The Sun in Her Eyes

  He laughs with embarrassment. ‘Sorry about this.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ I say, arm-bumping him. ‘Shall we get a bite to eat instead?’

  Twenty minutes later, we’re seated at a candlelit table for two in the window of a cosy Italian restaurant that we happened across in the back streets of Camden. Neither of us has any idea whether the food will be any good, but we figured we couldn’t go too wrong with pasta, and the setting is nice. It’s a wet, blustery evening and there’s something exceedingly lovely about being snug indoors in full view of the trees outside swaying in the wind.

  The waiter pours our wine and leaves us to it. We smile at each other over the rim of our glasses as we each take a sip.

  ‘Well,’ I say. ‘I’m pleased you survived last night.’

  ‘Me too,’ he agrees seriously. ‘But I was worried about you today.’

  ‘Were you?’ I ask with amusement.

  ‘Very,’ he replies, bringing his backpack out from under the table and unzipping it to reveal my red scarf inside. ‘Thank God you had a spare.’ He nods at the blue scarf draped over the back of my seat as he hands over my red one.

  ‘Aah, but this is my favourite.’ I take it from him with a smile.

  ‘Is it? It smells of your perfume,’ he says.

  ‘Does it, now?’ I raise one eyebrow at him and he stares at the ceiling.

  ‘I really wasn’t planning on admitting that,’ he replies eventually, shaking his head with mild discomfort.

  I giggle and then lean forward, changing the subject. ‘So guess what nearly made me miss my stop this morning?’

  His eyes light up. ‘Are you enjoying it?’

  He knows immediately that I’m talking about Twilight, the book he lent me.

  ‘Loving it,’ I reply ardently. ‘I started reading it last night and couldn’t put it down for two hours. I’m knackered!’ I exclaim.

  He grins. ‘Damn, does that mean I can’t keep you up all night?’

  ‘You can keep me up all night, if you want to,’ I reply flippantly, my eyes widening a split second later. ‘I do not mean that how it came out,’ I say pointedly.

  He laughs and rakes his hand through his sandy hair, not taking his hazel eyes from mine. His hair is all mussed up, but I like it like that.

  My butterflies don’t let up over the course of dinner. He’s funny, charming, smart and cute as hell. When we’re waiting for the bill, I leave my hand on the table between us and he leans forward and gently takes it, running his thumb along the edge of my forefinger. His touch prompts little sparks of electricity to zip up my arm and heat my bloodstream.

  ‘What now?’ he asks as we walk out of the restaurant, still buttoning up our coats. The wine has gone straight to my head – I don’t know how he’s faring.

  ‘How about our local for last orders?’

  ‘Good plan.’ He watches me as I wind my red scarf around my neck. We lock eyes and I think he’s going to step forward and kiss me, but he doesn’t.

  The atmosphere is charged as we ride the bus home. Despite how comfortably we conversed during dinner, we seem to have very little to say to each other. We sit side by side and he takes my hand again, this time holding it in his lap. It is astonishing to me how the tiny circular movement of his thumb on my wrist is making me tingle all over. I feel like a coiled spring by the time we’re seated in a dark corner of the pub.

  ‘Do you like living around here?’ I wonder why I’m feeling more nervous now than I did when I saw him in the cinema foyer.

  ‘Yeah, it’s great,’ he replies with a small smile, glancing at my mouth.

  I have a flashback to him kissing me last night and have to will myself to focus. ‘How much longer will you be able to get away with crashing on your mate’s sofa?’

  He shrugs. ‘I don’t know. A week or two. I’m checking out a couple of places tomorrow. Craig’s pretty laid-back. We shared a house at university.’

  ‘Shame he doesn’t have a second bedroom.’

  ‘Yeah, that would have been ideal.’

  ‘Will you try to find something around here?’ I ask hopefully.

  ‘Would you like me to?’ he replies.

  ‘Yes,’ I tell him with a smile.

  His gaze drops to my mouth again and I shiver.

  ‘I can’t believe I’ve never seen you on the bus before,’ I murmur, wishing he’d just get it over with and kiss me.

