He’d ordered a cold beer at the bar and was sitting opposite Laura when he felt a settling of his mood. There was something about her company that he found oddly calming. There was no hurry to her, no quickness of movement or speech. She was measured and thoughtful and her low-pitched voice, together with a level gaze, had the effect of quietly drawing more out of him than he might otherwise want to share.
Or was that a lie on his part? Had he deliberately decided to stop and have a drink with her for the sole purpose of clearing his head of the clamour that was building there? But why did he think she would have the ability to do that?
‘You look troubled,’ she said as he watched an elegantly regal swan gliding by with half a dozen cygnets following closely behind. ‘Would I be right?’
‘Whatever gives you that impression?’ he said, his hands wiping at the condensation on his beer glass.
‘I thought it the other night and I’m thinking it now because you have a house full of guests, but here you are having a drink with a stranger.’
‘You’re not a stranger.’
‘But neither am I part of your circle of close friends. Which perhaps gives me an advantage over them, in that I see you through unblinkered eyes. I have no preconceived ideas about you. Therefore, I see what I see.’
‘And what do you see?’
She smiled. ‘Are you sure you want to know?’
Curious, he nodded. ‘I’ll risk it.’
‘In that case, I see a worried man who finds himself backed into a corner wondering how on earth he got there.’
He smiled back at her, tried to keep his voice light. ‘Do you see an escape route for this allegedly worried man?’
‘Is that what you want to do: escape?’
‘Don’t we all at some stage in our lives?’
‘Oh yes. I’ve done it myself. After my marriage ended with Blake’s father five years ago, I sold my house and went to live in Greece. It was the barmiest thing I ever did, like running away to join the circus, but Lord it was fun!’
This was the most she’d ever given away of herself, Alastair realised. ‘And now here you are on the Broads, staying at the Mill,’ he said, ‘where you probably hoped to enjoy some peace and quiet, but instead find yourself opposite a house of mayhem. For which I can only apologise.’
She smiled again. Such a knowing smile, he found himself thinking as he watched her drink her wine.
‘But the question still stands,’ she pressed, ‘are you in need of escape? If so, what is it you want to run away from?’
‘Running away sounds such a cowardly act.’
‘Depends what one is running from. It might be the bravest thing one ever does.’
He drummed his fingers over the rough wood of the bench table they were sitting at. ‘Everyone thought I was being so incredibly brave after Orla’s death; now I suspect they think my actions are that of a fool. A misguided fool.’
‘Falling in love can make even the most rational of people behave quite out of character.’
‘Do I seem rational to you?’ he asked, while a large motor cruiser manoeuvred into a mooring place in front of the pub. ‘Personally, I’m beginning to have doubts about my ability to think straight.’
‘I’d say you’re as rational as the next person who’s still going through a painful grieving process,’ she answered him.
‘What if I said you were wrong, that I’m not grieving. Not anymore. My marriage was like one long grieving process. Towards the end, it was a car crash of a marriage.’
She lowered her wineglass to the table and fixed him with a direct gaze. ‘Even the loss of something that caused such pain still needs to be grieved for,’ she said quietly.
When he didn’t respond, she said, ‘You stayed married for all that time. Why? You had no children, no real ties.’
How strange it was to be able to talk so openly with this woman he barely knew. But then as she’d said, she viewed him through objective eyes; she had no expectations of him. Unlike Simon and Danny, and all the others, who expected him to behave in a certain way and to be the man he’d always been. Even Valentina now had expectations of him. When they’d met, he’d presented himself with a clean slate – he could be whoever he wanted to be. Had that been the attraction? And was it ever possible to wipe the slate clean, effectively reinvent oneself and start afresh?
‘Orla and I were tied to each other in ways that I don’t think anyone else would understand,’ he murmured.
Laura looked at him sceptically. ‘I’m not buying that, Alastair; you could have walked away any time you chose. What really made you stay? Was it Orla’s dependency on you? That can be a very powerful bond between a couple, much like a drug.’
