Authors: Amberly Woodruff
The
morning
brought brilliant sunshine and a more sober mood. Last night had
seemed almost magical, as if she’d dreamed the incident on the beach. There was
something about this island and Jed, some enchantment that was turning her
usually sensible mind fey and giddy. Or, maybe, she was
side-tracking
herself from the decisions she had to make back in her real life. Whatever the
reason, she was becoming fascinated by Jed, drawn to him, turned on by him.
Today she had to be firm with herself and spend some time in serious thought.
But she hadn’t factored in the effect that spending the day
in his presence would have on her. He was keen to show her the rest of the
island - she suspected he was glad of the company, whatever he might have said
previously about liking being on his own - and she didn’t see how she could
refuse without sounding churlish and ungrateful.
Consequently, mid morning saw them exploring the barrows in
the south. Here a wide beach swept up from the shoreline to merge into miles of
dunes, clothed in
marram
grass, which, in turn, led
onto grassy uplands. The tumuli themselves, six oval mounds, were covered by
wild flowers: clover, vetch, and tiny yellow blooms whose name she didn’t know
but whose sweet scent rose up as her feet crushed them in passing. There were
dozens of butterflies - Jed pointed out Common Blues, Fritillaries, and Orange
Tips, among many others - and the steady hum of bees provided a counterpoint to
the sound of the offshore wind and the distant voice of the waves. Despite the
brisk breeze, the sun was becoming hot. Something in Tamsin, some knot of tension,
anxiety or worry was beginning to unravel. The island really was paradise - a
place out of time and away from the common stream of everyday life.
Now, he took her hand and leapt up the side of the nearest
barrow, pulling her after him, then
proceeded
to walk
its length.
‘Round about here,’ he said, pacing slowly to a point two
thirds of the way along, ‘it always feels like going through some sort of
invisible gateway. Can you feel it? It’s odd.’
And she really could understand what he meant. Everything appeared
as it had been before, but it was as if they had entered another realm: one
that looked the same but that felt mystical and boundless. She was still aware
of the sough of the breeze and the melody of birdsong, but they were remote, as
if coming from another space. She was also acutely aware of Jed’s hand, which
was still wrapped around hers: its firmness and warmth and the fizz of
electricity that seemed to be sparking from his fingers to hers and back again.
Then, suddenly, his eyes were locking onto hers, drawing her in, rendering her
unable to move or even breathe for long seconds. She was aware of the lustre of
his skin, the pores where cheek flowed into upper lip, and the thick darkness
of his lashes,
Then the spell was broken, he dropped her hand, walked a
little distance away, and she was back in the world, sounds and sensations
reasserting themselves, filling her with sun and sky, wind and wave. Jed was
his usual casual, friendly self. She almost wondered if she’d imagined the
connection between them seconds ago, but she knew she hadn’t. Something happened
to them when they touched, something that appeared to bond them on a deep and
inexplicable level. Or, maybe it was the magic of the island finding a channel
through them: some supernatural force that wove its way into their blood at the
places the old people had made. She looked at Jed’s retreating back, his wide
shoulders and gleaming curls, and he seemed so familiar, way more so than he
should have done after only a couple of days. A rush of longing swept over her,
so that she had to restrain herself from going after him, touching him, sliding
her palms up those muscular arms, running her hands along his jawline and
caressing his cheek.
Jed turned towards her and his eyes sought hers again, but
she could see him shrug off the magnetism between them and force himself to be
more superficial.
‘Lunch?’ he asked, voice deliberately light - or so she
felt.
But when they were seated at the foot of the tumulus, backs
against the stones that formed its sealed entrance, she relaxed, letting the
sun caress her skin, filled with well being and contentment. She didn’t even
react when Jed’s hand brushed hers as he handed her the food. And he in his
turn opened up to her, chatting easily about the work he was doing here,
smiling and waving his hands in emphasis, tucking into one large sandwich after
another.
‘Any more headaches?’ he said at last, when they were
licking their fingers and bundling up the leftovers.
‘No, absolutely none, I feel totally fine.’ She dusted her
hands off and got to her feet. ‘In fact, I feel better than I’ve felt in
years.’
