Authors: Fergus McNeill
She bit her lip and padded quietly out into the hallway. The bathroom was at the far end of the landing and she closed the door behind her. A quick glance in the cabinet above the sink saw the pattern continue. Razor, shaving foam and a single toothbrush. Everything was his. As she closed the cabinet door, her own reflection gazed back at her thoughtfully. He definitely lived alone, but who was the woman in the picture?
Downstairs, she found a tidy kitchen with a window that looked out on an unkempt garden, and made her way over to the sink. She took a tall glass from the draining board and filled it from the tap, swallowing the cold water quickly to counter the dehydration and lessen her headache. Then, returning the glass to its place, she filled the kettle and switched it on. The cupboards were largely bare of food, but there was half a jar of coffee and an unopened box of tea bags in one of them. She guessed coffee and made two cups before returning upstairs.
He was still asleep when she entered the bedroom – a profoundly tranquil expression on his face – but stirred as she set the cup down on his bedside table.
‘Morning,’ she said awkwardly.
He sat up quickly, blinking at her in surprise for a moment before his features relaxed in recognition and he sank back against the headboard and rubbed his eyes.
‘Good morning,’ he said, gazing up at her for a long moment. Then, remembering the cup, he reached out a bare arm to take it and shot her an uneasy smile. ‘Thanks for this.’
He leaned forward, inhaling the steam.
‘I wasn’t sure how you took it so I left it black,’ she said.
‘Black is fine,’ he nodded.
The silence grew louder as she stood there, suddenly self-conscious, holding the front of her blouse shut, aware of his nakedness under the duvet. She turned away for a moment, then moved slowly towards the small picture frame, looking at it once again, waiting.
‘That was my wife. Alice.’
Was?
Behind her, his voice suddenly seemed far away.
‘She died two years ago.’
Kim turned towards him, but he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were downcast, his face transformed into a stoic mask of sorrow.
‘Car crash,’ he said simply, then shrugged to himself.
‘Oh.’ She wasn’t sure what to say. Part of her was relieved, pleased he hadn’t lied; part of her was disappointed in herself for thinking that way. After a moment, she moved back towards the bed. Her hand stopped clasping the front of her blouse as she reached out to steady herself against the wall and kiss him on top of his bowed head.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly.
He glanced up, suddenly back in the present. Looking at her, he smiled, then sighed.
‘No.
I’m
sorry,’ he said after a moment. ‘About last night, I mean …’
He tailed off and looked away from her.
‘Don’t be,’ she told him. ‘I’m not.’
So strong, yet so vulnerable.
He smiled sadly, eyes downcast as he waited for the words to come.
‘I never meant …’ he dragged his gaze back to hers ‘… never meant for
this
to happen.’
‘I know.’
Perhaps that was why it felt different. Because he hadn’t tried to seduce her, hadn’t tried to do anything other than protect her.
‘I was worried for you. I just wanted to help.’
‘I know,’ she told him. ‘And you did.’
Easing herself down onto the duvet, she leaned across and extended her arms, drawing him close before settling down to rest her head on his chest, his heartbeat reassuring and steady in the quiet of the room.
‘What will you do?’ he asked after a while.
Kim closed her eyes for a moment, then shook her head slowly.
‘Honestly? I don’t know.’ She felt strangely calm, but things would be difficult now – the money she’d taken wouldn’t last for ever. ‘Keep looking for a new job, I suppose. I can’t ever go back home now.’
Lying quietly, she gazed at the photograph of Graham and Alice, wondering what she’d been like, if they’d been happy together.
‘You could stay here for a while,’ he said after a moment.
Kim drew back and stared at him.
‘I’m not your problem.’ She wasn’t helpless. She could take care of herself.
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’ His expression was pained, as though he’d forgotten how to speak to a woman. Perhaps he had. ‘I just meant for a day or two, if it helps. Where are you staying just now?’
She regarded him carefully for a moment, then relented.
‘At a B & B in Taunton.’
He nodded, choosing his words carefully.
‘I’m just saying, you can stay here until you get yourself sorted. If you want.’
