Just Say Yes (26 page)

“You’re forgetting something, Josh. I never said I wanted to have a relationship with you. Now, I’m going to congratulate Nathan. His boat won, you know.”

“Yeah. I saw.”

The pleasure of wounding him back lasted about a nanosecond before remorse kicked in but she was way too proud to show it. “Fine. Now can I get back to my friends?”

Pushing past him, she hurried over to the quayside and was soon joining in with an enthusiastic rendition of “Trelawny” with the rest of the gig racers and their friends. She could see Josh and some girl by the wall. Was she a date? If so, it was a bit soon after Sara, even for Josh, but there was no denying the girl was stunning and very fit looking. Lucy sang even louder, determined to show him she didn’t care and to drown out the voices in her head telling her how much she did.

***

Three weeks later, it was clear that Tresco Creek wasn’t getting an Indian summer. September had started off damp and got wetter. Already, Lucy had noticed that the roads were quieter and the queues at the beach café much shorter. You could even find a parking space on the quayside in Porthstow. The café staff, the workers at the RV parks, and even the parking-lot attendants, all had an air of weariness. You could see they were beginning to long for the end of the season when they could take a break, pull down the shutters, and get out of Cornwall.

If she was honest, she was knackered herself. Not just because of the physical work but from the deception, the not-quite-telling the truth.

And there was worse to contend with. She’d seen Josh with the girl from the gig racing twice over the past few weeks, once at the Smugglers and once in a coffee shop in Porthstow. She’d found out from Cally that the girl’s name was Rowena and she was a brilliant young board sailor, probably one of the best in the country.

“I thought Josh quite liked you. I thought you and he might get together now that the Bunny Boiler’s gone,” said Cally as she and Lucy headed off to the cinema one evening. “But he must be shagging Rowena now.”

“We only work together,” Lucy had said. “And he’s not my type.”

“Maybe our Nathan is…” said Cally. “He really likes you, you know.”

So guilt was added to misery but Lucy still summoned up her brightest hostess voice for the new guests who had arrived at the cottages for an early autumn break. “Here you go. If there’s anything you need, please call this number and have a great vacation,” she said, handing over the keys for Seaspray Cottage to a young couple from Birmingham.

“Actually, it’s our honeymoon,” said the woman.

“So you won’t be seeing much of us,” added her husband.

“Happy honeymoon,” said Lucy and gave the kind of knowing wink that was required. As the man staggered up the garden path to the cottage, his bride giggling in his arms, Lucy collected her cleaning kit from where she had left it by the hedge and headed back home for a glass of wine and a well-earned bath. As she pushed open the garden gate with her backside, her arms full of brushes, bleach, and polish, a Land Rover pulled up outside.

“Still got your hands down a toilet, Lucy?”

Oh happy day. “Hello, Sara.”

“Josh not with you?” said Sara, smirking down from the open window of the car.

“I don’t know where he is.” Lucy’s heartbeat quickened as she realized where the conversation was heading. “I don’t see that much of him, to be honest.”

“You mean you aren’t all snuggled up in the farmhouse? You’re wasting time, aren’t you? I should have thought you’d have been over there, warming his bed for him.”

“My relationship with Josh is purely professional.”

Sara’s eyes glinted dangerously, malice written all over her face. “Come on, don’t be so naïve. You’re not telling me that cleaning is the only service you provide for him.”

Simmering inside, Lucy summoned up every ounce of dignity, which was difficult while carrying a bottle of bleach and a broom. “Sara, I’m sorry you’ve split up, but it’s nothing to do with me and if you have a problem with that, tough.”

“
I
don’t have a problem, and we haven’t ‘split up.’ For your information,
I
dumped Josh. I can do better than him,
much
better, and I’m so-oo glad I realized in time. I’m going to London, Lucy. I’ve been offered a job by the Yachting Association. You see, Josh was only ever a bit of an amusement. You didn’t think I’d ever actually marry a guy like him, did you? Frankly, you’re welcome to him.”

“He’s a nice guy, Sara. He doesn’t deserve to be spoken about like that.”

Sara’s eyes widened, then she let out a squeal of laughter. “
A
nice
guy?
Oh my God. Don’t tell me, you’re
in
love
with him!” she cried, clapping her hands in delight.

“I am not in love with him!”

Sara shook her head in contempt.

“You need help, Sara,” said Lucy softly, angry with herself for reacting.

“Oh, spare me the amateur psychology, please. It’s you that needs help. Look at what you’ve sunk to. Senior executive at a City bank—not that anyone I know has ever heard of you. Now, you’re just a glorified skivvy. A toilet cleaner.”

Lucy felt something snap inside her. “Better than a stuck-up cow!”

Sara raised her eyebrows. “Oh my, my. Now we’re seeing the real Lucy, but I can understand why you’re so upset. He’ll get tired of you, you know. A man like Josh wouldn’t know commitment if you hit him over the head with it. He’s a loner and the sooner you realize that, the better for you.” She revved the engine of the Land Rover. “If you think a loser like you can change him, you’re wrong.”

“You’re the only loser for driving Josh away,” said Lucy as Sara wound up the window and pulled away. She wished she could think of something cutting, something withering and witty like Fiona would have done, but she was way too angry and upset.

And worst of all, she had the sickest feeling that Sara was right about one thing. She was falling for Josh and he would never have a place for her in his life. He was self-contained and he didn’t
need
anyone. In frustration, she threw the scrubbing brush at the retreating Land Rover but it only hit the garden wall with a clatter. Smoke billowed from the exhaust as the car disappeared up the lane, the stink of diesel following Sara out of Tresco.

