It was light when I woke, and my bed was empty. It took me a few seconds to remember why I was naked and the muscles of my thighs felt as if I’d been on the rowing machine at the gym. Heat infused my body as I recalled exactly why.
I buried my face in my pillows and groaned. The cottage was silent too. He must have gone back to his caravan leaving me asleep. I ran my tongue across my lips trying to bring some moisture back to the surface. Memories of Steve’s fierce and demanding kisses made me curl up in a ball. I wished I could undo the events of the previous night.
It was no use. I fumbled for my nightshirt and yanked it on over my head. I needed a cup of tea and a slice of marmalade smothered toast to restore my equilibrium and give me a sugar boost before I saw Steve. I collected my bra from the stairs on my way to the kitchen. My knickers lay on the tiles next to the kitchen table.
Cringing, I stuffed them into the washing machine and slotted some bread in the toaster. I glanced through the kitchen window. Thankfully the rain from the day before had disappeared and it promised to be a lovely summer day.
I collected my tea and toast and opened the back door. Air already warm from the morning sunshine caressed my bare legs as I carried my breakfast outside onto the patio. Skirting the scaffolding, I sat down carefully at the patio table, tugging my nightshirt down so that it properly covered my bum. Birds chirped and warbled happily in the walnut tree and the clippings of the weeds I’d cleared yesterday added a fresh, green perfume to the air.
Surrounded by the peaceful atmosphere of a Sunday morning I munched my toast and tried to think through what I should do. Why had I gone to bed with Steve?
Lust? Habit? I took a gulp of my tea. What did it say about his relationship with Her if he was so willing to have sex with me?
I brushed the crumbs from my mouth when I saw Steve walking towards me along the garden path. He’d changed from last nights Levi’s into the canvas board shorts he wore when working and an old Danger Line tee shirt. I fidgeted on my seat and wished I’d put my knickers on before coming outside.
“Um, morning.” He halted on the patio a couple of feet away and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his shorts.
“Morning.” I studied his expression for some clue. Did he regret sleeping with me?
“About last night…” He hesitated.
“Yeah, well, it was just one of those things.” I said quickly. I couldn’t bear it if he said it had been a big mistake or some other crap like that. It had been a big mistake but I didn’t want him to say it out loud.
“Um, if you like, just one of those things.” His brown eyes were serious and thoughtful as if he wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure what.
“Look, I think it’s better if we pretend last night never happened.” I tried to sound confident and assertive like Lou would be.
“If that’s what you want.” He frowned.
“Absolutely, well I’d better go and get dressed. I want to chop down more of the jungle today.” I picked up my mug and plate. The sooner this highly awkward and embarrassing encounter was over the better and we could resume our separate lives once more.
“I’ll try and finish getting the bath plumbed in today so you can use it.” Steve dropped his gaze and kicked at a small stone on the patio.
“That would be nice; the whole getting strip-washed in the kitchen is getting old.” My face heated even as the words left my mouth. Yes, I’d stripped off in the kitchen the previous night.
A dull red stain appeared on Steve’s cheekbones and he couldn’t quite meet my eyes.
“Kate, I um, never mind.” He shook his head and walked off inside the house.
I wondered what else he’d planned to say.
I followed behind him at a slower pace. Once I heard the sound of hammering and banging coming from the upstairs bathroom I had my usual scrub down at the kitchen sink and promised myself a long soak in the newly fitted bath later on.
I dressed in my gardening gear, stuffed a load of clothes into the washer and headed outside to fire up the strimmer. Attacking the remains of the bramble mountain would be therapeutic and might help me work out all the crap that was whizzing through my head. After last night I was a jumbled wreck.
I’d spent the last few months convincing myself that Steve and I were over.
Going on dates with Mike was supposed to confirm that. It was supposed to have marked the start of a new page in my life, one where I’d go out and meet other men.
Instead I’d agreed with Mike we should just be friends and come home to jump straight into bed with my ex. This was not the direction my life was supposed to take.
