And the next moment the water is falling from the sky in bucketloads and we’re all running as fast as we can across the fields towards the farm buildings.
37
In the hay barn at Walter’s farm
Damp but not quite finished
Thursday
It’s true we can’t change what’s done, but as we reach the last gate and race across the cobbles with the rain pelting down on us so hard my skin is stinging, between my gasps for breath and pushing the water out of my eyes so I can see, I’m puzzling. As I follow Ross across the yard and clutch at the stitch in my side from running so far so fast, there’s still an unease about why I read him so badly all those years ago.
He grabs my arm, and pulls me through the curtain of water falling off the roof and into the shelter of an open-sided shed piled with bales. The rain is ringing on the metal high above our heads, the water is sluicing down the sides where the gutters are overflowing, my hair is hanging in rats’ tails, my soaking dress is sticking to my body, but I’m laughing with relief that we’ve made it to the shelter. I breathe in the sweetness of the newly mown hay I’m leaning against, though it’s pricking my back through my dress.
I blink at Ross through sodden eyelashes, take in that he’s approximately a millimetre away, and a seismic shudder passes through my body. ‘I couldn’t be any wetter if I’d been dipped in the sea.’
He shakes his head, then shrugs off his jacket. ‘Here, it’s wet, but it’s better than nothing. Put it around you, you’re freezing.’ He slides it over my shoulders and around my back, then, as another clap of thunder echoes off the stone wall opposite, he drags on the jacket lapels and pulls me in against the hard planes of his body. ‘These summer storms are fierce, but they don’t usually last too long.’
And then the answer to my puzzling rushes into my head like an express train. ‘I’ve remembered the thing you said that really let me know how you felt; it wasWhat a disaster!’ Andwe went downhill from there. But at least that explains to me why I reacted as I did.
His hair is falling in long strands across his forehead. ‘What’s that?’
My breath is still juddering, but at least the burn in my throat is fading now I’m getting my breath back. ‘When I rang to tell you about the baby, that’s how I knew you were appalled. How much you hated the idea. And I had to block your calls in case you tried to make me change my mind.’
He lets out a moan. ‘The disaster wasn’t the baby, Bertie. The disaster was that I’d let it happen at all. That I was responsible for demolishing your last year at uni, and probably your future too. That I cared for yousomuch, but had beensocareless.’ He pushes back my hair, and when I look up, his eyelashes are clumped too. ‘I only began to think about the baby as a living, breathing reality when I arrived to see you at the hospital. But I always, always wanted her.’
My sigh is heartfelt and I swallow back a mouthful of tears. ‘And by that time we’d already lost her.’
The hollows in his cheeks are dark as he stares down, and his voice is heavy with regret. ‘You know, I didn’t ever get to see you when you were pregnant. I never even put my hand on your tummy.’
I could weep for both of us for the hurt we’ve caused each other. And I have so much catching up to do. Knowing what I do now means I need to reassess my fear of putting my trust in someone. Because however it felt back then, he wasn’t running out on me. He came all the way through for me, but it was just too late.
I let out another sigh, because I want to explain. ‘All my life-decisions since then have been based on only relying on myself so I wouldn’t be let down again. It’s made for such a lonely journey. And you hadn’t failed me at all.’
His face is resting against my temple. Then he pulls back, tilts my chin upwards and looks down at me. ‘At least you know the truth now. I was there for you then, and that will never change; I’ll always be here for you.’
As he rubs his thumb across my jaw, my heart is beating so hard it’s practically jumping out of my chest. There’s a gaping need in the pit of my stomach as I crush my hips against his groin. That’s raw desire. I swallow hard and bite my lip, aching to bury myself in him, to taste the sweet, dark velvety heat of his mouth again.
I feel his chest expand against me as he drags in a breath. ‘So what are you thinking, Bertie?’
I’m thinking that if he’s going to kiss me I won’t mind at all because I’m finally ready.More than ready. And even further in the back of my mind there’s also the green-for-go on my Natural Cycles app this morning. How if he’d like to sit on a hay bale and lie back, I’d be fine to take it from there.Ease him out of his jeans, button by button.Then quietly pull up my dress and kneel across him. That I don’t know about him, but I’m so fit to burst that I’d probably last all of two seconds…
I push that as far out of my mind as I can and clear my throat and try to say it like it is. ‘I’ve got a week left in St Aidan; that feels scarily likedéjà vu. But it’s exciting to have cleared so much baggage out of the way.’ I send it back to him. ‘How about you?’ I’m close enough to see his individual eyelashes in the half-light, and I hold my breath as I wait for his answer. There were so many barriers between us, but we finally heaved the last one aside. All I can I hope is that he feels the same.
He’s looking into my eyes. ‘I agree about the baggage. But I’m thinking, with your advance and your sponsors you’re back to where you were.’ He gives a grimace. ‘I also know, once you and your bicycle app are back in London, you won’t have time to give any of us in St Aidan a second thought.’
I take a moment to steady my breathing. So that’s his way of, very politely, saying he’s not interested. I mean, I always knew what we had was coming more from my side than his. Our accident happened because of something I’d pushed him into. He didn’t regret it, but obviously he wouldn’t be going there again. I’d be crazy to think anything else. Which is great for me, because knowing that for sure might make me feel as empty as if my insides had left the building. But at least it puts the brakes on my heart rate.
I’m frowning at him. ‘You’ll still be here, then?’
His eyes open wide, then he blinks. ‘It’s all a bit up in the air for me.’
It comes out in a rush before I engage my brain. ‘You wouldn’t like to come – to London?’
He pulls a face. ‘The last thing I want to do is hold you back. So we both know that’s a no.’ He screws up his face, then his voice lightens. ‘So how does it work then – this famous app of yours?’
There’s nothing like a change of subject to clear the air. But then maybe he’s only making conversation until the rain stops. We can hardly stand here in silence. ‘Okay, so I tell the app lots of vital details like my temperature and my period days, and in return it tells me if it’s a green day or a red day.’
He nods. ‘So green means safe?’
