Page 20 of The Trouble With Love

‘I sent you home in a taxi instead of taking you into my bed, was that what you meant? That was warning you off me? You’ve clearly not been on the receiving end of many real warnings.’ He jolted the Jeep around in a semicircle. We were off-road, deep within the forest, parked at the bottom of a deep depression filled with birch and oak leaves like snowdrifts. ‘So, you fancy me and you reckon I should reciprocate?’

‘It felt like reciprocation the other night.’ I kept staring out of the windscreen at the sporadic leaves that floated from above like broken kites.

‘It . . .’ he bit off whatever the end of that sentence might have been. ‘We were playing, that was all. Teasing. I’m sorry if you read more into it than was intended.’

‘Look, forget it. I’ve just had a guy set off a shotgun next to my head, I’m not thinking straight.’

‘Too right you’re not.’ To my surprise he sighed deeply. ‘Did Cerys set you up for this? Holly, my daughter knows nothing about my life, whatever she might think and whatever she might have told you. It’s . . . difficult. I’m not . . . I like women . . . I like you, but I’m not in the right place for anything right now. We had a bit of a game going that night and, yeah, okay, I admit it, it did cross my mind that the evening might have ended differently but . . .’ His accent strengthened for a moment, then he gave another sigh and leaned back in the driver’s seat, using one hand to push the hair off his face. ‘Wrong time, wrong place.’

‘I wasn’t looking for a proposal, Kai. A good time would have done.’

A steady stare and a shaken head. ‘It felt . . . yeah, wrong, that’s all I can say. Like — jeez, can’t believe I’m saying this — like something would have been spoiled if I’d taken you to my bed.’

I remembered him chasing around his house looking for spell items for me. He’d been fun then, charming and outgoing, no sign that there had been anything awry. Now here, he seemed locked-down, wary.

‘I think you’re scared.’

‘Really.’ Fingers tapped the wheel. ‘And what of?’ He was doing that calm, listening thing that he’d done the other night, too. Waiting for me to show myself.

‘Well, you seemed to be quite happy to give me the come-on right up until I asked you about yourself, and I think it freaked you out. So maybe you’re afraid because I asked, after all, if you never give anything of yourself, then how can anyone actually get close to you, hey? Like . . . yes, like friends. Do you have any friends, Kai?’

He turned towards me and slowly closed his eyes. ‘Well. Score one for the apparently superficial woman.’ When he opened them his pupils were huge. It turned the golden irises into pale rings around the darkness, like eclipses. ‘Holly.’ The chill of his ring bit the warm flesh under my chin as his fingers touched my face. ‘Holly.’ His voice was a whisper now, very Welsh, my name brushing against my own lips as he brought his mouth to mine.

I knew I was being played, knew this was to keep me quiet, almost to buy me off, but as soon as the kiss started I didn’t care. He tasted of cucumber and mint, his teeth grazed across my upper lip and I could hear nothing but his breathing, feel nothing but the heat rising in me. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the kiss was over, he pulled away and put his head on his arms, resting on the steering wheel. ‘And that’s all you get.’

‘Wow.’ I said, when I could trust my voice. ‘Well. That’s one hell of a waste of a sexy body.’

‘Yours or mine?’ Now he sat up, shaking his hair off his face, and I started to laugh. He joined in until we were both rocking with laughter, steaming up the windows of the Jeep with it and probably disturbing every hibernating creature for a hundred yards.

Chapter Eleven

Megan lay on her sofa looking wan. She’d managed to dispense with the bucket but was still a bit touch-and-go.

‘I brought you some more Lucozade.’ I unpacked the shopping on her table. Her dependency made it a bit like dealing with a female version of Nicky. ‘And some ice cream for when you feel a bit more like eating. Oh, and some more toilet paper — has that stopped yet?’

‘I feel a bit better today.’ She struggled up onto one elbow, fighting her way free of the duvet which enclosed her. ‘And you didn’t even get a bit queasy?’

‘Nope.’

‘I must have got some of the frog.’ Going pale, she lay carefully down again. ‘I think I might need the bucket back, actually.’

‘Do you want me to call the doctor?’

A brave shake of the head. ‘It’s passing. So, what’s the news from the big, wide world? Anything happening? Heard anything from the others?’

‘Vivienne left a message, there’s a meeting tomorrow night for us to compare notes. But I’m going to ask that we stay in the cottage. I mean, stuff the bloody rituals, there’s blokes out in those woods with guns. Not very nice blokes at that. Oh, and the weather forecast is horrible for the beginning of next week. Snow and stuff. You’re in the best place, all snuggled up in here.’

There was suddenly a terrible clattering, clanging noise from the little yard outside the flat. ‘That’s that bloody dog again.’ Indignation drove a little colour into Megan’s cheeks. ‘I can’t find out who it belongs to, but it keeps on going through my dustbin. Holl, please would you go out and make sure it hasn’t dragged all that horrible grease down the yard again? I don’t think I could stand the sight of it all reappearing . . .’ She blanched and took some deep breaths. ‘Please,’ she repeated.

I went out of her flat and down the two flights that led to the locked back door out to the yard, where the residents of the four flats kept their bins. Also their old bicycles, radiators, prams, mattresses and anything else that was too big for the bin and too broken to sell. I unlocked it with Meg’s huge old-fashioned key and stepped outside where the wind hit me like pins, tiny sharp points digging into my skin even in the relative shelter of the enclosed area and little bouts of hail bounced around my ankles. I looked around. A six-foot wall ran all round the yard, topped with broken glass which had yet to deter a peeping Tom, although it gave the residents an illusion of security, and the only way in was through the locked door. It smelled of old fat, bleach, and sour damp.

I saw the dog eventually, cowering behind a wheelie bin, with a mouthful of newspaper, and a guilty expression. It was a big dog, almost Alsatian-sized, but there its similarity to any recognised breed ended. It had one ear up, one ear down, a bit of backcombed string for a tail and a dirty brindled grey coat like something which had failed to sell in a jumble sale. I tried speaking to it, but it huddled even further back, obviously terrified, and showed me its teeth, with a desperate look on its face, as though its mouth was growling without the brain’s permission. I relocked the door and went back upstairs.

‘It must belong to someone in one of the flats,’ I said, thankfully getting in front of the gas fire. ‘Probably someone who’s out at work all day. I should call the RSPCA if I were you, it doesn’t look very well cared for.’

‘And had it been through my bin?’

‘It was eating newspaper, but without closer examination I couldn’t tell if it was yours.’

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