Steve hadn’t shown any signs this morning of wanting to try again with our relationship. Why would he? I’d made it pretty clear how I’d seen the relationship going a few months ago and by buying this damned cottage he’d shown he hadn’t seen it the same way. I’d seen marriage, children and a lovely forever home. He’d seen sex on tap, free labour, this dump of a house and a profit margin.
Then there was Her, the stunningly youthful Chloe. I snapped my goggles into place and wriggled my fingers inside the thick protective yellow material of my gloves. What was going on there? Of course, when he’d been in the band there had been women, lots and lots of women.
It had always puzzled me that he’d ended up with me. I mean compared with some of the girls he’d been pictured with in the past I was distinctly on the ordinary side. As far as I knew though Steve hadn’t strayed while we’d been together although Nasreen, and plenty of other women like her, had tried their best to seduce him.
This train of thought annoyed me and I fired up the industrial strimmer and attacked the huge clump of blackberry brambles which had spilled out onto the path.
Massacring the weeds was amazingly therapeutic and provided a great deal of prickly satisfaction as I chopped and cleared the ground.
As the morning warmed up I decided to stop for a drink. Without the noise of the strimmer’s petrol motor ringing in my ears I could hear the familiar sounds of the garden once again. I could also hear Steve singing as I walked back inside the house.
He often sang while he worked, sometimes he sang along with the radio or often it was an old Danger Line track. Today though, I didn’t recognise the lyrics.
It was something new, a ballad. I filled my glass with juice from the carton in the fridge and strained to hear the words. He hadn’t written a new song for years but I knew instinctively from the tone of his voice that this was his writing. Perhaps I’d been right when I’d wondered if Jamie had come here to persuade Steve to go back to the music business. Then where would that leave me?
“Somebody sounds happy in their work.”
Startled by the unexpected voice I whirled around, and spilt half my juice on the floor.
“Sorry, did I make you jump?” Gormless Gary stood in the doorway.
I placed my glass down on the counter. My hands were shaking and my heart thumped from his unexpected appearance.
“Pass me that cloth from by the sink, I need to mop this up or the ants will be in.”
He tossed the dishcloth over to me and continued to look apologetic. “I thought I’d come round and see if you guys had any work I might be able to help with?”
As he spoke Steve appeared in the kitchen. He frowned when he saw Gary and I flashed him a meaningful look to remind him to keep quiet about Lou’s pregnancy.
“I mean I can do labouring and things. It was okay when I helped you out on your last house.” He looked hopefully at the two of us.
“I dunno. It’s not that we don’t need a hand but there isn’t much left in the kitty to pay for help.” Steve picked up my juice glass and drank what was left.
“A few quid would help. It’d tide me over for a while and keep me busy.”
I glared at Steve as he replaced the empty glass on the worktop. If Gary could start rotovating the area of brambles that I’d cleared and chuck all the rubbish in the skip it would free me up from a lot of very heavy work. Mentally I totted up if we could afford it.
“We couldn’t give you much and it’s heavy work,” I warned.
Gary’s face broke into a smile and I remembered why Lou usually ended up giving him another chance. “Cheers Kate, you won’t regret it.”
I was already regretting it when Steve gave me a murderous glare and stalked off back upstairs.
“Okay, you used the rotovator on the last job we did, didn’t you?” I finished wiping up my spilled drink and rinsed the cloth under the tap.
“Yep, got my certificate and everything from when I had that job at the council. It was a nice job, that one.”
I bit my tongue. That was the job Gary had lost due to his inability to recognise Monday as the first day of the working week.
“I’ve started clearing the garden but there are a lot of roots and stumps. Some of the stuff will need digging out and then you can rotovate it.”
He followed me outside and I showed him where the tools were. It promised to be a long day what with Gary working by my side and things still standing so awkwardly between me and Steve. I strapped my goggles back on, pulled on my gloves and set back to work.
