It’s been such an exciting process. I met the lord and lady of the house at the briefing six weeks ago, when they took me to the site where the statue would be erected. It was quite something to imagine one of my creations on a plinth surrounded by rose bushes within a stunning walled garden.
If they decide to commission me, it will be the largest piece I’ve ever done. I’m trying to keep my excitement in check, even though Arabella claims that it’s a done deal. Lord and Lady Stockley like to support upcoming, emerging artists, she said. I’m thrilled to think that I may be considered one.
Perhaps I’ll be taking on too much, managing these three other holiday cottages as well as my own, but the art world is fickle. Who knows if or when the work will dry up? I’d rather be too busy than not busy enough, and I figure I can make Friday the changeover day for my place so I have more time on Saturdays to clean the others.
The mist is evaporating, dissolving like spirits leaving the land. The sea stretches out before us, swathes of muted blue linen rippling in the breeze.
‘I hope everything works out for you back home with your music,’ I say, leaning a little closer to Finn.
‘Thanks,’ he murmurs.
‘It’s going to be strange if things do take off. Hearing about you on the internet or through the grapevine …’
‘So you don’t want to revert to the one-month rule?’
I swallow. ‘I think that was also a little too hard. Don’t you?’
‘It wasn’t easy,’ he agrees with a sigh.
We’ve been doing so well. We’re making things happen for ourselves now; we probably need to focus on our careers without added distractions. It’s not as though we’re ever going to be able to truly support each other, not when we’re so far apart.
Finn has been watching me sort through my feelings. And now he nods and looks away.
A strange calm settles over me.
Ahead of us, sunshine spears down through a crack in the clouds, a brilliant ray of gold lighting up the sea.
‘Here comes the sun,’ Finn sings, adding the littledoo-doo-doos at the end.
‘Sing the whole song to me,’ I request quietly, resting my head against his shoulder.
He does. And as he sings about coming out of a long, lonely winter, I feel as though he could be singing about us.
THIS SUMMER
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I’m lying on my side in the downstairs bedroom, too wired to fall asleep. Tom is flat out on his stomach beside me, one arm pushed beneath his pillow, his handsome face turned in my direction. The broad expanse of his back and shoulders is just visible in the low light and I can barely resist reaching out and tracing my fingertips across his warm skin.
He deserves his rest after what he’s accomplished tonight, I think with a smile.
After having hot, urgent sex on one of the sofas at Seaglass, we came back here for a slower, more exploratory round two.
It’s hard to pick a favourite time – this manreallyknows what he’s doing.
He’s the first person I’ve been with since Finn and I kissed almost six years ago. I recoil from memories of him, trying to stay here with Tom, but I can’t control the way thoughts of Finn envelop me.
Let him go, Liv, I urge myself as emotion builds inside my chest.Enough is enough.
I want to get back to the afterglow I was enjoying as I think about what Tom and I did, the feeling of our bodies pressed together, how connected we felt during those moments.
I like the way he looks at me, howseenhe makes me feel.I’ve lived with a hollowness inside my heart for so long, but I don’t feel empty when I’m with him. My heart feels full.
Finn and I have history, but so much of it is tainted, so many of our shared memories are tinged with pain. Tom hasn’t seen me broken, and I’m glad of the clean slate we have to launch from. This thing with him feels clean and fresh andgood, and I hope that the only way from here is up.
As I focus on Tom’s steady breathing, slowly matching my own to his, the thoughts of Finn gradually drift away.
The sound of the doorbell wrenches me from my dreams and for a few seconds I’m in the past, fear pressing in on me from all sides.