  He smiles. ‘I’ve seen you three times. It’s your hair.’ He reaches forward, but stops short of touching my auburn locks. ‘It stands out.’ He looks thoughtful. ‘Do you wear glasses sometimes?’

  I nod. ‘But mostly I wear contacts.’

  ‘Glasses suit you. You look sexy,’ he adds, grinning around the mouth of his beer bottle as he takes a swig.

  I laugh. ‘That’s a shame, because I’m getting my eyes lasered the week after next.’

  ‘Are you?’ He recoils. ‘That would totally freak me out.’

  ‘I don’t think I’m going to enjoy it,’ I concede with a smile.

  ‘Do you want me to come and hold your hand?’ he asks cheekily.

  I shake my head. ‘That would be way too distracting.’

  I notice my voice sounds husky and his eyes appear to darken.

  ‘Would it?’ he asks, raising one eyebrow and instinctively reaching for my hand again.

  ‘Mmm-hmm.’ My heartbeat accelerates as he slides his hand up my arm and pulls me towards him. A moment later, we’re kissing.

  The world around us seems to fall away – the busy pub, the late-night revellers, the loud music…

  ‘I’ve been thinking all day about doing this,’ he says against my lips.

  ‘You’ve been wasting time,’ I reply, but he kisses me before I can smile.

  When the lights go on in the pub, I’ve already made up my mind to invite him home. Josie is visiting her parents up north this weekend, so we’ll have the place to ourselves. I don’t know if I’ll have the willpower to resist him if he tries to take it further than kissing on the sofa, but right now, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

  *

  ‘Do you want a drink?’ I ask, my nerves returning as we walk into the dark flat, me switching on lights as I go. ‘Beer, wine, tea, coffee?’

  ‘I’d love a beer if you’ve got one,’ he replies.

  I get him a beer and pour a glass of wine for myself, then we head into the living room. I put on some music and take a seat beside him on the sofa.

  ‘I like your place,’ he says, looking around at the shabby-chic interior.

  ‘Thanks. I only rent it, but I asked the landlord if I could paint it when I moved in. I’ve lived here for just over a year.’

  ‘Who do you live with?’

  ‘A Yorkshire lass called Josie. She’s nice. She’s a nurse.’

  We fall silent and just stare at each other for a long moment, not feeling the need to make small talk. He reaches across and tangles his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck before drawing me towards him.

  His kisses make me shiver – they seem to get better every time, our tongues dancing slowly and erotically against each other.

  ‘I’m going to spill my wine if you’re not careful,’ I say breathily, breaking away.

  He places his beer on the table and I do the same with my glass, before returning to his embrace. My blood pumps hot and fast around my body as he manoeuvres me to straddle his lap. He kisses my neck, and then pauses and inhales deeply.

  ‘You’re so sexy,’ he says in a low voice, nibbling my jaw and making me gulp as his hands snake around my waist, pulling me harder against him.

  I’m a goner. I can’t resist this. If he wants me, I’m his.

  Well done, Amber, a nasty little voice at the back of my mind says. Well done for never managing to find the willpower that you’ve always lacked, from high school right through to university and beyond. I’m disappointed with myself. But still I can’t stop.

  Ned draws back and hol
ds my face in place, inches from his. It’s all I can do to stare back at him.

  ‘God, I fancy you,’ he says.

  I bite my lip and he leans forward and sucks it out from between my teeth.

  ‘I could kiss you all night,’ he adds.

  Is that all?

  A memory slams into me of something Liz once said. ‘You dirty little slut!’ She’d found me in bed at the age of sixteen with my boyfriend at the time. We’d only been going out a few weeks.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, seeing my face.

  I shake my head. ‘Nothing.’

  If I’m dirty and a slut, so be it. People don’t change.

  ‘Tell me,’ he prompts. ‘You want me to go?’

  ‘No!’ I exclaim. ‘I want you to stay,’ I whisper.

  His eyes blaze as my admission sinks in, and my own heartbeat becomes more frantic. He wants this, too, that’s all too clear.

