Once Upon A Winter (26 page)

He could feel the pull of the box, the temptation. Gwendolyn had told him which drawer it was in. But it wasn’t time yet to use the key he always carried with him; however disappointed the boy might be.

‘There are some things I need to do beforehand, to prepare,’ said Silas.

‘But -’

‘Joshua’ - Silas spoke to him with a new firmness - ‘I’ll come here again, don’t fret. I only promised to visit Gwendolyn today, not open the box.’

‘You got me thinking we
would
open it. That was cheating.’ The boy knit his brow as he glared at Silas.

It was right that Joshua
should start to feel anger, if it was justified.

‘I’m sorry
.’ Silas bent his head in acknowledgement. ‘You’re right. Perhaps I did mislead you. But you’ll have to trust me on this. We
all
need to be patient.’ Regretfully, he rose from his chair.

The boy took his place, perching almost in solidarity beside the old lady, as if they had both been short-changed.

‘Leaving so soon?’ Gwendolyn’s pale, crepe-paper face saddened. ‘You aren’t staying for another cup of tea?’

‘As I said, I’ll come back,’ Silas leaned across, pressing his hand gently over hers. ‘You look well, Gwendolyn. I’m glad to see you here like this, with your family around you.’

‘I’ve looked better.’ The old woman pursed her lips sourly. ‘As you can testify . . .’

Silas smiled inwardly, remembering a girl with fat flaxen pigtails. ‘You look as lovely as always,’ he said. And left her beaming.

*

Nell
was surprised by a series of loud knocks on the front door. She jerked upright, dropping the oven gloves.

Daniel looked up from his coffee, hooking an enquiring eyebrow. ‘Expecting anyone else?’

‘No . . . And we don’t get many cold-callers out here. Understandably.’

Nell hurried out int
o the hall and unlocked the door. She blinked at the woman on the top step. But her initial lack of recognition quickly turned to consternation. The woman didn’t exactly look as if she was overjoyed at the sight of Nell, either.

‘Hello,’ she said cautiously. ‘It’s Nell - right?’

‘Lauren?’ Nell could see the girl within the woman now as easily as she could see through clear, clean glass. The same blue eyes; the perfectly cascading blonde hair; the slanted, Slavic cheekbones. 

‘O.M.G.,’ said the woman on the doorstep, albeit tensely, ‘you’ve changed a bit, haven’t you?’

‘Have I?’ Nell snapped, standing aside nevertheless to let the woman step out of the cold. ‘Are you, um, looking for Daniel? Because -’

‘No. No, actually, I’m not.’ She glanced searchingly beyond Nell, still looking as if she ought not to be there. Skittishly, she tossed back her hair. ‘I’m looking for Silas.’

Nell thought she had misheard. Staring at Lauren Guthrie, she couldn’t think of anything to say except, ‘Pardon?’

At that moment, though, Daniel appeared in the kitchen doorway, frowning. This seemed to throw Lauren even more.

‘What are you doing up here - again?’ he asked.

His whole manner was taut, gauged Nell. She closed the front door, to keep out the chill, and sidled across the hall towards him.

‘Er, Silas asked me to pick him up from here . . .’

‘And you’re very punctual,’ came a voice from the top of the stairs. ‘I’m sorry, Lauren.’ Silas appeared, almost ju
mping the bottom step. He hurried over to her and took her hand between his own, then leaned in to gently peck her cheek. This seemed to ignite a fresh confidence in her. Her smile widened.

‘I thought I was a bit early, actually,’ she admitted. ‘You look very smart. Like you’ve been having tea with royalty.’

‘I have in a way,’ said Silas, but without any trace of facetiousness.

Nell felt Daniel tense even more. As for herself, she was so confused it was hard to know what she was feeling.

‘We’re going out for a drink,’ Lauren explained, tucking her hand around Silas’s elbow. ‘We met last week, when I got a bit lost and drove down the wrong track. I ended up at that little house in the woods. You know, Nell, you’ll need to get that sorted, make it a lot clearer which route leads where. And that track needs fixing up, too. Anyone who hasn’t got a Land Rover or any sort of 4x4 might end up stuck in the mud one day.’

