The Forever Home by Sue Watson
Chapter Fifteen
‘I’m scared to death of rats; anyone who knows me knows that,’ I cried, unable to get the feeling of blood off my hands and the sight of that writhing mass out of my head.
‘Yeah, I remember you telling me the other day, about when Mark teased you, that he’d found one in the attic,’ he said. Then he hesitated, and his eyes locked on mine. ‘You don’t think he…’
‘I don’t think so. He’d have no reason to… would he?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, but there was doubt in his voice.
‘I’m so confused, Ryan, things keep happening, and I feel like I can’t trust anyone.’
‘You can trust me,’ he sighed, putting both his arms around me and drawing me close to him, resting his chin on my head. ‘I’d never do anything to make you scared.’
I relaxed in his arms, then I lifted my head and looked up at him. ‘Who would do something like that, Ryan?’
He touched my hand, laced his fingers through mine, and gently guided me into the house where we sat down together. ‘I don’t know, but they must be very sick.’
‘Thanks for clearing the garden,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t face it.’
‘I think I’ve got rid of everything now, it’s all in the bin. I might take it to the tip tomorrow. The binmen aren’t due for a few days and if it gets warm…’
‘Yes, not a pleasant thought,’ I shuddered, ‘but really, Ryan, you don’t have to go to all that trouble.’
‘I want to,’ he said, and in spite of what had happened, or perhaps because of what had happened, it felt so natural sitting there together. I got the feeling that Ryan wanted to be my protector, that he liked looking after me.
I leaned my head in the crook of his arm; the feel of his brushed cotton checked shirt on my face was comforting. I breathed him in, washing powder and aftershave, not French or expensive, just clean, honest, no pretentions. Surely the kids were wrong to think he might be after money? I didn’t know him well, but I knew when a man was a cheat and a liar – I’d been married to one long enough. To me, Ryan was none of those things, and perhaps it was time to trust my own judgement and make my own choices? This was about being me again, and doing what I wanted to do, which might mean taking some risks, diving into an unknown ocean. And any mistakes I did make, I’d be the only one to pay for them.
‘You said – before, about Erin, that she was vile to you. Do you think it was her…?’ I heard him say.
I kept my face half on his chest, didn’t want to leave. ‘I don’t know, but I wouldn’t put it past her.’
‘What did she say to you, when you saw her in town?’
‘Oh, just stuff about me being jealous, crowing about the baby and Mark. It was water off a duck’s back,’ I lied. ‘But as she slammed out of the tearooms, she yelled that I was a selfish cow living here, while they live in a little cottage.’
‘But why would she say that?’
‘She seems to be under the impression from Mark that he owns the house. And I’m rattling around in it, apparently. She thinks I’m the bloody tenant and should leave so they can move in.’
‘You’re not, though, are you?’ he asked. ‘It’s all yours, is that right?’ He was looking at me, his eyes full of interest in what I was saying, and I thought about my telephone conversation with Phoebe. Gold digger.
Was he just sticking up for me, or was he keen to nail down the fact that I owned the house?
I nodded, slowly. ‘Yeah, I thought I’d told you – Mum moved out when we got married, and gave it to me.’
‘Good, so, Mark and Erin don’t have any right to it,’ he said indignantly.
‘Well, it’s not that straightforward, some of it belongs to Mark,’ I said, trying to gauge his reaction. ‘I gave half the house to him as a gift on our first wedding anniversary.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Wow.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ I sighed. ‘I thought we’d be together forever and Mark had said he felt uncomfortable living in my house, so I went to a solicitor and gifted half to him. It made sense, at the time. But, trust me, once I get that half back from him in the divorce settlement, it’s staying firmly in my possession.’ I watched for his reaction again, but it was hard to decipher. After that conversation with Phoebe, I was overthinking everything he said, which wasn’t fair; he’d been nothing but kind and helpful to me. ‘Same goes for the business, The Andersons Ltd – I still own half of that, and it’s staying with me too. I managed it, and did all the accounts – until he left. I think his agent does all that now; she’s welcome to it, but I’m still determined to get my share of what I’m owed.’
‘Will you stay here, once everything’s finalised?’ he asked.
‘Yes, this is my home, I love it here. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.’ I looked at him. ‘And I can’t imagine any other woman living here – apart from Phoebe of course. I want to hand this down to the kids, like my parents did for me.’
‘I understand why you’d want to stay here,’ he sighed. ‘I mean, it’s a beautiful house, and the location – well.’
‘Yeah, who can blame me for feeling possessive? I don’t want Erin moving into my home; she already took my husband. Besides, she wouldn’t appreciate it, not in the way I do,’ I added. I never failed to be taken aback by the panoramic view; the sea was stunning, there was nowhere quite like it. The house had been featured in lots of glossy magazines over the years and we’d been contacted by people offering huge sums of money for it. Mark wanted to sell a few times, but I wasn’t prepared to, at any price. ‘It’s a family home,’ I’d said, ‘and it’s staying in the family.’