By mid afternoon every muscle in my body ached. Between us, Gary and I had cleared and started to dig over at least one third of the garden. There had been little worth saving except the walnut tree, everything else was too far gone or choked with weeds.
“Looking better.” Gary flopped down on the patio chair next to me and wiped his face with the hem of his tee shirt.
“Yes, thanks Gary, I wouldn’t have got this far without help.” He had worked hard and I appreciated his efforts.
He peeled his shirt off revealing a tanned, muscular torso. “Cheers.” He took a swig from the can of lager I’d filched from Steve’s shelf in the fridge. I reckoned he owed me after all the coffee, milk and biscuits he’d pinched from me lately .
“I wondered if you’d had chance to give Lou my message yet? You know you said you’d tell her to call me.” Gary’s expression was hopeful.
“I did tell her, but you know how things are when you get busy.” Damn, I hadn’t said anything to Lou about Gary.
“Oh.” He took another swig of his beer.
I felt really mean. There wasn’t any harm in Gary and he did care about Lou.
It might not be such a bad thing after all if he was the father of Lou’s baby. At least with Gary he was a known quantity. A rather hopeless known quantity but, unlike Jamie, we would have some idea of what to expect.
“Is she seeing someone else?” Gary broke into my reverie.
I fidgeted uncomfortably on my chair. “Well, I’m not sure. There was someone but I don’t know if she’s still seeing him now.” I had no clue what the state of play was between my sister and Jamie. I hadn’t asked her.
“Right, I just wondered that’s all.” Gary sighed and finished his drink.
Steve was still inside working in the bathroom. I found some cash to pay Gary for his help and put the empty lager tin in the recycling box. I’d just finished washing the dirt from my arms and hands when Steve came back into the kitchen.
“Has he gone?”
I nodded. “Actually, he’s been very helpful.”
Steve snorted. “Well come and see your bathroom. You can test the bath out later.”
I filed up the stairs behind him conscious of an ever stronger scent assailing my nostrils.
* * *
The smell of the lavender is soothing. I have been making soap for Dorcas to sell at the market with some of the crop. It is hot and sweaty work in the summer heat and my back aches. I am confined to the house and the gardens. Father does not want word of my condition to become fodder for common gossip. I have heard today that Thomas Crabbe is to wed Elizabeth Lines, a spinster from the next village. It is a good match for her as her father cannot provide her with a large dowry. The news has not helped my father’s ill humour with me, however.
* * *
“I can smell lavender again.”
Steve shrugged. “You’ve been gardening.”
“I told you before, there’s no lavender out there.” I tried to think if any of the cleaning products I’d been using in the kitchen had lavender in them but I was pretty sure they didn’t. Besides, it would have been noticeable downstairs if that had been the case.
“It’s all working. You won’t be able to use the shower until after I’ve finished and the grouting is dry but you can soak in the tub now.”
“Great.” I was suddenly aware of how grimy and smelly I must be.
Steve pushed the bathroom door right back so I could see inside. The bath was now in place and plumbed in and he’d been busy tiling the walls around the shower.
The bath was full with soapy water and there was a multitude of tealights, standing on spare tiles around the bath. The room smelt delicious and vanillary and a pile of clean fluffy towels had been placed on a chair ready for me to use. My heart twinged at Steve’s kindness. I swallowed the lump that had crept into my throat.
“I’m knocking off for the day so it’s be all yours. You’ve been a star to put up with this over the last few days. I, er, got you this to try and make up for messing up with the window and everything.” His cheeks reddened and he produced a small bag which he thrust towards me.
I peered inside. “Thank you.” It contained a bottle of one of my favourite Jo Malone bath oils. Impulsively, I kissed his cheek, feeling the faint rasp of stubble against my lips.
He stepped away quickly as if I’d got something contagious. “I’ll take these out of your way and then you can enjoy your bath.” He picked up a bucket containing his tools and left me standing in the bathroom doorway holding my unexpected gift.