Autumn Dreams at Mermaids Point, page 21
Tom shook his head. ‘Not everyone likes superhero movies, bud. Go on and get your shower.’
Max sighed, but did as he was told.
Pushing away from his spot by the kettle Tom retrieved the wet towels his son had abandoned and tossed them next to the others by the back door. ‘I’ll stick them all through the wash later.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’ Nerissa twisted the towel she’d been using between her hands. ‘And you don’t have to make dinner, either.’
‘And you don’t have to wait on us hand and foot. That’s not the deal.’ He eased the towel she was clutching from her hands and tossed it aside. Her hair was a wild riot framing her face, and her cheeks still glowed from being outside in the cold. The long-sleeved shirt she wore was plastered to her shoulders and upper body, the pale material see-through enough that he could make out her sun-darkened skin, the hint of lace edging her bra. She looked other-worldly – like a siren blown in on the storm, and as tempting as one. He wanted to cup her cheek, to test the silky softness of her skin beneath his thumb, he just plain wanted… ‘Nerissa.’
She swayed towards him for a moment, before pulling back. ‘No.’
She was right. Of course she was right. What the hell had he been thinking? Shoving his hands in his pockets, he swung back towards the kettle. ‘Sorry. I’ll fix you that tea and then we’ll all leave you in peace.’
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He silently berated himself as the kettle hissed and fizzed. It was the only sound in the room, and he wasn’t sure if she was still there or she’d taken her chance and done a runner. And who would blame her? Just when things were starting to settle down and the kids seemed like they were adjusting well to their new life, here he was threatening to destroy all that new-found peace because – what? He had a hard-on for their pretty housekeeper?
A soft touch on his shoulder interrupted his mental litany of self-loathing. ‘Tom?’
‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.’ He shook his head, not daring to look around.
‘Well, what if you’re not the only one who’s been thinking the same kind of things?’
He spun around, sure he must’ve misheard her. She was almost toe-to-toe with him. So close, too close. His treacherous hands itched with the need to circle her waist and drag her across those last remaining inches. ‘You’ve been thinking about me?’
Nerissa bit her lower lip, then nodded. ‘A lot more than I should’ve been, probably.’ She looked away, then up through her lashes at him. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything because I thought it was nothing more than a silly crush. I mean, it was almost bound to happen with us spending so much time with each other.’
‘You’re probably right.’ He gripped the worktop behind him to keep his hands from doing something unconscionably stupid. ‘I haven’t been around a woman this much since Anna. And with the enforced domesticity of our situation…’ He shrugged a shoulder. ‘Well, it was bound to generate a false sense of intimacy between us.’ There was nothing false about the pressure in his body, but he was grasping for any straw of logic he could get hold of right now.
‘Exactly.’ She sighed in what sounded like relief, then smiled. ‘I’m glad this happened and we’re able to talk about it. Now we’ve acknowledged it, it’s something we can both be on our guard for. I’ve been on my own for a long time, too, so it’s only natural if our feelings are a bit confused.’
‘Yes.’ His eyes strayed to the dip of her throat where the ring she wore on a chain had rested earlier and saw it had gone. He’d seen her reach for it several times and wondered at its significance. And now he was wondering at the significance of her taking it off. Step back, for the love of God, step back. He was hemmed in against the work surface and if she didn’t put some distance between them, he was going to dash all these sensible intentions to hell and do what he’d been aching to do since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her.
She swallowed but didn’t move. ‘Well, I’m glad we’ve got that settled then.’
‘Yes,’ he repeated, because anything else was beyond him at that point.
‘I’d better go and have my bath.’