Lauren was gazing around the hall now, evaluating everything, like an estate agent. ‘This is more like it - isn’t it, Danny?’ She turned to her ex-husband. ‘Compared to the Annexe? You’ve been slumming it in there. This is far more your style.’

‘Lauren!’ It was practically a growl, spoken through clenched teeth.

‘Perhaps it’s time we made a move,’ said Silas, g
uiding Lauren towards the door.

He hadn’t attempted to acknowledge Daniel, or vice versa.

‘I guess.’ Lauren didn’t look in such a hurry to leave now, though. ‘Lovely seeing you again, Nell. Funny, isn’t it? How things work out?’ She gave an admiring, sidelong glance at Silas.

Nell took another step closer to Daniel, until her arm was pressed up against his. She felt dizzy, and a little sick, as if she’d caught the flu in the space of a couple of minutes.

‘Goodbye, Nell.’ Silas stared back at her as Lauren opened the front door. ‘I’ll come up to the house another day,’ he continued, ‘if that’s all right with you? To see the children again, and Gwendolyn.’

‘Er . . .’ Nell shrugged. ‘I suppose. And we’ve got some things to discuss, about the divorce. Call me first, though. Don’t just come unannounced,’ she added. A last ditch attempt to regai
n some control. Not
the fact he might turn up and find her knocking about in a faded old hoody or saggy jeans, her hair uncombed.

Daniel and Nell stayed frozen in the hall for a few moments after the front door closed behind Silas and Lauren.

‘I’m . . . a bit . . . gob-smacked,’ admitted Daniel at last.

‘You and me both.’ Nell sighed, and twitchily hooked her hair behind her ears.

‘Are you . . . OK about this?’ He turned slowly to face her. ‘I mean, I guess we don’t have any cause for complaint, considering you and I are . . .’ He shrugged.

‘We’re what?’ said Nell. ‘I thought we weren’t anything except very good friends at the moment . . . ?’

Daniel sighed. ‘Well, maybe that’s all
they’re
going to be.’ He jerked his head towards the door as the sound of a car engine rumbled through the air, and then rapidly faded into silence again.

‘You reckon?’ Nell felt as if her lungs were tightening up. She wondered if this was what an asthma attack was
like. She drifted into the kitchen and leant against the island, spreading out her hand on it for support. The sapphire of her former engagement ring twinkled up at Nell, taunting her.

‘They’ve only just met,’ rationalised Daniel, following her into the kitchen and prudently closing the door after him, so that the conversation remained private. ‘How can they be anything more?’

‘Because it’s easier to be casual lovers than good friends.’ Nell turned to confront him. ‘And they’re both grown-ups, without any real strings attached.’

‘You think they might . . .’ Daniel’s eyes were stormy swirls of grey now.

‘Does it matter to you if they do?’ Nell studied him closely. ‘Daniel - are you jealous?’

‘
Jealous?
’ He was practically outraged by the suggestion, which made Nell realise that she had hit the nail on the head with deadly accuracy.

‘It’s OK if you are,’ she went on. ‘It’s perfectly natural, even if you don’t have the same feelings for her that you used to. I probably feel a bit jealous myself. I’m not sure that ever stops. I think, deep down, Lauren might also feel jealous about you and me, judging by her reaction.’

‘You think?’ Daniel frowned. ‘What about Silas? Do you reckon
he’s
jealous, too?’

Nell shook her head, accepting the fact with a painful
wrench. ‘No . . . He was never the type. That isn’t the way he feels about me. I don’t think he ever did.’

‘Hey . . .’ Daniel lifted
her chin. ‘He’s crazy if he thinks Lauren’s half the woman you are.’

‘She’s double the woman, when it comes to looks.’

‘
Why
must you always put yourself down?’ Daniel insinuated himself against her, until the edge of the worktop was digging into her back and a flush of heat thumped through her. ‘You’re beautiful, Nell . . .’ And he lowered his head to press his mouth against hers.

She kissed him back, with the same defiant hunger, wrapping her arms around him and allowing his hands to roam slowly through her hair and then lingeringly down to her thighs, crumpling the material of the short dress she was wearing over thick opaque tights.