He nodded. ‘The island does that to you. I always feel
fighting fit within days of coming back here. I suppose it must be the lack of
pollution, but I feel ridiculously energised.’
Then they were heading back to the Land Rover, chucking the
remains of their lunch inside, driving off down the track that led to the
Hermitage.
But later that afternoon, when Jed had left her listening
to music on the laptop, telling her he had to do some quite dangerous cliff climbing
so wouldn’t take her with
him,
Tamsin had space to
think at last.
She took herself outside and settled against a small
boulder,
head tilted back, legs stretched out to absorb the
sun’s rays. She could hear the gulls from here, harsh cries faint but piercing
and, nearer, the comfortable clucking of the hens as they rooted for worms in
the dust; and beyond all that, the ever-present song of the ocean. Tranquillity
claimed her, her mind stilled and she felt a clarity that had been eluding her
for days.
It hit her that
she might not love Damien, that what was between them might simply be sexual
attraction
;
obsession, even. Something in her felt
oddly outraged that he was so controlling. Being here, on the island, had given
her a perspective she didn’t think she could have achieved otherwise - well,
certainly not with Damien breathing down her neck all the time, taking over her
life, not giving her space to work things out. She thought about how she had
all but lost contact with family and friends because of him. It had happened
subtly and gradually. She would decide to see someone and Damien would somehow
have another arrangement for them, or would be unwell and need her, or he would
make a remark about the other person that seemed, on the surface, perfectly
reasonable, but that would undermine her opinion of them. If she did manage to
make an arrangement, he would insist on being part of it and then would be just
slightly hostile, so that the event was uncomfortable. Bit by bit her
friends
saw less and less of her and then began to make
excuses not to see her at all. Family was a different matter, but she would
find herself torn between them and Damien, feeling it her duty to be loyal and
defend him when her parents or her sisters told her they didn’t feel right
about him.
And yet she knew he was painfully vulnerable, knew a
dysfunctional childhood had wounded him, leaving scars that went deep, even
though he denied them. Shouldn’t she see it through, weather the difficulties
and help him to grow past the pain? Wouldn’t her love and patience pay off in
the end, healing him, making him the whole, caring person she wanted to believe
he could be? If she refused to marry him and go to the States, wouldn’t she be
denying him all that? Wasn’t she selfish to even think of abandoning him?
She smiled ruefully to herself. So much for clarity: she
seemed to be going round in circles. But at least she was addressing the
problem
at
last.
Then, when she and Jed were finishing an evening meal of
pasta and pesto, Jed gave her a piercing look and asked her what was up. ‘Other
than cabin fever from being stuck here with me,’ he joked. And she found
herself spilling the whole dilemma to him. It didn’t feel wrong, even though,
or maybe because, she barely knew him.
When she’d talked herself out, he got up to put the kettle
on, coming back with steaming cups of coffee.
‘Right,’ he said, handing one to her and settling
himself
on the edge of the bed. ‘Do you want feedback, or
shall I shut up?’
‘Feedback, please.’
‘Ok. So here’s how I see it. When Fi and I split, I was
pretty gutted, in fact it’s left me wary of getting involved again, but I know
that’s not right and I hope I’ll get over it in time. But at no time did I
blackmail, coerce or threaten her. I might not have liked that she wanted her
freedom, but I didn’t see the point of holding on to someone who would rather
not be with me. What would be the point? I couldn’t
make
her go on wanting me, after all. If you love someone, let them
go may be a trite cliché, but it does have some basis in truth. Which begs the
question: do you and Damien really love each other or are you mutually obsessed
and fulfilling some function for each other that it suits you both to maintain?
Love isn’t about threats or possession. In fact, the more I think about it, the
more I’m convinced it’s about shared interests but giving the other person the
support they need to grow - and that means also not crowding them.’
Tamsin had been staring at her hands throughout his speech,
but she looked up to find he was staring at her, eyes intense yet enigmatic.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Jed held up a hand. ‘Sorry, I know I’m
bulldozing you a little here, and I will listen, I promise. But I just want to
say that if someone I loved was being manipulated the way Damien is trying to
manipulate you, I’d be very worried.’