Don’t think about it, don’t think about it. But it was too late, he was already picturing her sinking down into the deep, claw-footed tub he’d seen in her bathroom when they’d first toured the house. ‘What about your tea? I could bring it up for you?’ Knock on the door and then let himself in to the fragrant steam-filled room and—
Feet thundered on the wooden stairs, heralding the imminent arrival of one or other of his children. Nerissa leapt back like a scolded cat, as Tom spun to press the front of his body against the cupboards, shielding the evidence of where those very dangerous thoughts had been taking him. He heard an exchange of words between Max and Nerissa, but he couldn’t make sense of the conversation over the roar of blood pumping in his head. Acting on autopilot, he turned the kettle on to boil for the third time and set about making two large mugs of hot chocolate. By the time he’d loaded the top of them with whipped cream and marshmallows, he had himself back under enough control. When he turned around, he told himself it was a relief that only Max was present, sitting at the table with his face buried in his phone and seemingly oblivious to any lingering tension in the air.
22
Awkward. That was the only way Nerissa could describe the next few weeks. The end of the month had at least brought a change in the weather, and November was promising to bring with it the kind of crisp, bright weather where lots of long walks on the beach would at least give her the excuse to be out of the house. Tom was so unfailingly polite and formal it was almost grating. They revolved around each other like the moon orbiting the earth, distance negating the magnetic pull of attraction.
He was doing the right thing, the thing they’d both agreed was for the best, but the way he’d looked at her that afternoon in the kitchen haunted her. There had been so much intensity in his eyes, and the muscles on his forearms had been rigid from gripping the worktop so hard. If Max hadn’t come in when he did, she wasn’t sure what might have happened. She’d lain in the tub afterwards, almost breathless with anticipation as to whether or not Tom would act on his suggestion and bring her a cup of tea. The minutes had stretched, and the water cooled as her book lay ignored on the floor beside the tub and her eyes remained fixed on the tiny gap where she’d left the door between her bedroom and the bathroom ajar. It was good that he hadn’t come up, she’d told herself as she’d dried off and pulled on a pair of leggings and a baggy sweatshirt over her oldest, plainest underwear. Even if she lost her mind and dared to throw herself at him, the thought of him seeing her in a pair of granny pants and a sports bra would hopefully be enough to check herself.
But the under armour hadn’t proven necessary because he’d barely glanced her way as he and Max made supper together. Feeling like a bystander, she’d taken her dinner and disappeared off upstairs to watch Avengers Endgame on her own. She hadn’t wanted to say anything in front of Max when it had become clear that Tom wanted some one-on-one time with his son, but she was a huge Marvel fan. The rest of the family had zero interest in the franchise, so she’d made many pilgrimages alone to the big multiplex in town to watch her favourite superheroes vanquish their many foes. How much fun would it have been to enjoy the film through Max’s eyes? To experience his wonder and discuss all the theories she had about the series and its epic finale. Instead, she’d curled up on her sofa, letting her burger go cold as she worked her way through a bottle of wine, wishing she was downstairs.
It was all for the best, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time as she sent the next patient to sit in the waiting area and picked up the phone. ‘Molly and Samuel are here,’ she said to Tom when he answered. The rushed visit to A & E had unsettled Molly so Tom had made space for a weekly check-up, hoping a bit of extra support and reassurance would help rebuild her confidence. The baby had suffered no ill after-effects from his virus and his mother’s handling of him was growing more assured after each visit.
‘Thanks. Give me a minute and then you can send them through.’ He’d stopped coming out to receive new patients. Stopped those little moments of banter when he’d asked for the low-down on a new patient, or brought her a cup of tea because he was so damn considerate and didn’t want her to think he expected her to do everything. When he wasn’t dealing with patients he was closeted in his office with Doc as they made plans for the new men’s health initiative they were piloting at the surgery. Anything, it seemed, to avoid spending any time alone with her.
‘Okay. Umm, there’s only a couple of appointments left and I could do with nipping out to Laurie’s if that’s okay with you?’ It was Max’s birthday this weekend and she’d commissioned her niece – with Tom’s approval – to make a special cake for the occasion. His family were also expected to arrive later that evening and, although she thought she had everything ready, an hour to do some final checks before the children got home and the guests descended would ease her mind.
‘That’s fine. Put a note on the door and redirect the intercom to my line.’
