Dark Heart Forever (18 page)

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Authors: Lee Monroe

BOOK: Dark Heart Forever
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‘They are.’ I remembered my conversation with Dad. ‘My dad’s a laid-back kind of person, whereas Mum’s quite highly-strung … emotional, I guess. They complement each other.’

Evan shifted and I lifted my head to support it with my elbow. ‘I’m sorry about your parents splitting up. It must have been hard on you.’

He put his hands behind his head. ‘It was a long time ago. I’m over it now.’ He sniffed. ‘You’re lucky, to have both of them though.’

This struck me as an odd thing to say for some reason, though obviously it was true.

‘When did they meet? Your mum and dad?’

I shut my eyes to think. ‘I think Mum was in her early twenties. Dad was a bit older.’ I hesitated. ‘She was getting over some other guy … she told us, that time at lunch? I can’t imagine my mum in love … you know, getting excited about going on dates … acting all girly and giggly.’ I smiled into the woods. ‘I wish I’d seen it.’

Evan’s face was serious, almost hard. ‘Broken hearts …’ he said darkly. ‘Now there’s a lesson for us all.’

My dad’s words came back to me. ‘You don’t think it’s worth the risk – falling in love?’

He pulled a face. ‘I didn’t say that … Just … maybe if we choose who we love more carefully we limit the possibility of getting hurt.’

So Evan was a cynic. I guessed it was understandable, but he was wrong. I sat up, feeling a little woozy from the alcohol. ‘That’s the point, isn’t it? You can never know for sure that someone will be there forever … You just have to trust that they will. If nobody trusted, then it would be terrible.’ I shut my mouth, realising I was telling this to myself as much as to Evan. myself as much as to Evan.

‘People get hurt …’ his voice sounded distant now. I watched for a smile, a sign that he was being light-hearted, but his face was impassive.

‘Oh.’ The penny dropped. ‘Somebody broke your heart? A girl?’

‘I didn’t say that. It’s just good sense to be on your guard.’ He closed his jaws and in an instant his face changed as he regarded me softly. ‘Though there are exceptions. To every rule.’ He pulled me towards him.

I put my arms around him, but I felt confused. Evan seemed to be on a downer tonight. Yet he was so intense with me at the same time. I couldn’t work him out. Just when I started to relax with him he’d do or say something that made me unsure again. It was like he was two different people.

I felt him kiss the top of my head, his hands moving down, slipping under the waistband of my jeans, and my uncomfortable thoughts were replaced by desire. I wasn’t ready to sleep with Evan. Or anyone. Not for a long time. But I wanted his hands on me, I felt myself moving so that his hand could stroke the skin at the bottom of my spine, expertly circling a spot with his thumb, making me wriggle at his touch. I lifted my head to look at him, and his hands took my face and then suddenly we were kissing, more urgently than ever. I tipped my head back and let his lips find my neck, arching my back slightly, feeling my whole body react.

‘I could make a big exception for you, Jane,’ Evan said breathlessly. He pushed up my T-shirt, and I realised I didn’t want to stop this now. I was tingling, expectant, and he nuzzled my head with his, gripping my waist with his strong hands.

‘Evan.’ I forced myself to pull away. ‘If we don’t stop now, then I don’t think—’

He put a finger to my lips, silencing me, then traced the outline of my mouth.

‘It feels right, though, doesn’t it?’ he whispered. ‘You and me.’

I nodded, it had felt more than right a few minutes before. It had felt perfect.

‘We can wait,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t have to be now, does it?’

He brushed a lock of my hair to the side of my face, his eyes, intense, studying me for a long time. Then finally he dropped his hand and his gaze.

‘It doesn’t have to be now, no. But I think we both want it to be.’ He spoke to the ground.

‘But we’ll want it again. There’ll be other times,’ I said softly.

‘Fine.’ His voice crackled, coldly. ‘There’s no hurry.’

Ignoring my hurt expression, he got to his feet, kicking at the dwindling fire.

‘Let’s go to sleep now. I’m tired.’

I was anything but tired. I was a little stunned and confused. Definitely not tired.