‘Oh…’ She felt relieved and deflated all at the same time.
‘So what do I do now?’
Jed sighed,
then
smiled kindly at
her. ‘It looks as if the decision might have been taken out of your hands. After
all, you’re stuck here and have no way of contacting him, so he may have
assumed you’ve run out on him.’
‘Yeah, you’re right.’ She smiled at him, a weight lifting
from her. How simple it all was after all. At that moment she could feel only
relief at the possibility that there was no longer a decision to make, and that
Damien might be out of her life. ‘Gosh, this feels odd,’ she said. ‘I mean
telling you all this about my personal life when I hardly know you.’
‘That’s why it’s easier. I don’t have any stake in your
decision, so it’s easy for me to be objective. Anyway, being here on the island
together is a bit of a hothouse situation. We’re forced into each other’s
company, really, so we’re going to get to know each other fast.’
‘I suppose…yes, I hadn’t thought of that.’
And it was true - hadn’t she been thinking herself, only
this afternoon, how familiar he seemed, out of all proportion to the short time
she’d known him?
‘Well, I’m going to turn in,’ Jed announced, standing up
and collecting their mugs. ‘By the way, I’ve dug out a shirt for you to wear in
bed. It’s longer than that top you’ve been wearing, so you can change in the
bathroom and not worry about hiding from me.’
Tamsin didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that
he obviously had no interest in her body.
It
was
the middle of the night again and she was awake and alone. This time
she didn’t get up and follow Jed but lay there, drowsy and comfortable, till
she drifted into sleep again. She was vaguely aware of him coming back to bed
some time later, but was too tired to take much notice, sinking into slumber
almost immediately.
Jed made no mention of his nocturnal activities when they
woke later. He leapt out of bed clothed in boxers and T-shirt, cheerful and
filled with good will, fetching her coffee, then getting busy with a breakfast
of fried eggs and fried bread, which he brought in on plates awash with tinned
tomatoes.
Tamsin still felt a little odd about sharing a bed with a
stranger, but on another level it was becoming the norm. And it wasn’t as if
he’d made any sort of move on her. He’d been a perfect gentleman, keeping to
the other side of the wide couch, sleeping turned away from her, wrapped in his
own blanket so that there was no disturbance, no intimacy. She supposed it was
not much different to sharing a dorm in a youth hostel - which she’d done a lot
of when she was travelling in her gap year. And on her own part, even though
she was increasingly attracted to him, something about the air on the island,
or the lack of stress, or maybe even the remains of reaction to the dramatic
circumstances that had brought her here, meant that she slept deeply and
soundly, not even aware of her dreams.
This morning she offered to feed the animals and found
herself out in the mild air, scattering leftover crusts and handfuls of grain
to the chickens and dispensing some sort of meal to the goats: Jed had given
her a scoopful, extracted from a sack in the porch. Then he showed her how to
milk the goats, tying them up in turn, tugging at their teats till a steady
stream of milk pattered into the plastic bucket kept for the purpose.
‘You try,’ he said, getting her to kneel, guiding her hand
to the teat, showing her the movement and pressure that would get the milk
flowing. She was acutely aware of his hand on hers, his body pressing against
hers, side on side, as she fumbled, tugged and, at last, managed to extract a
few drop from the goat’s udder. The animal tried to kick, but Jed spoke sharply
and firmly and it settled again. Then, to her delight, she found her rhythm and
the milk began to spurt in a regular stream.
After that, they collected eggs together, searching around
the grass and under the little lean-to round the back of the Hermitage, where
the chickens could roost at night if they wished, sheltered from the elements.
When they’d finished those small tasks and had gone back
inside for coffee, Jed told her: ‘I have to do more
cliff
climbing this morning. You can have a swim if you want. The water in the cove
is perfectly safe, even when the tide’s going out; it’s not very deep, you
wouldn’t be out of your depth at any point, and the water’s already warm
because it’s so shallow. Then, this afternoon, we’ll take a look at the Viking
settlement.’
