Page 19 of Blindsided By You
And on Thursday, in her office, when I saw her distress at the dangerous faulty wiring, I knew there was this small thing I could do. I don’t have much to offer, but I’m a practical man. I can keep her safe. I’d never let harm come to her.
This is new territory for me, but the speed and depth of what’s overtaken me says I shouldn’t ignore it. If this woman provokessomething different in me, that’s every reason to go after it and see where it leads.
No way am I letting her sit on this bus alone today, everyone treating her like she’s got the plague because her dad still thinks she’s thirteen, not thirty-four. Because he’s made sure no one else will take this seat, but then abandoned her to sit on her own all the way to bloody Edinburgh. The least the old bastard could have done was sit with her. I’m hoping that either he doesn’t notice, or he trusts me more than the rest of them, given Jenna’s history with my sister Rachel. It’s the latter that’s more likely to save me.
Taking this seat beside her is impulsive. Risky. But I’m not passing up the chance. I catch Nathan’s eye and he gives me an encouraging wink. It was a relief to have a man-to-man on the subject of Jenna in a back booth at the Railway last night. His advice was the same as at practice on Wednesday: if you feel that way, go for it, so I am.
I pause to sling my bag in the overhead locker. It seems only fair to give her a chance to veto the move. Also dangerous. It gives her the chance for public rejection. My heart crushed in front of the lads, my humiliation relived in endless retellings. But if she doesn’t? This could become the stuff of a different type of retelling—the day I hooked up with your mother; kids, that’s where it started. Crazy thoughts.
I’m prepared to gamble everything on this move.
I have no idea what’s come over me, but ever since the party, all I can think about is a future with her in it. It’s as if Cluanie, having lured me home, now plans to chain me here—with Jenna as the most unexpected and welcome jailer. When I arrived back, I thought I’d be here a few months, maybe a year. Now I have no desire to leave the place that has her in it.
As I hover in the aisle, there’s the added danger that her father, seeing what I’m up to, will launch himself from his seat, march down here and rip my arms off, snapping them like twigs right at the place where my unworthy shoulder is about to brush that of his precious daughter. Fortunately, he remains oblivious, eyes locked on the newspaper. One lift of his head and a glance in the driver’s ample rear-view mirror and it’s all over—but luck is on my side. He doesn’t notice the guys all holding their collective breaths. I’m holding mine too.
Jenna smiles up from her phone and I take that as permission to get my obvious body into the seat next to her before her father leaps up to object.
“Hi, I’m Geordie, you might remember me…” I slide into the seat, realising this is going to be torture. The seats are generous, but it’s near impossible for my broad body not to spill over into her space. My hip grazes the curve of her thigh. I swallow down the sudden pang of wanting more. She doesn’t shift away. Doesn’t angle herself like you would with a stranger.
“Hmm, I’m not sure,” she says, pressing a finger to her lips. A barely suppressed smile tugs at the corners, threatening to unleash the cute dimples she hides well behind an often serious expression. They are the reward for the patient and the fortunate. Today I’m both, as the little hollows twitch with mischief. “Something about you looks vaguely familiar.” She gives up on the deadpan face, laughter spilling out. “I know! It’s the village stalker from my teens.”
“Oh, come on,” I groan. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”
“Yes, you were. How many times did I catch you peering through bushes? Peeping round corners? Geordie, you were everywhere.Really, I thought you had a career in MI5, although you’d have needed to up your covert surveillance skills.”
I frantically try to recall just how annoying I was towards my older sister and her friend all those years ago. Not too bad, I hope. I’m desperate for this version of Jenna to like me. This me, not the painful kid brother hanging around, desperate for her and Rachel to notice him.
“To be fair,” she says, choking back a laugh. “Rachel and I were rather obnoxious teenagers. Strutting around Cluanie thinking we were queens of this little patch. Probably unfairly mean to everyone else, including you.”
My impulsiveness has landed me in a situation that I have no match plan for. I wasn’t expecting her to drag up the kid I was. Highlighting the age difference between us isn’t going to help nudge this rekindled relationship in the direction I’m hoping for.
“Nah, I’m sure I deserved it. Annoying was my specialty back then.”
“Perhaps,” she says, and we both know the truth of it. I was an irritating little snot, but she doesn’t appear to hold it against me. “Hey thanks for this work on the electrical stuff,” she continues. It’s good to return to the here and now. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have slept properly. Do what needs to be done. Whatever it costs, it’s worth it.”
“No charge. It’s the least I can do for you and your dad.”
“Geordie, you don’t have to,” she says, brown eyes softening. “We can afford it. We’re not short of money, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I want to,” I say, my voice low, responding to her nearness. “You’ve been through the wars. Call it my chance to offer a bit of TLC.”
“Thanks,” she says. I hear the sadness there. “It’s been a shit year. Mothers, eh? You never expect you’ll be the one who looking after them? But I’d give anything to still be doing it, if I could. She went so fast.”
The undisguised grief in her eyes makes me regret veering into this territory. But when she places a hand over mine, I see that she appreciates talking to someone who knew the woman she lost.
“And I’m so pleased your mum is going to be OK,” she says. “She’s lucky to have you all behind her. I saw Rache when she was here. She said the home support plan is going well.”
“You saw Rachel?” I echo stupidly.
Three weeks ago, Rachel finally dragged her neglectful arse up from London for a few days. Fixated on how easily she could have come home over the years, I didn’t exactly invite small talk. I had no idea where she went or who she saw in the brief times when I begrudgingly let her off the hook from Mum-minding duties.
Guilt prickles. I was hard on my sister, and that wasn’t really fair. With a jolt of unease, I realise my so-called good luck—being the one here when Mum and Dad needed me, has led me to take moral high ground. A position I don’t deserve. I need to smooth things out with Rachel when I next see her. Or sooner.
This bitterness towards my sister that’s sprung up in the midst of Mum’s illness doesn’t sit well. Resentment would be a completely natural response to the place she’s held in our family all these years. The golden girl. The one who followed the expected pathway—top marks at school, a law degree from King’s College in London, with honours, a stellar corporate career. I should envy my sister. She’s all the things my father wanted and everything I’m not.
In a way, though, her success has worked in my favour. Her exam marks, scholarship wins, glitzy job offers, and now high-profile court cases, all provide a handy diversion for my father’s judgmental eyes. Sure, she’s set an unattainable standard of what a MacDonald can achieve, but I was always going to fall short of the mark. I’ve never begrudged her the place on that pedestal.
I just wished that, being the nearer child, she had checked on Mum more often when I couldn’t, but I have no right to punish her for not doing so.