He really seemed to mean it.
‘Oh, and I didn’t—’ He broke off, eyes flickering to hers then quickly away again. ‘There’s a spare room. If you want.’
He trailed off into an awkward silence.
So honest, nothing hidden.
Slowly, she relaxed back down to lay her head on his shoulder, smiling to herself.
‘We’ll see,’ she said.
Saturday-morning sunlight glimmered in the gap between the curtains as Harland blinked and opened his eyes. He yawned and went to roll over, pausing as he felt Kim’s arm draped across him. Turning his head, he gazed at the tangle of brunette hair on the pillow next to him, listened to the soft rhythm of her breathing.
Had he made a mistake? Inviting a stranger into his house, into his life? A confusion of different emotions rose in his mind and he closed his eyes against them for a moment, sinking back down into the mattress.
Beside him, she stirred a little, then settled again, the warmth of her body oddly soothing.
They’d made love again last night – the first time since the first time. He hadn’t wanted to push things with her, and though she’d shared his bed each night, he’d known it was because she didn’t want to be alone. But last night, as he lay there looking up at the ceiling, she’d climbed on top of him and silenced his questions with a kiss.
Now, he sat up slowly, gently lifting her arm and moving out from beneath it. Visible above the edge of the duvet, her white camisole top rose and fell steadily as she slept on. Getting out of bed, he stood up and stretched, then moved towards the door, walking carefully to avoid waking her. It would take a while to get used to having someone else here again, and suddenly the house felt strange, but not in a bad way.
In the bathroom, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and turned to lean over the sink, studying his reflection and catching the ghost of a smile. The aching loss was still there in his eyes, but for the first time it seemed diminished, pushed aside by … what?
Lust? No. She was lovely, and he wanted her, but it was more than that.
He made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. Pausing to yawn again, he checked there was water in the kettle and switched it on.
His instinct was to protect, to worry – instincts he normally had to suppress. So many women seemed to respond to indifference, to easy-going confidence – things that didn’t come naturally to him any more. But with her, there had been no time to pretend. He had been himself and it had been enough.
As he went to get the milk, his eyes settled on the old photo of Alice and himself, stuck on the fridge door.
He had been himself.
Perhaps that was why he felt no guilt.
They had a meagre breakfast at the small kitchen table – usual for him, but he found himself wondering if she normally ate more. There was still so much he didn’t know about her. He’d thought about going to the supermarket on his way home last night, but somehow the idea of buying lots of different food seemed dangerous, like tempting fate. If he started acting as though they were living together, it would break the spell and she would go. Day by day was fine for now.
She looked sleepy but she had dressed before coming down – still very much a house guest. When they had finished their coffee, he picked up the cups and took them over to the sink, wondering if she had plans for the day, hoping that she didn’t.
‘Doing anything later?’ He tried to sound casual about it.
Kim yawned.
‘Not really thought about it,’ she said.
Harland felt himself smiling as he rinsed out the cups, then turned around to face her.
‘Look, I know that wasn’t much of a breakfast …’ He shrugged as she lifted her head to gaze over at him. ‘Did you want to maybe go out and find somewhere to eat?’
And some neutral territory so she could relax with him.
‘OK,’ Kim said slowly. ‘I don’t really know Bristol that well.’
‘We could take a walk, if you want. There are lots of good places.’
‘I’d like that,’ she nodded, stifling a yawn. ‘I’m not really hungry just now, but a walk sounds good.’
It was bright and warm as they waited for a break in the traffic before crossing Coronation Road. Walking beneath the trees, Harland turned left and led them out across the old footbridge. They gazed down, through the rusty iron latticework with its peeling red and white paint, to the silted brown river that crawled below.
On the far side, they went right, following the road as it hugged the north bank of the river, sweeping round in a gentle, tree-lined arc. They spoke little at first, sensing how fragile things might be between them, aware of how little they knew each other.
Ahead of them stood an old corner pub at the end of a three-storey terrace. A covered Georgian balcony, supported by slender ironwork legs, wrapped around the curved face of the first floor, hinting at the beauty of its heyday.