Trying not to feel dismissed, Nerissa responded in the same cool manner. ‘Of course.’
‘Nerissa…’
Her pulse started thumping the way it did every time he said her name. ‘Yes?’
‘Thanks. You know, for Max’s party and, well, everything else.’ He gave a nervous laugh. ‘I don’t expect you to hang around this weekend, I’ll see to everything.’
Well, if she’d been under any illusions about whether she was invited to join the festivities, she knew now. ‘Message received.’
She hung up the phone before she said anything that might betray the turmoil she was feeling. Clearing the air had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now she knew Tom might be feeling some of what she was, it was exponentially worse. Although given his attitude lately, he seemed to be doing a much better job of getting over it than she was.
‘You can go in now,’ she called to Molly, waited for the woman to steer a grinning, gurgling Samuel in his pushchair towards Tom’s surgery and then logged off her computer. She had a ready-made, laminated sign for the door asking patients to press the intercom for admission, so in a matter of moments she’d locked the front door and was heading towards her room to get changed.
Screams and shouts greeted her as she opened the door into the kitchen, followed by the heavy thunder of feet overhead and the slamming of a door. What on earth? Tossing her handbag and keys on the table, she ran for the stairs and hurried up to the landing where she found Emily hammering on Max’s bedroom door.
‘Get out here, I haven’t finished with you yet!’
‘Go away, I hate you!’ Max’s muffled yell came from the other side of the door.
‘I hate you more, you little shit! You’ve ruined it! I’m never speaking to you again.’ Emily slammed her fist into the door and yelled his name in total contrast to her previous declaration.
‘Stop that!’ Nerissa said, raising her voice to be heard over the banging and screaming. ‘Emily, what’s going on?’
The girl spun to face her, her red cheeks streaked with tears and her mouth twisted in an angry snarl. ‘Mind your own business. This has nothing to do with you!’ She went right back to banging on the door. ‘Open up!’ She aimed a kick at the wooden base, her shoe leaving a dark scuff on the white-painted wood.
‘Enough!’ Nerissa grabbed Emily and pulled her away before she could do any more damage. ‘Calm down and tell me what the problem is.’
‘You can’t tell me what to do!’ Emily’s face was twisted into an ugly, angry snarl. ‘You’re not my mother. You’re just the cleaner!’
Nerissa stepped back as hurt by the words as if they’d been delivered with a physical slap. She caught herself, though, because she was damned if anyone was going to speak to her that way, least of all an angry child. ‘No, I’m not your mother, because if I was you’d speak to other people with more respect!’ she snapped. ‘Now stop this ridiculous carry-on and tell me why you are so upset.’
Emily shot her a mutinous expression, but her voice was quieter when she muttered, ‘You wouldn’t understand.’
Nerissa followed Emily’s glance towards a bundle of material scrunched up on the floor by the opposite skirting board. Recognising it, a sick feeling filled her stomach as she bent to scoop it up. ‘This is your mother’s blanket, isn’t it?’
Emily nodded, tears flooding her eyes once more. ‘He’s ruined it,’ she whispered, her voice breaking on the last word.
With delicate hands, Nerissa held the blanket up so it unfurled to its full size. To her horror, a section at the bottom had come away and was trailing towards the floor. ‘Oh goodness,’ she said, turning it around in her hands so she could examine the damage more closely. ‘What happened?’
‘He happened!’ Emily thumped her fist on Max’s bedroom door once more. ‘He stole it from my room!’
The door flung open to reveal an equally angry, equally red-faced Max. ‘I didn’t steal it! It doesn’t belong to you, it was Mummy’s and I have as much right to it as you do!’ His fists were balled at his sides and Nerissa moved quickly to step between them, fearful they might come to actual blows.
‘Stop it, both of you!’ Her head swivelled between the two of them as she wondered what on earth she could say to defuse the situation. ‘Your grandparents and Uncle Alex will be here soon, you don’t want them to see you fighting like this, do you?’
‘I don’t care.’ Max’s words might have been defiant, but the way he dropped his head and scuffed his foot on the floorboards said otherwise.