Leaving the scrubbing brush, Lucy stomped up the path, her heart banging fit to burst. She was angry with Josh for having led her on, upset at his coldness since that day at the beach, but Sara’s spiteful words about him had hurt her even more. He’d cared deeply for Sara, Lucy was certain of that, and she had just laughed at him when she couldn’t get her own way.

Lucy realized in that moment, that to be cared for by Josh would be something very special and being loved by him would be something else entirely.

A week after Sara had left Tresco, Lucy found herself hammering on the door of the farmhouse. A few frizzled leaves had already blown onto the path and the geraniums could really do with taking inside. It was evening and after the rain they’d had, the air held a distinct autumn chill, not helped by the message she’d come to deliver.

Josh, I’m leaving because I need to go home.

Josh, I’m going back to London to get a life.

Josh, I’m going home because I’ve fallen in love with you.

“I don’t think so,” she said under her breath as she waited for him to answer. She’d rehearsed the words a dozen times and each time, she’d given up trying to make them sound remotely convincing. Maybe she should send him a letter or email him via the new website she’d set up. Since Josh and Sara had split up, Lucy’s growing friendship with Josh had been crushed. He hardly spoke to her beyond the absolute essentials and she was sure he’d found excuses to avoid discussing the renovations to the cottages.

She rattled the letterbox. “Josh, if you’re in, can you open the door, please? I need to talk to you.”

There was still no answer yet Lucy knew he must be at home. The pickup truck was parked in the yard and she could hear Tally barking inside the kitchen.

“OK, if you won’t even speak to me so be it,” she said and started walking back to the gate.

“Lucy.”

When she turned round Josh was standing at the door, a towel slung low on his hips. “Sorry. I was in the shower.”

She bit her lip. Water droplets were running down his face and chest and his hair, not quite so short these days, was damp and glistening.

“Do you always have to be wet?”

He frowned. “What?”

She smiled sadly. “Nothing.”

“Are you going to come inside or are you going to keep me standing on the doorstep freezing my balls off?”

“I’d like to keep you standing on the doorstep, but on reflection—”

“Lucy, just come in please.”

As she entered the kitchen, Tally jumped out of her basket and padded over, tail wagging in delight.

“Help yourself to a beer or a coffee. I’ll just get dressed,” said Josh.

Lucy was glad because the sight of his naked torso was weakening her resolve to tell him she was leaving. After he’d gone, unable to sit still, she filled the kettle and put it on the stove. She got out two mugs, spooned in the coffee, and waited for the familiar whistle.

She could hear Josh moving about upstairs, the old boards creaking above her head. Knowing he couldn’t be much longer, she filled the mugs with hot water, splashed in some milk from a carton on the table, and sat down to wait for him. She wondered how he’d react to her news: he must be expecting it sooner or later. Would he be relieved? Disappointed? Would he try and disguise one emotion with another?

Tally laid her head on Lucy’s knee and stared into her eyes hopefully. Lucy’s bare knee was damp with drool but she didn’t mind. “You still miss Hengist, don’t you?” she said, stroking the dog’s head.

“More to the point, does Hengist miss Tally?” said Josh, reappearing in the doorway in the threadbare Levis he’d worn at the boat club party. A dark blue T-shirt hid his chest away from temptation.

Lucy’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. “Yes, Hengist misses Tally. Fiona phoned last night,” she said, realizing Josh had handed her the perfect cue to tell him she was leaving. Yet still she wasn’t quite ready to say the words out loud. “Apparently, he howls every time she puts him in the Land Rover and he goes wild if he sees a suitcase.”

“I think Tally expects to see him every time we go for a walk by the creek,” said Josh, leaning against the countertop. Lucy pressed her thighs together hard under the table, trying not to notice the way the worn denim tautened over his crotch.

“I’ve left your coffee on the countertop,” she said.

“Thanks.”

When he didn’t make any attempt to touch it, she said softly, “I didn’t really want one either.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“Josh…”

“You’re going home, aren’t you?”

It hurt her throat to say the words. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Because of him?”

“No, not because of him.” Then she stopped, thinking that if she could face telling Josh she was going away, she could face seeing Nick again and explaining, properly, why she couldn’t marry him. She knew exactly why now.

“I can’t lie to you, Josh. Not about this. It’s true that, partly, I’m going back because of him. You see, I feel that I’ve run away by coming down here. Taken the coward’s way out by staying here.” She couldn’t bring herself to say any more. She’d left it way too late to be telling him everything now. She’d felt like she’d wandered so far from the truth that it was impossible to find her way back.

Josh shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and looked away toward the casement window. It was what he did, she now realized, when he was cornered, possibly when he was
hurt
. And the fact he
was
hurt by her leaving made her heart skip in a stupidly hopeful way.

“I know you have to go,” he said. “It was inevitable, I suppose. You don’t belong here.”

“And you do? You’re from the city. You didn’t ask to come here; I bet you hated it at first.”

“I thought it was a Godforsaken dump full of hicks. I gave Marnie hell for at least a year. Now I feel the whole place has seeped into my blood, if that doesn’t sound like a load of psycho-bollocks.”

“Not bollocks, no,” she said, smiling. “I understand exactly how you feel and I’ve only been here a few months. Josh, it’s not that I feel I don’t belong here or that I don’t—absolutely—love Tresco Creek. It’s more that I’ve got unfinished business to sort out and not just in my personal life.”

“Will you go back to your old job?” he asked.

“No, probably not. I’ve been thinking, you see.”

“That sounds dangerous,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his cool-blue eyes.

“I know, but I like to live dangerously, as you know. I’ve been doing my research and I might be kidding myself, but I think I could build up a marketing and PR business specializing in travel and tourism clients—having hands-on experience, that is.”