‘I love those old verandas.’ Kim smiled as she gazed up at it. ‘There’s something very romantic about them.’
‘You see a few of them around the older parts of the city,’ Harland noted. ‘Come on, let’s cross over here.’
They left the main road and walked down a brick-paved lane that ran along the edge of one of the smaller harbour basins. Stepping in and out of the shade, beneath the trees that lined the quayside, they gazed out at the moored yachts and narrowboats, their reflections shimmering gently on the water.
‘This really is beautiful,’ Kim murmured. She looked serene in the sunlight. ‘You’re lucky to live next door to all this.’
Harland smiled to himself. He’d not thought of himself as ‘lucky’ for a long time. And yet …
‘So much prettier than Salisbury,’ she added.
‘Is that where you’re from?’ he asked. ‘Originally, I mean?’
It was a bad policeman’s habit, always questioning. He scolded himself silently, but she didn’t seem to mind.
‘Salisbury? No, I’m from Taunton.’ She shook her head slightly. ‘I don’t know which of them I like least.’
‘I’ve been to Taunton a couple of times.’ Harland shrugged. ‘It wasn’t that bad.’
‘You didn’t have to grow up there.’
‘Not a fun place, then?’
‘It’s not that …’ Kim hesitated, then sighed. ‘I was just glad to leave.’
She looked troubled now. Had he said the wrong thing? Touched a nerve?
They walked on in silence until they came to the end of the quay where the footpath turned to follow a narrow inlet channel. A footbridge led across to a sea of wooden tables outside the Ostrich pub – a few already occupied even though it was early – but they stayed on the cobblestones that led back to the main waterway.
‘Sorry,’ Kim said after a moment. ‘I didn’t mean to— I just have some bad associations with Taunton.’
‘OK.’ He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Should he ask? Or just shut up for a moment and let her tell him if she needed to?
She seemed to sense his uncertainty, glancing up at him, then turning away to look out across the water.
‘My father finally walked out on us when I was ten,’ she said softly. ‘After that I never really liked the place very much.’
‘Sorry to hear that.’
She managed a brief smile as they turned and walked back towards the centre of town.
‘What about you?’ she asked, her voice brightening a little as she changed the subject.
Harland looked down at the ground and smiled.
‘My father was in the police,’ he shrugged. ‘We lived in a few different places when I was growing up. A bit of time in London, a bit of time here.’
‘Any brothers or sisters?’
‘Only child,’ Harland told her. ‘But don’t worry, I’m remarkably well adjusted, considering.’
Kim nodded to herself.
‘There were times, growing up, when I wished I was an only child,’ she reflected.
They walked on towards the towering grey dock cranes that stood dark against the clear blue sky.
‘You’ve just got the one sister.’ Harland frowned. ‘Sarah, right?’
‘That’s right,’ Kim smiled up at him. ‘Nice to see you’ve been listening.’
Harland inclined his head to her modestly.
‘And she still lives in Taunton?’
‘Yes,’ Kim replied. ‘Technically, it’s my house. We lived together for a few years. It’s not a very big place, but when I moved out, she and her partner were able to spread out a bit.’
‘Where did you live after that?’ The moment he said it, he knew it was the wrong thing to ask.
Kim slowed, looking down at her feet before glancing up at him from behind her hair.
‘I moved in with Rob,’ she said, a strange tone creeping into her voice. Fear? Or something else?
They stood there for an uneasy moment, until he reached forward and took her hands in his.
‘It’ll be all right,’ he promised her. ‘We’ll get him. I’ll speak to the Met again, maybe start looking into it myself – quietly – until I find something that we can use, some way to take him down.’
She stared up at him, managing a brave little smile. So troubled, but so beautiful.
‘Can we talk about something else?’ she said softly.
Harland gazed into her eyes a little longer, then nodded.
‘I just want you to know that you’re safe now, OK?’
She didn’t speak – just looked up at him and squeezed his hand.
He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Somehow that thought lifted him, and he found that he was smiling.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let me show you around.’