Page 20 of An Ill Wind in Seabury
‘That was an accident… it’s not like she knew I was driving the van,’ said George with a laugh.
‘Ordidshe?!’ said Ewan, widening his eyes and wriggling his eyebrows again.
‘Don’t mind him,’ sighed Matt. ‘He’s been listening to far too many thriller audiobooks while he’s been working on this knitting commission!’
‘That explains a lot,’ chuckled George. ‘So, what did she want from you guys, anyway?’
‘I don’t think she really knew, if I’m honest,’ said Matt. ‘She kind of barged in, demanded to talk to us… and then kind of… ran out of steam.’
‘Weird,’ said George.
Ewan nodded. ‘If you ask me, your girl is about to have a bit of a meltdown.’
‘Please, for the love of all things holy, don’t start calling her “my girl”,’ said George. ‘For one thing, we don’t know for sure, and for another… I’m not sure the Seabury grapevine could handle the excitement!’
CHAPTER 8
GEORGE
It had been averylong day. George was exhausted by the time he turned the key to let himself into his little cottage on Sandpiper Lane. He couldn’t wait to clamber into the shower and wash away the sticky residue from the shock of his near-miss earlier.
First things first, though, he was going to send the Pepper brothers a quick message to thank them again for stopping him from falling apart at the seams.
Throwing his keys into the bowl that sat just inside the front door, George headed into the living room and flopped onto the squashy old sofa. Yanking his phone out of his pocket, he rapidly typed out a text, promising Matt and Ewan a drink in the Pebble Street whenever they fancied it.
‘And… relax!’ he muttered, tossing his phone aside and resting his head back against the cushions.
George closed his eyes and willed the last of the day’s tension to leave his muscles. He could feel the after-effects of his long morning run now. There was a certain tightness to his thighs, and a general heaviness that was threatening to weld him firmly to the sofa if he wasn’t careful.
Silence reigned, broken only by the ticking of the old clock on the mantlepiece and the sound of the sea breeze making the gutters outside creak.
He’d always loved how quiet his little house was. Usually, it offered peace and tranquillity… but after the weird day he’d just had, the hush felt a bit like it was pressing in on him. He closed his eyes, taking several long, slow breaths.
The image of baby Melody’s chubby cheeks and the sound of her infectious gurgling giggles promptly echoed inside his head. Suddenly, the thick heat was back in his throat… and this time he couldn’t blame it on shock. George’s eyes flew open, and he jumped out of the sofa as if it had bitten him.
What on earth was going on?!
He’d heard of women suddenly developing the overwhelming urge to have a baby… buthe’dnever really considered having kids. Mind you, that was probably because he’d never met anyone he wanted to share that kind of life with. Well… not since Claudia, anyway.
Claudia.
Was it hearing that name bandied around town that had triggered all this? He thought back to that morning. After everything that had happened, he couldn’t remember if he’d held the baby before or after hearing the name that was such a blast from the past.
Turning on his heel, George hurried upstairs, intent on the shower he so desperately needed. One thing was suddenly crystal clear—there was no way he was up for spending the evening on his own in this quiet house. He’d drive himself insane!
A plan popped into his head fully formed. He was going to grab a shower, change into something that wasn’t his postie uniform, and then head over to the hotel for a drink.
Worst-case scenario, he’d find some people to chat with so that he didn’t have to spend the entire evening alone with his thoughts.
His weird, newly-baby-obsessed thoughts.
Best case scenario? Maybe he’d finally get to see what had become of Claudia after all these years.
Actually, did that really qualify as the best-case scenario in this situation? After all, they’d been together a lifetime ago. Just because it had been a defining moment in his own life—the one and only time he’d ever been in love—it didn’t mean the same thing was true for her. Hell, she might not even remember him!
‘Even if she does, what do you expect from the poor woman?!’ he muttered, kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his shirt before tossing it onto the bed.
Even more importantly, did he really want to risk his precious memories getting tarnished? After all,thisClaudia had been terrorising the town all day, demanding entry to his friends’ home, insulting Kate, reducing Lionel to a gibbering wreck, and generally being mean. She didn’t sound even remotely like the girl he’d once known.
