‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Graham and slipped quietly away, giving a fond, fatherly smile that for some reason made her want to cry.
‘Tired.’ The word slurred on her tongue, which seemed to be too heavy to lift. She struggled to sit up, her limbs lethargic, like disobedient children refusing to obey her.
‘Here, let me help you.’ Gently he pulled the pillows from behind her and propped them up so she could fall back onto them.
He reached for a flask beside the bed and poured steaming liquid into a mug. ‘Have some tea.’
She took the offered drink and took a thankful slip, feeling the delicious heat of the black tea course down her throat. ‘Mmm, thanks,’ she said, as the lassitude weighing her down lifted and her mind started clearing. She took another long draught, feeling the hot tea warming as it slipped down.
‘Are you warm enough?’
She nodded, suddenly shy as she remembered being naked by the loch. Now she was wrapped in flannel pyjamas, her feet in lovely, soft, woollen socks. She shivered.
‘Do you want another blanket?’ asked Ross.
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m okay. Just remembering. I was so cold.’
‘You were.’
‘Thank you. For pulling me out.’ With a wince, she remembered him shouting, telling her to grab the branch, the terror in his eyes. Him carrying her. Him tucking her in. That barely there kiss he’d dropped on her forehead. No, she closed her eyes, she didn’t want to remember that. Maybe she’d imagined it. He hadn’t had any choice but to help her. It didn’t mean anything and now he was probably feeling sorry for her and guilty that he’d upset her.
He reached for her hand. ‘I’m sorry, Izzy.’
‘Nothing to be sorry for. My fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.’
‘I meant I’m sorry for making such a mess of things. Trying to deny what I was feeling.’
She shrugged and looked away, out of the window. She could see the loch, its serene gunmetal surface looking calm and benign. With a shudder she remembered the icy bite of its clutches and the shock of the cold wrapping itself round her with the strength of an iron cage. Her stomach lurched at the sickening memory of her utter impotence.
‘It’s fine, Ross.’ She refused to look at him. She couldn’t do this. Not now. If she looked at him, she knew she’d cry. She loved him but he didn’t get to feel sorry for her. He didn’t need to say things for the wrong reasons just to make her feel better.
‘No, Izzy. It isn’t. I got it wrong. I panicked. It wasn’t your mum or my mum – it was me. You were right, Iwasbeing a coward, denying my feelings. Izzy, I think I might be falling in love with you.’
Too little. Too late. And a little voice in Izzy’s head shriekedThink? Might?No, that wasn’t good enough. He had to know. But she couldn’t wait for him to make up his mind. Like Graham said, he had to jump off the cliff.
He spoke again. ‘I couldn’t handle the strength of the emotion. It knocked me sideways and then when you fell in the loch, I felt it again.’
She turned to him. He would never be fully in. He’d always be running scared. She’d played this game before with Philip. Every time she put some distance between them, he’d come running back. Too scared to lose her but not enough in love with her to step over the edge and make the commitment. Ross was the same. She wasn’t going to let her heart be lifted up and then dropped, over and over.
‘I made a mistake, Izzy.’
With a small sad smile, she shook her head, ‘No, you didn’t.’
A frown puckered his forehead. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You were right. We should just be friends. I don’t want someone who’s scared of love, who’s going to back off whenever the feelings threaten to overwhelm them or they think they’re being manipulated into something. I want someone who’s all in. Not someone who thinks theymightbe in love. Someone who’s prepared to throw themselves off a cliff. You’re not that person, Ross.’
She turned her head away. ‘I need to sleep now.’
He stood up and she didn’t dare look at him. Instead, she closed her eyes and pulled the blanket up to her chin, waiting until she heard the bedroom door click shut. Only then did she allow the tears to slip down her cheeks. She hadn’t been lying when she said she wasn’t going to change her mind; she loved him but she wasn’t going to accept second best. This time she deserved more.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
‘You can’t,’ protested a voice outside Izzy’s bedroom door.
‘Izzy won’t mind,’ replied Xanthe in her usual blithe way. People rarely stopped her from doing what she wanted.
‘See, Graham,’ said Alicia. ‘Izzy won’t mind.’
