Authors: Alicia Hope
Reg Edwards, a lonely widower,
regularly had them
to tea
.
Verity fe
l
t
warm all over remembering the welcome
that radiated from
Reg’s
plac
e
,
which he
always
kept
a
s
clean and tidy
as the day
of
his
beloved
wife
’s
funeral
wake
.
On their
arrival,
he’
d pile wood on the fire
, from the
fastidiously cut
mountain of
timber behind his shed
, makin
g the old house warm
and
cosy. T
hey’
d
sit, absorbing
the heat
with relish,
while the rain lashed
against
the windows. She and David never wanted
to leave
, and wishe
d they could curl up on Reg’s
lounge and
sleep
out the winter
.
And he was more than happy for them to stay as long as they like
d
.
‘If y’understand me, if y’understand me
now, I enjoy your company, ’n
I can’t abide a cold, empty house,’ he used to say in his funny British accent.
Curious that she was
recalling
this now, Verity returned to contemplating the night sky
, while Royce
seemed caught up in
his own
thoughts
. She
was thinking
with affection that it wasn’t an empty house that welcomed her home now, but a dear tabby friend.
But
then
a
nother
memory
came to her mind
, of
the lounge roo
m in the house she and David
bought
once she was working
;
o
f
a much younger Three Bells Jack cowering in a corner
while David
lol
led on the lounge
,
beer bottle in his hand,
empties
and puddles of spilled beer
around his feet
,
slurring horrid accusations and
sneering at her as though she was the most detestable being on the planet
.
The warm feeling evaporated and Verity’s heart fell
. Even being greeted by a cold,
empty house was preferable to coming home to
that
.
She
l
ooked over at
Royce and
surprised them both by bursting out with,
‘Have you ever been married?’
He hesitated for a fraction of a second and then rapped out,‘No, I haven’t,
’
as though
the words
tasted bad
.
‘Well,
talking about wrong assumptions,
don’t presume that
being married
, or just
having someone waiting at home for you
,
is
a guarantee of happiness
.’
He
caught
the irony in her voice
and turned curious eyes on her
.
‘I take it you speak from experience?’
‘Well.
...’ Verity was already regretting having spoken so frankly.
‘
Yes
. A
nd an
unfor
tunate
one
.’ She p
aused, trying to control the
emotions surging inside her,
but
her lips kept moving and
the words
erupted
from
them
as though they’d been brewing just under the surface
.
‘When you marry someone, you become a sacrifice to that union. You lose yourself in the jumble of
your joint lives, and when it all
crumbles
around you
, you end up searchi
ng
the rubble
for what remains of yourself.
’ Her voice became a rasp,
‘
A
nd there’s often not much left that’s salvageable.’
Star
tled
by her own bitter words, she
quickly scrutinised
Royce
’s
moonlit
face
, expecting
to see
contempt there
.
But what she saw looked awfully like
compassion.
She blinked.
I must be seeing things,
she thought,
it is dark
,
after all.
Then h
e turned away, saying gruffly,
‘The same could be said about losing someone.’
Verity’s face puckered
. What was it Claire had said once, about Royce losing a girlfriend in an accident?
But this conversation was heading in a dangerous direction. Looking for safer ground, she forced
a more casua
l note into her voice and
offer
ed, ‘Well
,
I guess we’ve all got our fair share of regrets
.’
‘Yes....’
The
one, sad word trailed
off, and Royce lowered his eyes to stare at
the ground
again
.
Verity frowned in consternation.
‘I’m sorry if I’ve been
overly dramatic
. I guess I
had
more to
drink
at dinner
than I thought
.’
She gave a humourless laugh.
‘No apology n
eces
sary.’ Royce turned to
look over his shoulder at her again
. ‘So, you think marriage is a bad idea
?
’
She was desperate to let t
he subject drop.
‘Let’s just say that prior events in my life have left me with a
...
well
...
I guess you could
call it a
glass ceiling
on my heart
.’ Her forced laugh
sounded hollow
, and her attempt at a bright smile failed miserably
.
‘But
you know better than anyone, Verity, that
glass ceilings are m
e
ant
to be broken.’
He turned and
moved
nearer
her as he spoke. H
is voice
was
low
and gentle like a tender caress
carried to her on the
balmy
night air.
They were close enough for
the breeze to waft
his aftershave
her way
, and for him to breath
e
in her soft scent.
Sh
e hardened her h
eart and said, her words brittle
,
‘And so
are promises.
’
‘Not
all of them
.
Some
never get the chance
to be.
...
’
Royce
stood ver
y
still,
lost in his thoughts, recalling
the promise h
e’d intended
to
make to
Ella
but never
did
. A
nd now never
could
.
Verity rose from her chair and stood gazing at him
.
We all have painful secrets, even
tough guys like
you, Royce.
When his eyes
refocused,
he saw her
standing
straight-backed, chin raised, quietly regarding him
.
Her
loose hair and
pale nightgown float
ed
around
her in the breeze, and she
seem
ed to glow in the silvery moonlight. The image reminded him of a Greek goddess—o
ne who could
only be won, not conquered,
he surprised
himself
b
y
thinking
.
‘
It’s getting late, I’d better turn
in.
Big day tomorrow.’ She
gave a small nod and
headed towards the door
,
bu
t stopped to say
softly, ‘
Goodnight
,
Royce.’
‘
Yes, g
oodnight
,
Verity.’
His words
followed her
inside.
Verity
quietly closed the door
and
the shutters, and leaned
against
them
. Finally, she went over to the bed, pulled
down
the cover and slid between the crisp white sheets.
She
found herself
inexplicably
smiling as she lay there, going over
their conversation in her
mind.
T
he island was revealing some surprises
, and
before surrenderin
g to sleep, s
he
wondered
what others lay in store.
Royce watched
as
V
erity slip
ped
into
her unit
and close
d
the door
behind her
with a soft
click
. He stayed
outside
for a few minutes
longer, gazing thoughtfully
at
the
ocean and the
night sky. Finally, he stretched and
turned towards
the doorway to
his own unit.
When he stepped inside,
the hairs on
his neck stood upright.
H
e was not alone
.
S
omeone
was
in his unit
.
Whipping around, he saw a figure
sitting–sprawling–on the
couch
.
It was Kerry.
His eyes raked over her, taking in her provocative pose and dress.
A sheer black wrap, tied carelessly at her slim waist, did lit
tle to disguise the
off-the-shoulder lace top, G-string with suspender belt, and black silk stockings beneath it.
She half sat, half lay across the couch, tilting he
r head so
her
hair could
cascade
over her shoulders
in glossy waves.
On the glass-
topped coffee table
in front of her,
she’d placed
two champagne flutes and a bottle in an ice bucket.
Despite himself, Royce felt
stirrings at the seductive scene
, and when he took a calming breath, her sweet, musky perfume assaulted his senses.
He made an effort to control his more primitive instincts.
Raising a
cool
eyebrow, he said calmly, ‘Kerry. I wasn’t expecting you.’ Her low laugh seemed to reverberate
along
his spine, but he kept his voice neutral, adding, ‘Isn’t it customary to knock before entering another person’s room?’
She uncurled
herself slightly to lean
towards him,
revealing more of her tantalising cleavage, and
said
h
uskily, ‘But Royce, I did knock, y
ou just didn’t answer. I
tho
ught—or hoped?—
you might’
ve been in
the shower.’
She was leaving
him in
no doubt
of her intentions. He stared at her, willing himself to stay in control
, but
at the same time asking
why h
e should fight it.
He was no saint, he was a red-blooded man who enjoyed a casual fling every now and then, and Kerry was pursuing him of her own free will.