  I like him so much… But will he still be here in the morning?

  Chapter 28

  Liz is practising relaxation techniques with Dad again. It seems to have become part of their morning routine, but it renders me completely useless. If I try to do anything helpful like tidy up the kitchen, she calls through to tell me to be quiet.

  Dad and I were focusing on his speech therapy in the mornings when she was at work. I’d encourage him to say, ‘Round and round the ragged rocks the ragged rascal ran,’ until I was blue in the face.

  Now Liz has wrested control.

  It’s not that I don’t understand where she’s coming from. She’s been on leave since Monday and she doesn’t want to sit around doing nothing. But this is just another solid reminder that the house is not big enough for both of us.

  Yesterday she asked me when I was flying home. I replied that I wasn’t sure and she frowned.

  ‘Haven’t you booked a return ticket?’ she demanded to know.

  I replied yes, for the end of next week, but I was planning on changing it again.

  ‘Why?’ She looked baffled.

  ‘Because Dad might need me when you go back to work.’

  She shook her head. ‘I think Ned might need you more than Len does at the moment, judging by the amount of times he’s tried to call.’

  I was one step away from telling her to mind her own business.

  Last night, Ned threatened to get on a plane to Australia. I told him I needed more time to think without him landing on me unexpectedly. I also reminded him that flights get booked up months in advance and with Easter it’d be even busier.

  That took the wind out of his sails. I sincerely hope he doesn’t do anything stupid like put his name on a waiting list.

  ‘Don’t forget I have my meeting tonight,’ Liz calls after me as I gather my things together. I’m going to meet Nell for lunch, seeing as I’m not needed here.

  ‘I’ll be back this afternoon, don’t worry,’ I reply, closing the door to the sound of her urging Dad to breathe slowly and deeply.

  I’m early so I go for a wander around the shops in North Adelaide before heading to meet Nell in a café not far from the Women’s and Children’s Hospital where she works.

  ‘Busy day?’ I ask after she’s shoved through the door, causing the bells over her head to tinkle noisily.

  ‘I’ve just delivered twins!’ she replies with a smile, her eyes bright and her face flushed as she takes off her coat.

  ‘Aw,’ I say.

  ‘Identical girls.’ She pulls up a seat and slumps into it with a happy sigh. ‘I have the best job.’

  I wonder with a pang how different my life would be if Ned and I had a baby. Would I still be here? Would Ned have found a way to come with me rather than allow our family to be divided? Would I have still quit my job as a teacher?

  ‘Do you and Ned want children?’ Nell startles me out of my reverie by asking. A moment later she registers the look on my face. ‘Was that the wrong thing to say?’

  ‘Not at all,’ I calmly reassure her.

  I’d never keep something from her that I’d already told Tina – I’ve always been conscious of the three’s-a-crowd factor – so I bring her up to date. She looks crestfallen.

  Neither of my Australian friends is at the stage in their life where they’re settling down and having kids, much as they might want to. In a way, this makes it easier to talk about, despite the fact that we haven’t had a whole lot of heart-to-hearts in recent years.

  It’s the opposite with my friends back home.

  Alicia and I fell pregnant within weeks of each other. She now has a baby girl called Bree who, to my shame, I have seen only a handful of times.

  I wasn’t lying to her about my brokering job being demanding, but I definitely overused it as an excuse on the many occasions that she asked to catch up. I’m sure she understood the real reason for my reluctance, but nevertheless she undoubtedly found it hurtful.

  I can’t believe how far I’ve distanced myself, not just from Alicia, but from Josie and Gretchen, too.

  Josie, my gorgeous former-flatmate-turned-friend, is now happily married to Craig, the mate whose sofa Ned kipped on when he first moved to London. We introduced them to each other one night at the Bull & Last after Ned had moved out of Craig’s flat into a house-share in Archway. Ned’s new place was totally rank, but he and I were stupidly delighted because we were only a fifteen-minute walk away from each other.

  We’d barely been apart since our first date – he’d even come out with my friends for my birthday celebrations the night after we slept together. We’d spent the whole day with each other, too.