‘Ryan, do you think Erin has a point, it’s a big house – and now the kids have gone—’
‘No. It’s not selfish to want to stay in your own home. Especially because he was the one who cheated. He can’t throw you out, can he?’ Ryan looked alarmed.
‘No, that’s why I’ve asked for the other half back in the divorce settlement.’
‘Good. I was worried for a minute I was putting all this love into your brickwork only for him to move back in. If he did, I’d take a hammer to it, pull the lot down,’ he said. And I think he meant it.
I laughed. ‘No, he won’t be coming back here.’ I patted his arm to reassure him. His interest in the house was about protecting me; he wasn’t interested in what I was worth. But he did seem to be slightly jealous of Mark, which was actually strangely nice.
‘I remember Erin,’ he suddenly said. ‘She was a weird kid. You might not remember but my mum was a childminder, and sometimes we had to have Erin at ours after school when their au pair was off, or had been sacked or whatever.’ He said au pair in a funny voice; it made me smile. ‘Never liked her. I was in my teens by then. Mum had always looked after kids and they were okay – no problem. But Erin, she was something else. I remember she once smashed a plate and blamed it on another kid. She always made the little ones cry – I could see it and I told my mum, but she just used to say “poor Erin”.’
‘Yeah, she wasn’t a happy child,’ I sighed.
‘Yeah, and she’s grown into a spoilt adult. Max, my brother went out with her, a while back. He really fell for her, they talked about moving in together, then she dumped him.’
‘Doesn’t surprise me, she just thinks she can have anything she wants, and she takes it, like with Mark. But, then again, it takes two. Mark is supposed to be the older, wiser one, after all.’ I shook my head, still shocked at the depth of their betrayal. ‘I treated her like she was one of us, and she could be difficult, but I never reprimanded her, just tried to understand her, especially after what happened with her dad.’
‘Yeah, I remember her father drowning; the lifeboats were out that morning.’
‘God yes, that was a horrible day. Lara was a mess. Mark was close to him too, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so upset.’
‘Someone told me Lara was leaving him, that’s why he killed himself.’
‘No, that was just a rumour. They were happy, Lara adored him. She said he’d had depression on and off, I think it just got him in a grip and he couldn’t cope,’ I said, remembering the agony Lara went through when she lost him. ‘He was a good man, I wouldn’t have put him with Lara, he was quiet, and seemed too sensible for her. But I think he was a calming influence, and for a while after he died, she totally lost it. She locked herself in the house with Erin and wouldn’t let me see her, wouldn’t even answer the phone to me. She said she just needed time to heal. Everyone deals with grief their own way, don’t they?’
‘Yeah,’ Ryan sighed, then paused before asking, ‘Do you think she’ll be okay, Erin I mean?’
‘Erin?’
‘With Mark. I mean, he hurt you – do you think he’s hurt her?’
‘I don’t know, I hope not. People change, don’t they? He’s older now, he might be different with her?’ In truth I hadn’t really given any thought to this, and I was surprised Ryan had.
We sat in silence, both thinking about the implications of this, and then he smiled at me. His eyes were a soft deep brown – kind eyes, I thought.
‘You are lovely,’ he said.
I blushed like a teenager.
‘I really like you, Carly. I’ve always…’ he paused, ‘had a bit of a thing for you.’
‘Really?’ I was amazed. I’d never really given him much thought; he was a teenager, and I was a young mum.
‘Yeah, when I used to come here and help my dad. I was in my teens and just thought you were so beautiful. I used to love watching you play with the children in the garden. Your hair was always really white in the sunshine. Once, you gave me a glass of lemonade, it had a sprig of mint in it…’ He put his head down.
‘What?’ I asked, bemused.
‘I don’t know why I’m telling you this – it’s stupid, but I kept that sprig of mint for ages. I pressed it in one of my schoolbooks.’
‘Ahh.’ I was so touched. ‘I was younger then, just a girl.’
‘You’re still that girl to me. You were my first crush.’
‘It’s so lovely of you to say that, but I’m not that girl any more—’
Before I could finish, he leaned over, took me in his arms and kissed me. I knew there was no escape from this, it was what my mind and body were crying out for, and this time, it was me who took his hand and guided him upstairs to my bedroom.
Later, we lay together on my bed. I felt different – it sounds dramatic, but like I’d been reborn. I’d never imagined I’d ever sleep with anyone but Mark, even after he left. This was the loveliest, most wonderful surprise.
‘You’re not scared, are you?’ Ryan’s voice was gentle.
‘No, why?’