‘You go,’ I told him, staring at a weak flame. ‘I’ll just sit here a while. I’m not that sleepy.’

He nodded, tousling my hair, then I watched as he moved towards the tent, zipping it up behind him.

Alone, with only the sound of an owl nearby for company. I felt melancholy descend. Loneliness. Like before. And then tears coming. How could someone so lovely, so attentive, change in an instant to cold and distant?

Cruel.

I swallowed. I wanted to go home. It was all ruined.

Luca? Where are you?

Slowly I got to my feet, stretching. It was very dark, and I turned to look behind me, seeing Evan’s car, lurking like a metal beast. Quietly I walked towards it, looking back at the tent for a second, but it was still, no light on. Evan must be asleep already. I trod around to the back of the car and carefully pressed at the boot’s handle to open it. With a slight creak, it opened, and I eased it up as far as I dared, bending to get what I’d come for.

I slid the ribbon off and into my hands tumbled documents, a passport, a driving licence and a few newspaper clippings.

I opened the passport. Evan’s face – different, younger I suppose, stared up at me. And his driving licence. I squinted in the dark. Him again, unsmiling, blonder. I looked closely at the photo. It was difficult to tell, and his hair was longer, but his scar wasn’t there in this one. Must have been taken before his accident.

The newspaper clippings were cut from some local Australian paper. Reports on Evan going missing. A feature on his mother’s concern. Her pleas for witnesses. An interview with his dad. A photocopy of a hire car agreement from a year before.

The rest were what I assumed were keepsakes. A swimming certificate, a surfing badge.

Suddenly I felt like I was just prying. I assembled the papers together quickly when one clipping fluttered to the ground. I snatched it up and was just about to roll it in with the others when the headline on it caught my eye:
GIRL CLAIMS SHE SAW MISSING BOY ATTACKED
. A photo of an attractive, busty girl sat above a claim she had seen Evan Forrest being attacked the night he went missing, but had run out of fright.

I stopped reading. Too much information to take in. Evan certainly had some baggage. A story to tell.

I felt the leaves rustling behind me and all at once I was flustered. Grabbing everything, I hastily tied the ribbon. There was no further noise and I relaxed slightly, though my heart had resumed beating quicker than normal.

I threw the bundle back into the boot and gently closed the door on it, my hands resting on the cold metal as I waited for my breathing to regulate. I lay my head against the car then. Feeling almost numb with the events of the past half-hour or so. I felt my eyelids drooping as tiredness took hold of me, and I felt conciousness fading away.

The hand suddenly on my back frightened the life out of me. I shrieked and whirled round to face him.

‘What are you doing, honey?’ said Evan.

I turned, hoping that my trembling wasn’t visible.

‘I … my face was hot,’ I said weakly. ‘From the fire.’

Had he seen me looking? How had I not heard him come up behind me?

He nodded, looking at me without expression for a few seconds. But then, to my relief, he smiled.

‘You
are
tired,’ he said gently. ‘You were asleep standing up.’

‘Was I?’ I swallowed. That would explain why I hadn’t heard him. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘I heard a noise. And when I looked out of the tent you were nowhere to be seen. When I came out I saw your feet and the top of your head. You were slumped against the car, out of it.’ He rubbed my arms. ‘You need to get into the warm. Come on.’

He took my hand and led me back to the tent. I wasn’t sure I wanted to lie down next to him but I had no choice.

Inside the tent, Evan gently helped me take off my hoodie, socks and trainers. ‘You may as well leave your jeans and T-shirt on,’ he said, bashing at a cushion and placing it at one end of my sleeping bag, which he then unzipped.

‘I’m really sorry … about earlier,’ he whispered when I was safely wrapped up. ‘I guess I got a little carried away. You’re just so lovely … and sexy. I was frustrated … An idiot. Do you forgive me?’

I managed a smile at that. ‘It’s cool,’ I said, and closed my eyes.

‘Evan,’ I said after a few minutes, opening my eyes.

‘What?’ He cocked his head, his expression soft.

‘Did something happen to you … back in Australia?’

He frowned. ‘No … What made you ask that?’