She could feel desire growing between them, unmistakeable and urgent. Nell’s own yearning, though, seemed to be feeding off the knowledge that she was capable of inciting lust in a man. Stirring his blood in ways she had never been able to stir Silas’s. Love-making had always been so meticulous and uninspiring within her marriage. A conjugal duty. Her own husband had never seemed to understand how his mounting excitement - if only he could be bothered to show it - might stir a reciprocal response within her. In spite of her deep physical attraction to him, and the way he made her feel safe and cherished, they had seemed like two people going through the motions in bed. Nothing more. And Nell had been too naïve and shy to explain how she felt, because perhaps sex was over-hyped, she had persuaded herself, and countless couples were in the same position.

Now, though, as Silas threaded his way too far into her thoughts,
compounded with the fact that the children could burst in at any moment, Nell pulled back breathlessly. ‘Daniel,’ she gasped, as his lips trailed down her neck. ‘Daniel, we can’t . . .’

She felt him slump in her arms, and groan. ‘I know,’ he muttered against her shoulder. ‘This is all wrong.’

Nell disentangled herself, smoothing down her hair and dress, calming her breathing.

Daniel leaned over the worktop.
‘We’re both angry, Nell.’ He lifted his eyes, slightly glazed and still turbulent with emotion. ‘We’re angry with Lauren and Silas, for making us feel jealous or rejected, or whatever negative stuff is going through our heads right now.’

‘So we’re trying to get back at them?’

‘Well, if they can do it, why can’t we? I guess that’s our reasoning.’

Nell picked up a single oven glove and fanned herself with it. ‘You’ve got remarkable self-control, Daniel.’

‘For a bloke?’ His lips jerked into a sardonic smile. ‘I hate to say it, Nell, if we’d been alone in the house right now, it would have been a different story.’ He shook his head. ‘Whatever the consequences. We’d have had to live with them.’

A shiver rippled through her, a residue of everything she had been feeling moments earlier - yet also, she realised, of relief.

Then the very thing happened that Nell had feared when she’d been locked in Daniel’s embrace. Freya erupted into the kitchen in an animated blur.

‘Mum! Who was that woman Dad drove off with? I saw them out of the bedroom window, but I was trying on some stuff for Rose’s birthday party, so I couldn’t come down sooner. Is dinner ready yet?’ She bent over to peer through the oven door.

‘Oh, damn! The macaroni cheese . . .’ Nell pushed her daughter aside and with a full set of oven gloves on, manoeuvred the Pyrex dish out of the hot oven and on to a cast iron trivet. It was much browner on top than it ought to be.

‘Just the way I like it,’ said Daniel.

‘Burnt?’ said Freya doubtfully.

‘That woman was Lauren Guthrie,’ announced Nell. A lump of indignation lodged in her chest. As if it was Lauren’s fault alone that the macaroni cheese was over-cooked.

‘Ohhh.’ Freya glanced at Daniel through brown, fluttery lashes. ‘Your . . .’ She tailed off, and turned back to Nell. ‘But why is my dad with her? Didn’t you ever tell him what she was like with you at school, Mum? You told me and Josh enough times, when you lectured us about bullying.’

Nell looked towards Daniel, who was pretending to study his feet. ‘I did tell him, but your dad might not remember what I said, Freya. It was a long time ago. And I don’t know why they’re together, except that adults like to go out for a drink sometimes, so that’s probably all there is to it.’

‘Right.’ Freya’s eyes widened. ‘She could easily be a model, Mum.’

‘She’s attractive, yes,’ Nell had to concede out loud.

‘They looked like some sort of movie star couple,’ Freya continued, with her usual relentlessness.

Daniel lurched into life just then, as if suddenly realising the table needed laying. He yanked open the cutlery drawer. ‘We’ve all got the right to move on with our lives, Freya,’ he said, with the earnestness
he reserved for his pupils, Nell noted. He counted out knives and forks. ‘Now, why don’t you go and tell your brother it’s time for dinner, please?’

‘O-
K.
’ Freya flounced out, far less grudgingly than if Nell had asked.