‘The parcel that came earlier, I keep thinking about it.’
‘Oh?’ After everything, I’d almost forgotten about the horror, what had happened with Ryan almost erased the revulsion and fear, but now it was slowly creeping back. ‘It’s probably meaningless,’ I sighed, and turned to rest my head on his warm chest. It felt good to have him to hold.
‘I was thinking,’ he said, ‘it might be a warning? Mark and Erin want you out of the house and think if they make you scared here on your own, you’ll move?’
Lying there in his arms, I felt reassured, safe. I could think things through more clearly than when I was alone and scared. ‘They may have sent the note too,’ I offered.
‘And Mark has keys, he could have let himself in late at night?’ Ryan added.
‘Yeah, but it’s not really his style. I can’t see Mark getting involved in something to scare me, he’d be too worried about getting caught, and ending up on the front pages.’
‘That would be funny,’ he sighed.
‘Also, they’ve gone to a lot of trouble to piss me off. They’ve sourced a dead rat and wrapped it all in posh tissue and ribbon. Mark wouldn’t touch it, the blood might stain his suit. And gift-wrapping companies don’t usually wrap rats,’ I added, with a smile.
‘Yeah, you’re right. The last time I needed a dead rat wrapping, I had to do it myself.’
‘Exactly,’ I laughed. ‘I think Erin’s capable, and probably disturbed enough, but she’s about to give birth. And – a dead rat in beautiful wrapping, it’s a bit mafia, isn’t it? I mean, what next? A horse’s head in my bed?’
He laughed, softly kissing the top of my head.
‘What a morning it’s been,’ I said, ‘one minute we’re kissing, the next we’re killing maggots together, then we’re in bed, and it isn’t even noon.’
‘Yeah, for a first date, it’s been a bit Halloween, hasn’t it?’
I cringed, trying not to think about the white swarm curling its way along the rug.
‘I tried to pretend I was this fearless guy and you could rely on me for anything,’ he said.
‘You convinced me,’ I replied. ‘You are my dragon slayer.’
‘And you’re the woman of my dreams,’ he said, pulling me close. ‘And you make me laugh.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s the joy of an older woman,’ I said. ‘We can always find something to laugh at – after twenty-five years of marriage and two kids you learn to have a sense of humour. It’s not life and death, is it?’
The following morning, I woke to find Ryan had gone. His clothes weren’t on the floor where he’d left them. I was new to all this, and wondered how relationships worked in the twenty-first century. Was this even a relationship? I might just be a one-night stand, a notch on his bedpost. I smiled to myself. Either way, he was a good-looking thirty-something, and I had nothing to be ashamed of. My mind was drawn back to the night before. Ryan’s flesh tasted of sea salt, reminding me of all the boys I’d kissed by the cliffs as a teenager. He had a good body, firm, and slim, his muscles defined, and just thinking about it now, I felt an excited little giggle at the back of my throat.
If it never happened again, no one could take away last night, I thought, skipping into the shower. Yes, in spite of all the unpleasant things that had happened to me in the past few months, peaking with yesterday’s ‘gift’ – I was happy. I’d discovered that there was life after my husband, and it felt good.
I dug out an old loofah and gave my whole body a scrub. Then, once out of the shower, I found an old pot of body cream that once belonged to Phoebe – and I slathered myself in it. I had someone to be soft for now. And slipping on a cotton floral dress, I took a look in the full-length mirror, something I’d avoided for a long time. You go, girl, I thought, as I twirled around, shaking out my wet hair, applying a little lipstick and mascara.
Happy with how I looked, I ran down the stairs to see if Ryan was around, and to my joy, I found him in the garden. He was sorting through a pile of bricks, and I took a moment to watch him. It was like I’d never seen him before. He was suddenly so much more – tall, tanned, strong. I wanted to skip over the grass barefoot, and run my hands through his thick, dark hair as I had the night before. But I resisted. I didn’t want to come on too strong and scare him off, so I just opened up the glass doors and asked if he’d like a coffee. That way, he had options as to how he responded to me. Were we client and builder, or lovers?
‘That’d be great,’ he said, wiping sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, and I knew by the way his eyes swept over me that I wasn’t his client. I was his lover; the thought filled me with happiness and the kind of thrill I hadn’t felt in years. ‘You look cute,’ he said, looking me up and down.
I thanked him, and turned to go back in the kitchen, feeling a rush of blood to my face. I had to keep reminding myself I was forty-seven years old, not seventeen. I made the coffee, thinking how easily I could fall for Ryan if I let myself, but my mind wandered back to my telephone conversation with Phoebe, sweet-talking gold digger, the Jarvis boys have a reputation. Should I let my guard down so easily? I was insecure about handing my heart to the first man that came along after Mark. Besides, did Ryan even want my heart? If not, what did he want?