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Authors: Elizabeth Forbes

Tags: #Novel, #Fiction, #Relationships, #Romance

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BOOK: Nearest Thing to Crazy
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Dan laughed almost cruelly, as if it was the funniest little pun he had heard all week. I didn’t think it was that funny. Dan knew I entered my pickles into the local competitions. Sometimes they even won, thanks in no small way to Dan’s mother’s own recipes.

‘I ought to get going, leave you two in peace,’ she said. ‘I left my car at the Gales’ last night. We had quite a boozy supper – it was really good fun. I couldn’t believe how late it was when the party finally broke up. Thank God someone gave me a lift home. I think if I keep walking they’re not too much further, are they?’

‘About another fifteen minutes or so.’

‘‘I was hoping I’d make it there before the heavens opened. Looks pretty threatening, doesn’t it?’ Ellie said, staring out of the window at a smattering of clouds which showed the tiniest tinge of grey.

‘Dan, why don’t you run Ellie up there?’ I said. ‘You wanted to talk to Nick about the quiz, didn’t you?’

‘God, no. No, really, there’s absolutely no need. Coco and I will enjoy the walk . . .’

‘Nonsense. Dan really does need to talk to Nick, so it’s no trouble. Dan?’

‘No trouble at all.’ He picked up his car keys.

‘Well, if you really are sure, that’s terribly kind.’

Ellie patted her leg, summoning the dog to follow her. ‘I feel really lucky to have you both so close to me. I know I’m going to love living here.’

‘Me too.’ I smiled. I don’t know why I’d suggested Dan give her a lift. Perhaps I was still imagining that we were friends, kindred spirits, but after they’d gone I was left with only the silence of the house for company once more, the ticking of the clock the only disturbance in the room. Tick-tick-tick it went on, relentlessly . . . and for once I didn’t find its steady march soothing; I wanted to stop it, to make time stand still. I couldn’t tell why, I only knew that I did.

CHAPTER

3

Dan didn’t come back for almost an hour, and in the meantime I’d pulled out the straggling remains of the spent broad beans and made a start on digging over the bed, enjoying the repetitive movement of the spade slipping into the soil aided by my boot. The few clouds that Ellie had found so threatening had magically disappeared, and the warmth of the sun on my back and the soporific sound of the insects buzzing around me was soothing. I assumed he’d probably stopped for drinks with the Gales. I rarely saw Jules, Nick’s wife, these days as she was always so busy with the lettings business, but I imagined she would be forming part of Ellie’s new gang, especially as she was her new tenant. I wondered who else would have been at supper last night. Amelia perhaps, and Sally?

When I heard Dan’s car I didn’t look up, but carried on with my labours. I didn’t want him to think I’d been fretting over how long he’d been.

‘Here you are. I couldn’t find you. Might have guessed . . . Jules and Nick send their love, and I’ve invited Ellie for lunch tomorrow.’

‘Really? That’s good.’ I shoved the spade back in the soil. I turned over the earth and pulled the spade out once more before slicing it back in. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t think I realized I hadn’t answered him.

‘You okay?’

‘Yes, fine . . . it’s just . . . oh I don’t know . . .’

‘What?’

‘Nothing. No . . . nothing.’

‘No, what?’

‘I just think there’s something a bit troubled about Ellie.’

‘What do you mean, troubled?’

‘I probably shouldn’t say anything. Probably better just left.’

‘Well you’ve started now, so you might as well tell me.’

This was what I meant about his ‘female’ side. There was nothing
Dan liked better than a good girlie gossip.

‘I didn’t tell you, but when we went on that garden outing the other day, she was really quite off . . . embarrassingly so, to be honest.
I called her after that and left messages – actually because I felt a bit worried about her – and I even popped round with some flowers. I think she was in, but she didn’t come to the door. I thought it was a bit odd that she never called to say thank you. And then – I was going to tell you, but I didn’t have a chance – I saw Amelia at the market, and she told me all the girls had gone out to the cinema. And I know she said she’d left messages, but I don’t believe she did. I wrote my number down for her, inside a book, so she couldn’t have got it wrong. And, anyway, she would have got my messages, so my number would have come up on her phone, wouldn’t it? I feel as though I must have done something to offend her and I don’t know what it is.’

‘I’m sure you haven’t, babe. I think you’re just reading too much into it. Anyway, like I said, you probably didn’t charge your phone. Maybe there’s a message on there, you just haven’t heard it.’

‘There isn’t, Dan. And my phone was charged. Otherwise I
couldn’t have texted her, could I?’

‘I think you’re being over-sensitive. I’m sure there’s some perfectly simple explanation. So stop fretting.’

‘You’re right. I probably am just being silly. And maybe she didn’t find the gardening tour the most exciting event in her life. You know what it’s like when something’s a passion, you expect others to share it . . . like you with the weeding and digging,’ I said, and laughed.

‘And like you with Man U.’

‘So lunch tomorrow is a good thing. Give us chance to get it sorted out.’

‘That’s my girl.’ He stepped around the edge of the vegetable bed to avoid getting soil on his shoes. ‘Come here,’ he said, pulling me towards him. I relaxed against him, enjoying the sense of security Dan’s arms seemed to offer.

‘Love you,’ I said.

‘And I love you too, silly sausage.’