So mid morning found her naked, slipping through water that
was warm as a bath and smooth as silk, its colour
fawnish
-gold,
blending into turquoise further out. She had had to wade some considerable
distance from the shore for it to be deep enough to swim, even though the tide almost
was in. It was now clear why Jed had used a boat to go to the middle of the cove.
A strip of wet, gleaming sand bordering the beach was criss-crossed with the
runic footmarks of wading birds, whose long legs and curved beaks marked them out
from the gulls. And, as she’d splashed through the shallows, little fish had
swarmed away from her and tiny yellow crabs had scuttled to safety. The last
few inches of rock still to be submerged by the incoming waves were festooned
with bladderwrack and encrusted with whelks and limpets, whose serrated shells
glistened wetly.
Beyond the entrance to the cove, she could see the arms of
an encircling bay that sheltered this peaceful spot. She guessed her boat must
have been driven into the bay and onto the outer wall of the cove itself. A few
feet
either way, and
she would have been either driven
further out to sea or smashed on the rocks of the bay. That she should have
survived at all seemed a chance in a million and more than a little fated.
She swam for a while, slow, easy strokes, feeling the swell
and suck of the waves, which were so slight they seemed like nothing more than
ripples. Then she turned over to float on her back, breasts rising out of the
water, hair clouding round her shoulders, the sun dazzling her, the sky an
inverted bowl of bluest glass. At one point, she thought she saw a flash from
the top of the cliffs, like sun on a lens, but it was gone instantly and she guessed
she must have imagined it. She gave herself up to sun and sea, feeling a
current of bliss move through her being. She couldn’t remember ever feeling
this happy and relaxed.
Jed didn’t return till early afternoon, and then he was
keen to get going, asking if she’d eaten, grabbing a pile of biscuits for
himself. When she asked what the rush was, he merely said that he didn’t know
how long the good weather would last and wanted to show her all he could before
the helicopter took her away from the island.
‘You’re being incredibly kind,’ she said; but he brushed it
off, giving her an unfathomable look that curled her toes and set her senses
racing. She realised she was developing a king sized crush on him based, no
doubt, on nothing more than lust and close proximity. Anyway, he seemed
disinterested in her, and she didn’t need any more complications impinging on
her emotions.
This time, they drove south along the coast for a little
way then turned inland where a creek cut between low cliffs. Within roughly a
quarter of a mile of progress over a bumpy chalk track, they came upon a flat,
grassy area, guarded by hills and edged by woods. It was a riot of wild
flowers: red
campion
, star of Bethlehem, ox eye daisies,
vetch, the bright orange and yellow of tiny ladies slipper and some sort of
cerise coloured orchid, among very many others.
Smiling, Jed opened the door of the vehicle for her and
helped her down, then linked his hand with hers and led her over the grass to
where the creek flowed chattering over pebbles.
‘Oh, this is amazing,’ she exclaimed, looking around her.
She could see quite substantial remains:
stone walls
,
some so high she realised they must once have formed houses; tumbled masonry;
lower dividing walls. A ruined village stretched along the edge of the creek,
the dwellings closest to the water crowning a steep bank. The whole place felt
peaceful and welcoming, as though people had lived prosperous, contented lives
here.
When she voiced this to Jed, he said, ‘
They
did. There is excellent fishing on the coast and in the rivers here, and they
grew corn and other crops. We have the idea of the Vikings as brutal warriors
raiding defenceless people, but they were no more bloodthirsty than anyone else
of their era. They spent most of their time as peaceful farmers. Anyway, come
and see the great hall.’
He led her further onto the meadow and she saw, now, that a
grassy mound rose up above the level of the rest of the village. They walked
round it till they came to an arched entrance, the stones that edged it incised
with runes and carved with sinuous shapes, serpents or dragons, she wasn’t sure
which. Then she was following Jed inside. It was quite dark and gloomy, but
openings high in the walls shed enough light for her to see that the place was
built of large stone blocks. It was dank and very chilly. She shivered.
