ Zoe asked.
‘I’m happy for suggestions of things to try. I draw the line at opera, though.’
‘I draw the line at opera too,’ Millie protested.
‘Oh, I adore opera,’ said a woman Ashley didn’t know. She’d introduced herself as Marti Cavendish. ‘In fact, I considered a career in it. I’ve been told I have quite the voice.’
Biddy harrumphed loudly. ‘Balderdash,’ she said, not quietly enough.
‘Are you sure you should be here, Millie?’ Amy from the bookshop asked in concern. ‘You look fit to burst.’
‘I’ve tried everything to get this baby out,’ Millie sighed, rubbing her enormous bump. ‘Hot baths, curry, all the usual tricks. So tonight, I’m trying to sing on a contraction.’
Ennis Senior, the only man present, put his hand up. ‘I’m a qualified first aider,’ he offered, in a quavering voice. ‘It comes in handy down the allotments now and again. I can help if push comes to shove.’ Then he blushed as he realised what he’d said.
Beryl hooted. ‘If push comes to shove we’ll all rally round, my lovely.’ She looked at the assembled group. ‘There’s enough experience here. I’ve had three myself.’
‘I’m another with three notches on the maternity bedpost, bab,’ Tessa Tizzard put in. ‘But poor old Ken was down at the business end. I stayed well away at the head of the bed.’
Petra let the group laugh and then called them to order. ‘Tonight is an experiment,’ she said. ‘For you to try it to see if you like it, for us to test out the venue, and for me to hear what you’ve got. It’s about enthusiasm and joy in singing, not about being the best tenor or soprano.’
Marti looked put out.
‘Bet you anything Marti Cavendish only comes back if she gets a solo,’ Amy whispered in Ashley’s ear. ‘I know her from Book Club. Likes to play the diva.’
Ashley grinned back and began to reply, when they were interrupted by Arthur, Biddy’s husband, who bustled in.
‘Hope we’re not late. Thought we’d bolster the male contingent. I’ve dragged these two in as well.’ He was followed by Noah and Eddie.
‘Brilliant,’ Petra said. ‘That brings our male count up to four. Thanks, Arthur. Could you men stand together at Ashley and Amy’s end?’
Eddie raised his brows comically and gave a sort of ‘What could I do?’ shrug at Ashley. Everyone shuffled up and the evening’s singing began.
During the break Ashley took her coffee outside to grab some fresh air. She leaned against the wall, which gave onto the view across the bay. To the east she could see pinpricks of light at Charmouth and a car’s headlights as it swooped up and down the coast road. To the west Berecombe promenade’s white lights glittered in the dusky evening light. It was that magical time of the year when it didn’t get properly dark. Warmth from the day hung heavy in the air and Ashley drank in the slabs of red and gold streaking across the sky, deepening into violet in the east and sinking into the sea. She took a few pictures with her phone but was disappointed it didn’t fully capture the glory. She concentrated, instead, on committing it to memory as she longed to paint it.
‘Another magnificent Berecombe view,’ said a voice at her side. It was Eddie. ‘I’ve brought you out a cupcake. Millie brought them with her but only just remembered. Think she said something about baby brain.’
She turned away from one entrancing view to another. Eddie was all warm, dark shadow and her senses tingled with longing. ‘Thank you.’ She took the cake off him, her fingers accidentally touching his, an electrical charge of desire bolting through her. ‘She’s done well to stay,’ she said, trying for the mundane. Eddie had stood next to her during the singing and his mellow tenor had thrilled her.
‘Yeah. Jed’s collected her now. She was flagging. Think the Grease medley was to blame. One step too far after “A tisket, a tasket, I’ve lost my yellow basket”.’
‘I know. Where did Petra dig that one up from? It was a laugh, though.’ Ashley let a giggle escape. ‘Especially when we tried singing it in rounds.’ She looked around quickly to see if anyone else was outside but saw they were alone. ‘I think Petra’s got her work cut out with Biddy.’
‘Got a deeper voice than any of the men.’
‘Certainly louder.’
‘And every one a bum note.’
‘Perhaps we’re being a bit mean, though. She does suffer from hearing loss.’
‘Oh jeez – yes, perhaps we are. I always forget that about Biddy.’ He pulled a face. ‘Most of the time I’m too scared of her to have any kind of conversation. She’s a game girl to have a go, in that case.’
‘Think Biddy has definitely been a game girl in the past.’ Ashley laughed again. ‘I enjoyed it. Hadn’t realised singing could be so much fun. But what on earth are you doing here? For the life of me, it’s the last place I thought I’d see you.’
‘Don’t tell me. Me too. There I was, having a quiet pint of warm ale in the Old Harbour with Noah, when Arthur comes in recruiting. Noah felt obliged, as a pillar of the community.’
