He shakes his head, squeezes my hand. “Wait awhile.”
I continue to sit, next to the chaise, holding my father’s hand and looking at the mountains that surround the loch.
Tall and treacherous and full of secrets.
* * *
I smell rain.
There’s a point just before a storm after days of glorious dead summer heat where the rain that’s about to fall whets its way with a particular perfume. After days of mindless temperatures, I’m longing for the rain, so I’m outside, heading for a sanctuary where I can be when it starts to fall, seeing the green and blues and greys wash away the scorched browns of the land.
August has murdered the leaves. It is the cruellest month; drying the lawns and draining the pools dry. The entrance to the maze always has an arch surrounded by ivy and climbing plants, clematis and passiflora, sometimes honeysuckle. Its greens have been stolen by the sun and the dryness has its own crinkled music.
I walk through the pathways, seeing dry leaves deposited in corners and parched yellow grass on the ground. Summer’s massacre.
But the rain is about to fall and everywhere can sense it. The birds have stopped their flights; only the swallows and swifts swoop low, grabbing their dinner and calling across the air.
My feet barely make a sound as I walk, remembering the way to the centre of the maze as it’s engraved in me. Every turn takes me back to a place where Ben is, where Ben was. All those times, those years, of never knowing what we were to each other and we still don’t.
He’s not just a fuck.
And neither am I to him.
The rain starts.
The drops are sporadic, as if the clouds are testing to see what will happen when the rain lands. Heavy drops of cool rain that crack the heat fall heavy on the ground and on my skin.
I don’t know where this obsession comes from, this need to be in the rain at the moment it starts, but when it happens, I forget what else there is.
I reach the centre of the maze as the rain falls heavier. The oak in the centre in in full leaf, but the leaves are dropping because of the heat, yellowing early.
I see the leaves first and Ben second, my chest fracturing as my heart pounds too hard.
“Why are you here?”
He’s leaning against the tree trunk, wearing combats and a black T-shirt that’s too tight to look at.
“Because I wanted to see you.” His answer is curt.
“Why? You’ve not wanted to for the last few days. In fact, I’d go as far as to say you’ve gone out of your way to avoid me.” I can feel my temper start to brew.
“I did.”
I want to walk up to him and beat his chest with my fists. I want to yell and cry and shout and make him hurt but some ounce of resolve stops me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”
“I know.”
“Why are you here, Ben? Why the fuck do you want to see me? You’ve made it perfectly clear that this isn’t anything. That we can’t be anything.” My words fly out hard and fast.
“We can’t be anything. I’m your fucking security detail. You’re a princess, daughter of a king. My father’s hoed your flower beds – life doesn’t work like that.”
“Is that why you refused to take my virginity?”
He doesn’t look away from me, maintain my gaze so it’s painful.
“Yes. I wasn’t good enough.” He pauses. “Blair, I didn’t want to be that boy who ruined you. You were this feisty, gorgeous girl who I would’ve fucking given up everything for, but what did I have to give?”
