Slowly, we disengage and sit side by side again, his arm around me. He presses a kiss into the side of head, rubs his nose through my hair and inhales deeply.
“Okay, talk.” I fight the desire to kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him.
“They want me to start in a month or two.” He straightens up. “There’s some flexibility. We’re in the middle of July, now. If I stay here until September, then I’ll have completed my year here. We could both leave then.”
He looks into my eyes, very earnest.
“Lessa, would you come with me? My year of celibacy will be over by then. We could move to Amsterdam, get a house together, and when I’m on tour, you can come with me.”
It’s a nice idea. “Your colleagues will love me bringing a crying baby on every flight. And what about later when Malinara is older and needs to go to school?”
“Then you could stay at home. The tours won’t be long, so I’ll only be away a couple of months.”
Even as he says this, we both see the pitfalls.
“Or if you hate living in the Netherlands, you can stay here, and I’ll fly back and forth.”
“It’s not like commuting from London to Norwich on weekends. It took you a day to travel last time between ferry and two connecting flights.”
“Then, I’ll come here on holidays. Or you can move to London, and I’ll fly there when I’m off.” He holds my face between both his hands. “Lessa, I’m serious, we’ll find a way to make it work.”
He paints a seductive picture, and my heart that has loved him for months desperately wants to believe. So, what is it that’s nagging at the back of mind?
“I’m just going to check on her.” I hold up the silent baby monitor and get up making the swing rock. Brandon puts both feet on the ground to stabilise it.
I go upstairs, make sure Malinara is sleeping and safe, then I wash my face in the sink, tidy my hair, and fetch a shawl for me and a jacket for Brandon because nights can get a bit cool.
Downstairs, I fill the kettle and turn it on. While I wait for it to boil, I prepare a teapot on a tray with cups and the last slice of honey cake from Elodie’s shop.
How much would we miss the nice food on this island if we left?
The seductive plans Brandon suggested take shape in my mind. And their implications.
I imagine myself here, alone, while Brandon is in a concert somewhere, playing music he loves, with other people who love playing music. Like-minded musicians, thrown together after late night concerts.
I imagine myself trying not to worry about what he might be doing and with whom.
And then I think about what he said happened, or didn’t happen, last spring when he got the call and left Janey.
Chapter Forty-three
Brandon
“I was coming to look for you.” I take the tray from her and put it on the edge of the planter. We really need a table in this garden.
Neither of us had any dinner. Thank God for generous neighbours. We eat the cake and the half honeycomb left in the plastic tub. Lessa and I share the same spoon and take turns eating small bites and chewing until all the sweetness is gone, then wash it down with Earl Grey tea. We watch the sun sink behind the sea, and the few clouds on the horizon darken from gold to orange to crimson and finally to purple.
I have a feeling Lessa needs time to think.
“You know.” I wipe a finger along the inside of the plastic box for the last of the honey and suck my finger. “If things were different between us, I would have let you lick the honey from my finger.” I give her a wink.
“Shameless flirt.” She giggles.
“Flirting is all I can do for the moment.” I say with exaggerated woe. “But watch out come October.”
Instantly, I know something is wrong. Her smile flattens and her eyes move to study the horizon. But I know Lessa. I know her very well. She’s building up to say something.
I wait.