‘And to garner possible points with Petra.’
‘And to garner possible points with Petra,’ he conceded on a laugh. ‘There is that. So, I faced the choice of drinking on my own or coming along. It’s been a blast.’ He broke off a piece of cake and ate it. ‘Good cake too. Preferable to a night alone in Exeter.’
‘No Bree?’ Ashley could have bitten off her tongue. Why did she have to mention the woman’s name when she and Eddie had been getting on so well?
He didn’t seem fazed. ‘Hadn’t you heard? She’s back in the States. Had to get back to work sometime.’
‘Oh. Do you miss her?’ God, Ashley. Big foot. Mouth. Insert.
Eddie shrugged but didn’t answer. For a few moments they ate their cakes in silence, then he crumpled up the paper case and said, ‘I’m not going to repeat what I’ve explained about me and Bree and the baby. I can appreciate you finding it hard to accept. Can’t say I’m happy about being only your friend, but if that’s what you want… If it means spending time with you, Ashley, I’ll go with that. And we seem to be getting along okay lately.’
Ashley caught her breath. Eddie’s face was in shadow and she couldn’t read his expression, but the warmth in his low voice had want racing through her. It was as if now she’d denied herself, she wanted him all the more. The space between them vibrated with desire and she ached to hold him. Need made her crave to press herself against him. Hardly daring to breathe, she reached out, putting tentative, exploring fingers to his chest, feeling his pulse quicken and leap. She heard him snatch a breath in surprise and her hand, seemingly of its own accord, inched up to the skin at the opening of his shirt, to the hairs that sprang there. Slid further to the warm smooth skin of his neck and slowly, oh so slowly into his hair, tugging on it and then snatching his mouth down onto hers. A sigh of release echoed from her into him. He tasted of chocolate cupcake and was sweet with sugar and desire. His sandalwood scent filled her senses.
After a second’s hesitation, he groaned her name, banded his arms around her and brought her to him roughly. His mouth trailed a blaze along her skin, making her cry out when he found the sensitive niche at the base of her throat. Turning her so that she backed against the wall, the wide-open sky and crimson sea a forgotten backdrop, he whispered, ‘Ashley, what are you doing to me?’ against her heated skin, his voice low and guttural with desire. He kissed her until she was mad for more.
She grabbed his hand, putting it between her legs so that it cupped her over her jeans. It was as if she had opened the floodgates of her desire, her want. Still needing more, she ripped open her shirt and pulled his mouth to her breast. Her head lolled back in ecstasy as his tongue found her nipple, his lips surrounding her flesh, sucking and licking until she was sent crazy. She bucked into him urgently, desperate for him. Desperate for some relief from the sweet torture. All she could see was red and black and spiralling need.
And then Eddie stopped. Pulled away. ‘What are we doing, Ashley?’ he panted. ‘Is this your idea of being friends? ’Cos I’m getting mighty confused here.’
Slowly Ashley came back into herself and blinked at him, trying to see him properly in the dark. She’d been so close to coming, it was all she had focused on. She’d forgotten they were in the courtyard outside the theatre. Had forgotten they were in public and could be seen by anyone strolling past. Her back felt sore and scraped from the rough wall behind; her sex throbbed, unsatisfied. A cold breeze blew across her hot skin and, to her shock, she realised her shirt was hanging open, exposing her breasts to the world. Buttoning it back up with trembling fingers, she tried to speak but couldn’t trust her voice. What had got into her? Tucking her shirt into her jeans, she began, ‘Eddie, I—’
He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘This isn’t fair.’ He pointed an angry finger. ‘I’ve made my feelings clear. I know what I want, I want a relationship with you. But you’re blowing hot and cold – what’s all that about? If it’s just sex you want, then fine, you go find it elsewhere. Sure, I’d bust a gut to sleep with you, but I want more than that. Just sex ain’t on my agenda, so make your mind up about what you want, Ash.’ He scrubbed a furious hand through his hair. ‘Jeez, don’t bother explaining. I’m outta here.’
‘Eddie, I—’ she tried again but her voice came out only as a hoarse whisper and was snatched away by the sea breeze. ‘Don’t go. I’m sorry.’
He shook his head and put up his hands in defence. Then he walked off, striding across the cobbled square and into a night flaming with a sunset. Her chest heaved, every sense aglow and frustrated. Whipping round to face the sunset, she hid her face in her hands, grinding her teeth in mortification. What the hell was she doing? She was losing her mind. How could she have jumped on him like that? She never did things like that! Why couldn’t she rein in her feelings for this man? She laid her head on the cool stone wall, wailing silently. Why was it all so complicated? Turning to search the blackness that had swallowed him up, she wondered how she’d ever face the man again.
Chapter Seventeen
‘What about here?’ Jake suggested.
