Page 17 of The Island in Bramble Bay
Maggie started the engine having found the keys in the cubby under the seat. Good old Megan for thinking of that. She went slowly until she felt confident that she was in control, then wanting to get Charlie home as soon as she could, she let the throttle out and headed in the direction she had seen Charlie go many times before.
Before they approached Studland, Maggie needed to skirt around a small island but at that point, Charlie took the tiller and steered in the opposite direction, towards the far side of the little island. Maggie could see a clapboard boathouse come into view and Charlie was heading for it.
‘You live on this island?’
‘Uh-huh.’ He smiled sheepishly.
The door to the boathouse opened at the push of a button on a remote control which Charlie had asked Maggie to dig out of the cubby. Maggie secured the boat, next to another, much bigger boat, feeling that while she and Charlie might have finally admitted their feelings to one another, there was an awful lot she didn’t know about him.
He led her very slowly, seemingly finding it hard to catch his breath, up the shallow steps, through the garden, where eventually Maggie saw his house appear through the trees. It was white with huge bi-fold doors on the ground floor which led out to a deck with several levels. There were two storeys above with huge windows and Juliet balconies which would have a view of the open sea.
‘God, Charlie. Seriously, I can’t believe you live here.’ She knew by now what a private person he was, so it was no surprise to her that she hadn’t known, and that indeed no one seemed to know that Charlie lived on his own island.
‘I will explain, but not now. I just need to sleep.’ He let them into the house and headed straight for the stairs. ‘Make yourself at home,’ he said and left Maggie standing in the huge open-plan living area.
The whole place was painted white and had beautiful oak floors. There wasn’t much furniture, just a huge navy blue corner sofa which was crying out for some scatter cushions, and an oak dining table surrounded by eight chairs. Maggie smiled because she didn’t think for one minute that Charlie would ever entertain that many people at once but maybe she just didn’t know him that well. Clearly not, after all she had found out today that he must either have been born into a fortune, won the lottery or something else that meant he could live like thisandafford to do a job he loved. And apparently own an island.
She walked slowly around, trying to be quiet, almost feeling like an intruder. Although it was open-plan, there was a separate room off to one side which Maggie peeked into and discovered was an office with the most immense computer screen she’d ever seen. Back in the main room, there was a huge wood-burning stove in the fireplace and a large television hung on the chimney breast.
Opening a few cupboards in the kitchen, Maggie managed to find a mug and some teabags. Most of the cupboards were empty or just had a few items in them. There weren’t any of Charlie’s possessions, nothing personal at all. How had he ended up living in this amazing house with nothing in it?
Since they’d arrived on the island, barely half an hour earlier, Maggie had gone from feeling a huge connection to Charlie after they’d finally acknowledged their feelings for each other to now, feeling as if he was a total stranger. It didn’t matter to her where he lived but for the past few weeks she’d been imagining him living in a little cottage in Studland. This place opened up so many questions for her about where he had been before, what his life was before. That was all part of what made him, and she wanted to understand everything, know everything about him.
If he hadn’t had the accident, she still wouldn’t know any of this. Maggie had been surprised at how seeing him injured had affected her and made her realise the depth of her feelings. Now that the adrenalin of the day before had worn off, she still felt the same way, of course, but she needed some reassurance from Charlie that everything she thought he felt too was still there. After all, he’d probably been high on drugs or something and today hadn’t been that great with him struggling so much with the journey home.
She settled onto the sofa, turned the television on and sipped her tea. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep.
14
IT WAS DARK when Charlie woke up, thankfully in his own bed although he was fully dressed having been too tired to care about taking his clothes off earlier. He sat up and winced; not only did his arm hurt but he felt stiff and bruised all over from the fall. He headed downstairs in search of painkillers and found Maggie asleep on the couch and the television playing quietly to itself.
He perched on the sofa next to her. ‘Hey, Maggie, honey,’ he whispered, stroking her cheek gently with his hand.
‘Hmm,’ she said sleepily, opening her eyes after a few seconds. ‘Charlie, are you okay?’ She sat up and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. ‘What time is it?’
‘It’s ten-thirty. You could have had a bed too, you know.’
‘Well, I wasn’t planning to fall asleep, I’m looking after you.’
‘Oh, okay.’ He smiled and kissed her softly on the forehead.
‘Do you want a cup of tea or something?’ she asked, sitting up.
‘I could do with some of the pain meds we got from the hospital.’
‘Oh god, I should have woken you up, you haven’t had any all day.’
‘It’s fine, I’m fine. We should fix some dinner too. Have you eaten?’
‘No, I think I’ve been asleep almost as long as you.’
Charlie led the way to the kitchen, surprised by how much he loved the feeling of having Maggie in his house. She insisted that he sit down at the breakfast bar while she rummaged in the fridge and cupboards looking for something she could make while he sipped a glass of water and took some pills.
‘How does pasta sound?’
‘Perfect.’ He watched her every move as she pottered around his kitchen finding pans and spoons, as she chopped garlic and picked fresh, slightly neglected, basil from the pot on the windowsill. He felt contented, as if this was how it was meant to be. Not Maggie cooking for them, but Maggie being here in his house, doing normal coupley things, looking after him. He couldn’t imagine that Jessica would have done the same. She’d probably have hired someone to help instead.
‘So Charlie, as much as I would love to stay here with you,’ she said, as she began cooking the onions, ‘I should probably go back to Bramble Island in the morning if you’re okay to be by yourself by then. I was wondering if I could take the boat and then when you’re ready to come back to work, I can come and fetch you?’