‘Go back in your room and try to calm down. You don’t want to spoil your birthday now, do you?’
He shook his head, still staring at the floor.
‘You’re just going to let him get away with this?’ Emily demanded. ‘I might have known you’d side with him!’
‘I’m not siding with anyone,’ Nerissa said, her tone calm but firm as she gave Emily a gentle push towards her own bedroom. ‘And it’s not up to me what consequences arise from this, I just hate to see the two of you fighting. Please, Emily,’ she said when the girl stood her ground. ‘Let’s go in your room and see what the damage is in a proper light. You never know, I might be able to fix it.’ She said the last more in hope than expectation as her sewing skills had never been that great. Oh, she could fix a hem and sew on a button, but the kind of delicate, skilled work she feared it would take to repair the blanket was likely far beyond her meagre talents.
Emily cast one last baleful glare at Max before she turned and marched towards her bedroom. Nerissa followed a few steps behind, holding the blanket carefully to make sure the awful tear didn’t rip any further. Emily flung herself down on her bed, her arms hugging one of the pillows close to her chest. Nerissa’s heart ached for her – ached for Max too. They’d been through so much, and were far too young to have to cope with such a dreadful loss.
Holding up the blanket to the light, she winced. The damage was as bad as she feared. She’d have to wrack her brains – and Sylvia’s too – and try to come up with someone who might be able to repair it. For now she settled on folding it carefully, making sure the damaged section was tucked inside and protected as much as possible before setting it to one side on the stool in front of Emily’s dressing table. ‘I’m so sorry, Emily. I know how upsetting this must be for you.’
‘You couldn’t possibly know.’ Emily burrowed her face deeper into her pillow.
‘While it’s true I was a fair bit older than you were, I still understand how awful it is to lose someone who means everything to you.’
Emily raised her head. ‘Your mum’s dead too?’
Nerissa nodded. ‘She passed a few years ago and I still miss her every single day.’ She recalled what Emily had said earlier. ‘No one can ever take her place. Just like no one can ever take your mother’s place. If I’ve overstepped the mark, then I am sorry, it wasn’t my intention. But you still have no right to speak to me the way you did earlier.’
‘You shouted at me.’ Emily sounded shocked at the very idea.
Nerissa bit her lip, suddenly amused. ‘And you were so very calm, how dreadful of me.’
Emily made a funny noise, half-laugh, half-sob.
‘I know it seems like the end of the world, but if you’ll give me a chance to ask around, I’ll try my best to find someone who can repair the damage.’
‘It’ll never be the same. It’s ruined.’
‘Only if you choose to believe that. Accidents happen, and no matter how hard we try to protect things, sometimes they get damaged.’
‘It’s Max’s fault. He took it when he shouldn’t have.’ There was less hostility in her voice at least, though her eyes still burned with angry tears.
‘And why do you think he took it?’ Nerissa raised her hand when Emily’s mouth opened immediately. ‘Wait. Look past your feelings and think. I know how special the blanket is to you – the connection it gives you to your mum. Does Max have anything like that?’
Emily paused for a moment, then shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Then perhaps,’ Nerissa said, using the gentlest of tones, ‘he was looking for a way to connect with her too.’
‘He still ruined it.’
‘It got damaged while he had it.’ Nerissa hoped the subtle correction would sink in, maybe not now, but once Emily had a chance to calm down. ‘I am sure that’s the last thing he would’ve wanted.’
‘Maybe.’
It was as much of a concession as Nerissa could hope for and she felt like she’d done what she could for the moment. Tom could deal with the aftermath once he’d finished with his patients, and at least the children were no longer screaming bloody murder at each other. ‘I need to go and collect a few things for Max’s party. Will you be okay until I get back? Your dad won’t be long.’ Emily nodded, so Nerissa risked a gentle hand to Emily’s leg, desperate to offer comfort but so very mindful of the barriers between them. ‘Why don’t you rest up for a few minutes until everyone gets here?’