It was a hot July day with a cloudless sky and a gentle breeze. With the beach and town heaving, Jake and Ashley had decided to seek some peace and quiet to paint and had wandered along the river to the converted mill. A curve in the river created a pebble beach in the shade of some willows and was the perfect spot. The occasional dog walker passed by or a family on the way to the seafront but, other than that, they had it to themselves.
Jake helped Ashley over the rough ground, set up a couple of stools and then left her to organise her painting kit. As usual, she’d brought only what she could carry in her rucksack so it didn’t take too long. She noted Jake had brought with him a portable easel and grinned to herself. Maybe that’s what divided the professional from the amateur.
The time passed and they didn’t talk much, lulled into a companionable silence by the blanket of heat. Ashley concentrated on painting a corner of the mill, the curve of glistening water, and three willow trees dipping their tendrils into the river.
Eventually she put her sketch pad down and eased a kink out of her shoulder. Taking off her sun hat, she lifted her hair, which lay heavy and hot on her neck. Fanning herself, she became aware of Jake, to her right, drawing furiously. As she glanced over he looked up and scrutinised her in a way that made her sure she was his subject.
‘Didn’t you have enough time to look at me in the studio?’ she asked. She’d sat for him a couple of times more, during which time he’d taken yet more photos on his phone for future reference. He’d said it was nearly finished and wouldn’t need her to sit for him again.
Jake turned his pad around for her to see. It revealed a completely new drawing and showed her stretching out her shoulders, one hand under her hair. It was full of dappled sunlight and sensuous lines.
Ashley laughed in embarrassment. ‘That’s not really me. It’s so sexy.’
‘Don’t you see yourself as sexy?’
She closed the lid of her water-colour tin carefully. ‘No comment.’
‘I think you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.’
‘Don’t.’
‘Don’t what?’
‘Flirt.’
‘I’m not flirting,’ he protested. ‘It’s true. What makes you even sexier is that you’re completely unaware of it.’
Their eyes met.
‘You’re my muse. But I’d like you to be more,’ he said breathily, his blue eyes glinting dangerously through the dark lashes.
‘I’m sure you would, but I have no intention of being added to your list of conquests.’
He laughed. ‘Notches on the bedpost? I’m not like that.’
‘Aren’t you? Either way, I’m not interested, Jake. I like you as a friend, as a painting companion; nothing more. Besides, weren’t you flirting outrageously with Zoe only the other day?’
He shrugged.
‘You can’t turn it off, can you?’
He shrugged again and spread his hands, making her giggle. A man was strolling along the riverside path and the sound caught his attention. He stopped for a second, put up a hand in greeting and then carried on walking, his long strides carrying him away before she had time to respond. Ashley’s breath stuck in her throat. It was Eddie. She felt Jake’s eyes on her, stripping her emotions bare, as usual.
‘Ah, so that’s it.’
She became very busy putting away her painting stuff. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You know precisely what I mean.’ Jake folded up his easel. ‘So, what’s stopping you?’
‘What’s stopping me what?’
‘Pursuing the man you’ve obviously got the hots for.’
‘You do talk a load of old rubbish sometimes. I do not have the hots, as you so quaintly put it, for Eddie McQueen.’
‘Yeah? Bite me.’
Ashley shoved her pad into the rucksack and gave in. ‘His not-so-ex-girlfriend is having his baby.’
‘So?’
‘So?’ She rounded on him. ‘I don’t want to have anything to do with him.’ The memory of how she’d kissed him outside the theatre the other night made her face glow with the lie. ‘I do not want to have a relationship with Eddie McQueen.’ A duck, alarmed at her raised voice, squawked and flew off.
‘Aw hell, Ashley. Who’s talking about a relationship? Just get in there, maid, and give him one. Cure the itch.’
‘And that’s what you’d do with me, is it? Cure the itch.’
Jake gave her a penetrating stare. ‘Nah. With you once would never be enough. Once I’d had you, I’d want to go back time and time again. Think if I got you to scratch my itch, it would just multiply.’
Ashley shivered. He was a deeply attractive man. Quite possibly completely amoral but, with that smooth dark skin, curling hair and those devastating eyes, as blue as the Cornish sea, you couldn’t argue he wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous. Add on his astonishing star appeal, and she felt herself go weak. A night with him would be memorable. It would be like sleeping with Picasso. But she couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it. No matter how tempted she was. She blew out a breath.
‘But that’s what might happen if I slept with Eddie,’ she countered. It was true. Once she’d had a taste of Eddie she didn’t think she’d ever want to give him up. And that’s what made him so dangerous.
‘Ah.’ Jake stood, slung the strap of his easel across his back and added, ‘Then you have to make a decision.’
‘Tell me about it,’ she said miserably. ‘The trouble is, when I’m around him my head’s telling me one thing and my heart the other.’