  When Josie and Craig hooked up, we became a foursome. They’re shortly expecting their first child together.

  As for Gretchen, I’ve barely seen her since leaving the school. When she joined a couple of years after me, we almost instantly struck up an easy banter, nipping out to the pub on Friday lunchtimes and gossiping about everyone and everything. Back then I was full of enthusiasm for teaching. I felt a real connection to my students and it brought me so much joy to see them turning corners and improving where they never thought they would.

  Now Gretchen just reminds me of everything I lost. All of my friends do.

  I know this is not fair. What happened was not their fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Do I really in my heart of hearts believe Ned thinks it was mine? Or am I just using culpability as an excuse to hit out at him? Am I hurting the person I care about most, in order to ultimately hurt myself?

  Why the bloody hell would I want to do that?

  I think I might need to see a psychiatrist.

  I force a smile at Nell and ask how things are going with George. She accepts the change of subject and, as a consequence, the rest of our lunch is far more pleasant.

  The next day is Good Friday and Tina has organised another night out in town. I don’t actually feel like a big one – I’ve barely touched a drop since the last time I got hammered – but we’ll see how long my resolve lasts once I’m safely ensconced in a bar.

  I haven’t seen Ethan since Tuesday, but he texted me last night to ask if I was going tonight. I replied and said that I was, and he said that he’d see me there, but I didn’t experience the thrill I would have felt a week ago. I’m still unsettled about Tina’s revelation, but that’s not just it.

  I can’t stop thinking about Ned. How we met… How our relationship developed… How he proposed… And the more I allow myself to dwell on him, the worse I feel about cheating. Sometimes I feel like I could literally throw up at the thought of what I’ve done.

  Yesterday an envelope arrived with a whole bunch of cards inside from Ned’s family, plus cards from Alicia, Gretchen and Josie.

  This evening these last three are still sitting in their envelopes on my bedside table, in all their pastel-coloured glory. Who would have thought the sight could seem so threatening?

  I know I have a lot of sorting out to do when I go home.

  If I go home.

  It would be so much eas
ier to stay.

  On impulse I reach for Gretchen’s card and tear open the envelope. I recognise her handwriting.

  Happy birthday, Amber! I miss you! It’s been so long since we caught up. Guess what? I’ve just jacked in my job! I’ve accepted a position in Essex from the autumn term! Mr Bunton went nuts when I told him. There have been two other resignations since Chrimbo and he still hasn’t got the message – what an arse! Anyway, you probably don’t want to hear about school, but I’m thinking of you and I hope we can catch up when you get back.

  Lots of love, your friend always, Gretchen xxx

  Wow – she’s leaving! That makes me feel weird and relieved all at the same time. It hurt to think of her at that school without me, even though I had no desire to return. I suddenly long to sit her down and demand that she give up the goss immediately, just like she used to. I sigh and turn back to my task.

  The next card I open is from Alicia, and my heart pinches at the sight of the messy green-paint baby handprint on the left-hand side.

  Happy birthday, gorgeous! Bree wanted to send you her love, too. Hope you can come and hang out with us soon. God, PLEASE come and hang out with us soon. I feel like I’m going round the bend here. How much tea and cake can one mum stuff into her face? I miss you! Let’s drink wine – screw breastfeeding! (Joke…)

  Loads of love, Leesh xxx

  I laugh out loud and tears spring from my eyes. God, I miss her, too. And I do want to see Bree, I realise. I want to be a part of her life. Too much time has passed.

  Finally, I open Josie’s card.

  Dearest Amber

  Happy birthday, pet! I hope you get some downtime today. I’m so proud of you for looking after your dad. I know how hard it must be. I hear from Ned that he’s seen a big improvement so I hope you can come home soon. I’ve been thinking of you a lot lately, and I miss hanging out on your sofa. Sending you big birthday hugs until I can give you one in person – and it will be big. I’m enormous.

  Love ya! Josie xxxx

  Bless her. She must be eight months pregnant now, and already on maternity leave. She’s a nurse, so she has a better idea than any of my friends what it’s like to care for a stroke survivor.