‘It’s a bit unwelcoming now, but when it was in use it
would have had fires and some sort of hangings to keep out the cold,’ he told
her. ‘But we’d better not linger. It’s stayed intact for hundreds of years, but
I never feel entirely secure in here. I wouldn’t want us to be buried under
tons of rubble if the roof fell in. Originally there would have been wooden
pillars and a veranda to shore it up a bit, but those have rotted away.’ He put
his hand on her elbow to guide her to the entrance.
Back by the
creek, they sat on the turf for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of the day
and the tranquillity of the place. Tamsin pulled up a blade of grass,
thoughtfully chewing the end.
‘Penny for them,’ Jed joked.
She faltered, gathering her thoughts. ‘I seem to have
almost forgotten Damien since I’ve been here, but I don’t know if that’s
because I’ve realised he isn’t right for me, or if it’s the enchantment of the
island crowding him out of my mind. It feels as if there is some sort of magic
here…seriously, it seems real.’
She looked up at him and then her breath caught in her
throat. He was staring at her in that penetrating way he had. He leaned forward
and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and she felt a jolt of emotion.
Before she knew what she was doing, she had bent towards him and captured his mouth
with her own. He tasted of salt sea air, his lips both soft and firm, his
tongue moving into her mouth, the hand that had touched her hair wandering down
her arm then up to her collar bone, tracing and exploring. The kiss deepened. Her
mind was reeling and her body was responding of its own accord, nipples
tightening as his fingers moved towards her breasts. She felt the beginning of
moistness between her legs.
Then he was leaping to his feet, not meeting her eye.
‘God, I’m sorry. What must you think of me? I’m behaving
like a sailor on shore leave. I know it’s been a while since Fi and I split,
but that’s no excuse…’
He began to walk away. She called out after him, trying to
explain that she’d instigated the kiss, not him. Then she put her hand beside her
to lever herself up and felt something hard and quite sharp digging into it.
She scrabbled at the soil, curious, thinking perhaps it was a sliver of flint
that she could take back with her as a keepsake. But what her questing fingers
pulled from the earth was a small, flat disk. She brushed the soil from it and
turned it on her palm, seeing the light strike a dull gleam.
‘Jed,’ she shouted. ‘Look!’
He came running back, galvanised by the urgency in her
voice, and took the object from her, carrying it to the edge of the creek,
kneeling on the bank and washing it carefully.
‘Well, well. Look at what you found.’ He held the disk up
between finger and thumb and it glistened gold, its surface shiny now. He
handed it back to her. It was about an inch across, the centre quartered into
an equal armed cross, bounded by two concentric circles with some sort of
flowing decoration round the edge. There was a hole punched towards the perimeter,
as though it had been hung from a thong.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘It’s Viking work. The design in the circle represented
both a solar cross, showing the solstices and equinoxes that divide the year,
but also is a symbol of the Norse god Odin.’
‘Then it ought to be in a museum,’
‘Keep it,’ he said. ‘There are enough treasures locked away
in cases. Leave it to a museum in your will, if it makes you feel better.’
‘I can’t keep it; it looks like it’s made of gold. It has
to be valuable.’
‘Tamsin,’ he said patiently, closing her fingers round the
object, ‘nobody will ever know unless you tell them. You’re right, the island
is special, and something in me thinks that if you found this thing, it was
meant for you. Keep it. Do you think its original owner would have wanted it
stuck in a glass case - or possibly just stored with other stuff in a museum’s
vaults? It’s a talisman, it would have been meant for protection or to bring
some quality into the owner’s life. Now it’s come to you. Keep it. I’ll find
you some cord to string it on.’
His words evoked an answering echo from within her and, at
that moment, she knew he was right: for some reason the amulet was meant to be
hers.
She was very thoughtful as they walked back to the Land
Rover. On the drive back, she went over and over the moment she’d kissed Jed:
the way the impulse had flared though her unbidden; the touch of his lips on
hers
;
the response of her body. Being that close to
him had felt like some sort of homecoming - but that was ridiculous, she barely
knew him and he had shown no interest in her that was more than casual friendliness,
up to that point. And he’d said himself that it had been a while since he’d
split with Fi. What healthy male wouldn’t have responded to a full-on kiss?
That had to be all it was, she told herself then turned her attention to
enjoying the beautiful scenery.