‘Nothing …’ I shook my head dismissively. ‘I just wondered … I mean, it seems as though there’s something you’re not telling me?’

And there it was again, the narrowing of his eyes for a second, before he remembered to smile. ‘Go to sleep, Jane,’ he said, softly. ‘You’re exhausted.’

It was true. I could hardly keep my eyes open. I shrugged sleepily. ‘ ’Night, then,’ I murmured, feeling myself drifting off.

‘Sweet dreams. See you in the morning.’ I felt him pulling my sleeping bag up to cover me properly.

Within a minute I was waking up again, my mind whirring, but I kept my eyes shut and nestled my head into the pillow. Evan held my hand across his sleeping bag as he lay down too, and it helped, because the last thing I remember in the darkness as I peeked out through a slit in my eyelids was his expression.

Smiling and serene, watching me as I slept.

In the morning I opened my eyes to see him still watching me and smiling, as though he had been rooted in position all night. Even with his hair all messy and the slight shadows under his eyes, he was still the finest-looking specimen of a human being I had ever seen.

‘Morning,’ he said quietly. ‘You sleep OK?’

I rubbed my eyes. I dreaded to think of my bed-hair and I needed to clean my teeth.

Evan, supporting his head with his hand, resumed smiling at me. ‘You snore …’ he said, teasingly. ‘In a totally adorable way.’

‘Oh God.’ I closed my eyes. ‘Did I keep you awake?’

He pursed his lips. ‘Me and the entire population the other side of the mountain, probably,’ he said. ‘But it’s OK.’

I groaned and sat up, looking down at my rumpled T-shirt, my head clearing, remembering …

‘I’m going to get dressed,’ I said, gesturing at the tent opening. ‘So, would you mind … ?’

‘Right … Of course.’ Evan wriggled out of his sleeping bag, and I was relieved to see that he too had slept in his jeans. ‘I’ll get another fire going, make some breakfast.’

He disappeared out of the tent and I quickly got dressed in a pair of scruffy tracksuit bottoms and a faded black T-shirt, pushing my trusty trainers on to my feet. Hardly making an effort, but this morning I didn’t care.

Outside, there was brilliant sunshine; my heart couldn’t help lifting at the feel of heat on my face. I avoided looking at the car, sitting with Evan’s life tied up in a bundle inside it. That last newspaper clipping playing on my mind. I chewed on the inside of my mouth, wondering what to do. Maybe I should forget about it? It was none of my business. He must have his reasons for not telling me … But why was it in the back of his car? Why had he brought it all the way over from Australia?

We were going home today. Maybe I could ask him about it, sensitively, when we were safely out of the wood. For some reason I was uneasy about what reaction I’d get … And I didn’t like the idea of being so remote when it happened.

I watched Evan as he busied himself with the lit fire, breaking a couple of eggs into a pan, prodding at them with a spoon as they spat and sizzled. He turned then and seeing me watching, grinned contentedly.

‘Want some coffee?’ he said. ‘Or tea?’

I smiled, allowing myself to flash forward in time to Evan and me in our own kitchen, fixing breakfast. I stopped myself. How ridiculous. We’d only just met.

He did look cute, though, as he cooked the eggs, and filled the billy kettle with water from the huge bottle we’d brought with us. Practical. Taking care of me.

I settled myself down next to him, leaning my head against his arm.

‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘for doing this.’

‘I want to do it,’ he said, calmly, placing the kettle on a makeshift griddle. ‘I like looking after you.’

I felt negative thoughts drifting away. I was being a drama queen. I really needed to calm down and relax.

‘This is fun,’ I said, nudging him, feeling guilty somehow. I yawned then. ‘Wake me up when the eggs are ready.’

I drifted off for a doze, the sounds of Evan clinking about with the egg pan, lulling me to sleep.

‘Mum!’ I shouted, dumping my bag in the hall. ‘Dad! I’m back.’

The house was silent, though the clock in the kitchen ticked noisily. Sighing, I walked through and turned on the cold tap for a glass of water. Taking a long drink, I stared out at the yard. Dad’s shed was locked up. I wondered idly if Mum and he had got the table into the truck.

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