Of course I knew she was mad about the cinema trip. I mean, she would have to have been a fool to believe that I had asked her. I can see from her point of view it would have seemed unkind of me. But I honestly was doing it in her best interests. I wanted to have a chance to ask the others about her, her state of mind, just in case. Amelia was quite guarded, but Sally was sweet, really willing to chat because she felt that if I was concerned, then she should be concerned, too. It was easy to get her on to the subject. I just had to drop in a few hints about her feeling suicidal, her depression, worries about Dan, the usual stuff, and Sally was all ears. We went outside for a cigarette. Amazing how many non-smokers are more than happy to blag a sneaky one from me. It’s a great ice breaker. I learn so much from my pavement ciggie chats. Anyway, Sally confirmed that she’d had this bad post-natal depression. It was all a long time before they’d moved to the village, but people knew about it. ‘Oh God,’Sally said, all concerned. ‘I thought that was all in the past. Poor thing. I thought she sounded a bit preoccupied at Amelia’s lunch the other day. And I don’t think that Laura’s been the easiest child. She’s very much a daddy’s girl, if I’m honest.’

‘Well I’m just a bit worried,’ was all I had to say, and in Sally’s eyes I was already best friend and confidante.

‘I love Dan but . . . sometimes he’s so involved in his work I don’t think he realizes what’s going on at home. And because he hasn’t been around he does the usual over-indulgent parent bit to make up for it. Laura’s got him round her little finger, and he can be a bit . . . insensitive. I don’t think he means to be. I mean I’m not saying they’re not happy or anything. But, oh, you know . . .’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I do know.’

I did the right thing not asking her to come out with us because it really did give me chance to bond with the others.

The following morning I woke up feeling cold, even though we were barely past mid-summer. The curtains sighed under a draught from the open window, and I could hear a duck quacking frantically on the pond. The wind carried the sound of the drumming of wings against the water’s surface. And closer to the house I could hear the swallows chirruping away manically to each other. These were the sounds that I loved to wake up to, the morning percussion that reminded me that
I lived a perfect life, with everything I had ever wished for.

Dan was sleeping soundly. He was facing me in the bed and his breath waxed and waned rhythmically. I wanted to slide into his warmth but at the same time I didn’t want to disturb him as he looked so peaceful. I lay on my back, blinking at the ceiling for several moments, tracing the cracks in the plaster and thinking about the day to come. I was secretly annoyed with Dan for inviting Ellie but it wasn’t fair to have a go at him for just being his usual kind self. I had really wanted it to be just the two of us because I was enjoying the rediscovered closeness we had brought back with us like a memento from our holiday. I suppose I knew I was being stupid over Ellie. But here, lying in bed, we had our own little world, of sorts, and everything that I ever wanted was in Dan’s circle of warmth.

I couldn’t resist him or the possibility of a reassuring cuddle, and so I turned around and shuffled against him, easing myself into the folds of his body, slipping my buttocks into the bend of his lap, so that my knees buckled against his. He shifted slightly and then placed his arm around my waist. His hand dropped onto my stomach and he pulled my body closer, nuzzling his nose against my hair. I sighed, savouring the delicious feel of his bare chest against my back, flesh to naked flesh. I felt his growing erection against my buttock and so I responded by squeezing my body more tightly against him.

‘Hmm,’ he sighed, and his breath tickled the back of my neck, making my skin come alive, reminding me of the self I had so lately rediscovered. I let my toes drift down to his foot. He inhaled quickly and jerked his foot away. I repeated the movement, aware that he was now fully awake.
‘Hmm,’ he said again. ‘What time is it?’ sleepily.

‘Nine. Time to wake up.’ I wriggled myself even more tightly into him and felt an answering twitch of hardness. Then slowly I turned around to face him and his eyes opened and we stared, expressionlessly, at each other. I broke the moment by placing a small kiss on the end of his nose and he smiled and closed his eyes once more, sighing deeply. I had always loved watching Dan sleep. I loved seeing him with his eyes closed. I loved the black curve that his eyelashes painted, and the smoothness of his skin inches from my face. It was when, to me, he looked at his most vulnerable and approachable. But as I watched him, his eyes remained closed, and his breathing assumed the same gentle rhythm of relaxation, so much so that I feared he had gone back to sleep. I kissed his nose again and put my arm out and stroked his naked shoulder, willing him to wake up, to pay me attention. ‘Morning . . .’ I don’t know if he could sense the edge of insistence in my voice.

‘Hmm,’ he repeated, shivering. ‘Your hands are cold. You’re very awake.’

I traced my fingers over his arm, lightly, letting them slip over his skin until I felt the goosebumps ripple beneath my fingertips. His hand tightened over my hip, clasping it proprietorially, and pushed it away, slipping over my thigh and into my own warmth.

I pushed my hip towards him, invitingly. He opened his eyes and grinned at me and then he leaned over me. ‘What a lovely way to wake up . . .’

I breathed in the familiar scent of my husband, secure and masculine, intensified by the night, infused into the warm cotton sheets, so that I was engulfed by the essence of Dan and I wanted to melt into him. ‘Then what are you waiting for?’ I whispered.

He raised himself and placed his body over mine, sliding between my legs. I squeezed my buttocks and raised my hips off the bed encouragingly and then saw his expression change; clouded confusion, closely followed by tired resignation and a long sigh. I could feel him soften against my thigh. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Just tired, I guess.’

‘Don’t worry,’ I smiled, and said with forced enthusiasm, ‘Never mind. There’s always later.’

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘later,’ and rolled off me. ‘Sorry, babe.’ He ruffled my hair and then lay back on his pillow and looked at his watch.
‘Time to get up.’

‘Yep.’ I bit my lip, suddenly feeling that I could easily burst into tears. I slid out of bed and reached for my robe on the back of the door and pulled it around me, trying to generate some warmth. ‘I’ll make us some tea. Why don’t you run a bath, and I’ll bring it to you?’

BOOK: Nearest Thing to Crazy
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