Page 102 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
She gave a low moan of embarrassment. What on earth was she going to say to him now?
‘You’re wet.’ It was the first thing that came into her head. She cringed even more.
To her surprise, she felt Stephen’s chest rippling. He was laughing. She looked up at his dripping wet hair.
‘I’ve just got out of the shower.’ He grinned. ‘In fact…’ He looked down at his bare torso. ‘Maybe I should go and get dressed. I’m practically naked.’
Laura only caught the last of his sentence as he raised his head. ‘Naked?’ she asked.
‘Yes, me,’ said Stephen unnecessarily. ‘Well not quite, but…’
Laura stared at the pale smooth skin that had felt so nice under her cheek. She blushed.
‘I feel such a prat,’ she groaned. ‘You’re going to think I’m completely loopy; what with my performance yesterday and then coming round here this morning, like…like I just did.’
‘There is a somewhat marked difference in your behaviour,’ replied Stephen. ‘I’ll give you that.’ He cocked his head at her. ‘So I’m guessing that something important has happened to bring about this change.’ He watched her for a second or two. ‘I tell you what, why don’t I go and put some more clothes on, and if you like, you can make yourself a hot drink. I’ll show you where the kitchen is.’
Laura nodded, glad of the opportunity for a little more time to compose herself. She followed Stephen through a door and then another, smiling politely as he showed her where the kettle and mugs were.
‘And the tea and coffee are here,’ he motioned, before leaving her to it.
She watched as he padded across the wooden floor, his feet bare, the bottom of his jeans slightly too long, frayed and trailing on the ground. The denim clung to his legs. Laura raised a hand to her brow. I must be in shock, she thought, that’s the only explanation. But he had felt so good. She pressed the switch on the kettle. No, it wasn’t Stephen that had felt so good, she corrected herself. It was simply the fact that he was a man. Tall and solid, safe even, and it been such a long time since she had been held like that. Despite the circumstances, her body had responded to a basic human need that she had been denied for so long; the simple comfort that touch can bring, that was all.
By the time Stephen returned, she was feeling more herself. Two cups of coffee stood on the work surface and she handed him one. ‘No sugar, I think. Is that right?’
Stephen smiled. ‘Thank you.’ He’d combed his hair, and was now wearing a soft pale green shirt. ‘Shall we sit down?’
He led her through to an enormous conservatory filled with plants: orchids, ferns, and a huge Stephanotis whose glorious heady scent filled the air. She looked around her in amazement.
‘Are these yours?’ she blurted out.
Stephen looked amused. ‘Well, this is my house, so…’
‘I know, sorry. I just didn’t think you would have plants for some reason.’
‘Well, I do grow plants for a living,’ he replied. ‘Sort of, well, trees obviously. Although granted I do take their produce, mash it mercilessly into a pulp and make wild booze from it which I sell for inflated prices.’
Laura turned to gaze out of the window at the rows and rows of apple trees which could be seen in the distance.
‘You should adopt that for your marketing literature, you know. It’s quite catchy.’
Stephen crossed the room to stand in front of her. ‘And you should turn back around again so you can hear me laugh,’ he said.
‘Sorry,’ she said automatically. ‘It’s not really fair, is it?’ She went to sit down on one of the deep squishy sofas.
‘I need to apologise…again,’ she added the minute she sat down. ‘I can’t begin to imagine what you must think of me and worse, I can’t really explain my behaviour. Talk about hypocritical. But I’m sorry for shouting at you yesterday, for being utterly unreasonable, for coming across as a callous uncaring bitch, and for throwing you out of my house.’
‘You forgot the bit where you questioned my integrity.’
Laura sighed. ‘Yes, that too,’ she added sheepishly, but Stephen was smiling.
‘I tell you what,’ he said, joining her on the other end of the sofa. ‘I’m going to let you into a secret, which might not actually be all that secret, but over the years I’ve gained a reputation for being an arrogant womanising bastard.’ He took a sip of his coffee. ‘Feel free to contradict me anytime,’ he said. Laura said nothing. ‘See, I knew I was right. But the thing is, people usually have a reason for behaving the way they do; I know I did. It’s personal to them, but other folk can’t always see it for what it is; they only see the behaviour on the outside, never looking at what might have caused it.’
He checked to see she was still following him. ‘The worst thing is when you decide enough is enough and try to change; people are often unwilling to give you a second chance. I don’t blame them for that, but it makes it bloody difficult when you’re trying to convince them of your newly reformed character. I mean I might not live that long.’ He stared into his mug before looking up again. ‘Look, what I’m trying to say is that I think I understand a lot of what you must have been through in the past, and how that might make you behave at times. And if you can accept that I do understand, maybe you can also accept that I can draw a line under it and start again, without the need for apology or explanation.’
Laura’s heart was beating ever so slightly fast again. It seemed impossible that what Stephen was saying was true, and yet the way his eyes gazed into hers at times, she really did believe he could see into the little boxes she had stashed away in her mind. The ones that no one was allowed to open. She looked at his face now, concerned, but sincere, nothing more, and she felt her shoulders drop a couple of inches more.
‘Can I ask you a question?’ said Stephen, the tips of his fingers lightly tapping the mug he cradled in his lap.
