The Girl in the Yellow Vest (48 page)

BOOK: The Girl in the Yellow Vest
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I love you.

Always,

Will

By the time she was through reading his magical words, tears were rolling down her face.

Oh Will, how blind I’ve been.

Even as the thought entered her head, a new one replaced it. She jumped up, crossed the room to her suitcase and began throwing stuff in it.

I need to get back to Hay Point.

As soon as possible.

Somehow the triumph of sitting across from Charlotte at a fancy restaurant seemed less than sweet. After everything they’d been through together, over-priced food, elevator music and shallow chitchat just seemed out of place.

She looked gorgeous. There was no doubt about that. The black dress she was wearing accentuated every curve of her exquisite form. But he would have liked her just as well in an old T-shirt, preferably his, lounging on the couch in front of the telly. Talking seemed to do him more of a disservice than anything and so he spent most of the meal in silence, broken sparingly by comments about the wine or the food.

It was excruciating.

Finally, the waiter brought around the dessert menus and when she declined hers he began to grow desperate and tried the first topic he could think of. ‘I was wondering,’ he cleared his throat, ‘about Augustus.’

She looked up. ‘Your turkey.’

‘Well,’ he shrugged, ‘I think he’s just as much Zara’s turkey as he is mine. He certainly seems to enjoy her company more.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far.’ She smiled. ‘Augustus has a . . . lively respect for you.’

‘All the same,’ he nodded, ‘he’s nearly better now and with the project wrapping up in a few short months, I’m thinking about releasing him back into the wild. Unless Zara wants to keep him.’

Her hand, which had been reaching for her half-full wine glass, recoiled. ‘Yes, I suppose when the project finishes,’ she croaked, ‘you won’t be able to keep him any more.’

‘It will be strange not having him around,’ he mused. ‘I’ve actually grown rather fond of him.’

‘Really?’ she repeated stiffly.

‘Certainly enough to miss him if he wasn’t with me.’ He swirled the contents of his wine glass with a grimace. ‘I hope he won’t think I’ve abandoned him. He’s a very sensitive bird. Takes offence to just about anything.’

‘Is that so?’ Her voice had taken on a rather shrill quality. ‘It’s great to hear how profoundly sympathetic you are to your turkey’s needs.’

‘Er, thank you,’ he said slowly, not trusting the vibe he was suddenly getting from her. ‘Charlotte –’

‘If you don’t mind,’ she opened her purse and then put some money on the table, ‘I think I might call it a night now. I’m pretty drained after today’s ordeal.’ She stood up.

He did mind very much. They couldn’t halt the conversation at this point. Not when he was nearly one hundred per cent certain she was mad at him again.

‘Charlotte, wait.’ But she was already making a beeline for the door. Swearing under his breath, he threw a few more notes on the table and raced after her, only catching up when she was standing in front of the lifts.

‘What did I say wrong?’ he demanded.

‘You didn’t say anything wrong, Mark.’ Charlotte pressed her lips together. ‘You just basically didn’t say anything at all.’

‘About what?’

‘About us.’ She turned to look at him, drawing in a swift shaky breath. ‘If there is an us. Who knows, really? You can’t speak about your feelings, can you? Except in riddles.’

‘Riddles?’

‘No, no,’ she lifted a finger, ‘I’m being unfair. After all, you did just tell me how much you’re going to miss
your turkey
when the project’s over.’

An octopus began stretching its legs right in the middle of his stomach. ‘Charlotte,’ he licked his lips, ‘what do you want me to say?’

She looked at him in disbelief, coloured with some dignity. ‘I’m not going to spell it out for you. Besides, as you’ve so clearly implied, when the project is over, you’re going back to Perth. There’s no point in discussing something that’s already over anyway.’

The lift doors pinged and swung open and she stepped in, jabbing the button of their floor. He stumbled in after her, barely making it before the doors jammed on him. ‘Charlotte,’ he said urgently, ‘I want to discuss it.’

‘Really? Are you
really
sure?’ She turned to face him fully and then stepped right into his comfort zone, causing him to immediately jerk back. ‘There, you see,’ she said with some satisfaction. ‘There it is.’

‘There’s what?’ he demanded.

‘You recoiled from me.’

‘I did no such thing.’

She put up a hand to touch his face and he caught her wrist before her fingertips could graze his skin. A line of fire roared up his arm, as they stood there in checkmate, her mouth a delectable pout that made him shudder from head to toe. But she didn’t notice. Instead she said, ‘Do you really want to deny it now?’

The doors swung open and an elderly couple in the hall cleared their throats. He released her.

‘Good evening.’ She smiled at them before stepping out. He didn’t spare them a second glance as he struggled to pull in his scattered wits. The old man and woman entered the lift and pushed the ground-floor button. His stupor finally broke just in time for him to dash out of the lift before it closed. He saw Charlotte several metres ahead, strutting with purpose down the corridor. Thank goodness it was a long one. He ran to catch up. ‘Please let me explain.’

She shook her head. ‘You forget, Mark, that I studied psychology. I know what you’re going through. I realise you’re angry. I know you feel guilty. Denial is only the first step. But it’s okay. I love you.’ She stopped walking in front of their rooms and turned back to face him because he had halted a few steps behind. ‘Yes. You heard me correctly. I love you.’ She touched her heart. ‘More than I can bear and because of that I cannot and will not share you with a ghost. It would just eat me up inside.’

‘Charlotte, I don’t pull away from you because I feel guilty about Kathryn,’ he rasped. ‘To be honest, I haven’t thought about her since I got back from Perth. My head is too full of you.’

‘Mark –’

He held up his hand. ‘No listen. You’re the first person I think of when I wake up and thoughts of you stay with me all day. When we first met I was in a dark place and I didn’t want to come out. But you’re like the sun. You’re brighter and warmer than any black hole can contain. You make me want to live.’

Her eyes filled and she lifted a hand to dash away her tears. ‘Wow. When you don’t hold back you really don’t hold back.’

‘I’m sorry if I’ve seemed withdrawn and reluctant. I just . . .’ He swallowed hard. ‘I’m just trying to be careful.’

‘You’re afraid I’ll hurt you?’ she whispered.

‘No.’ He shut his eyes with a wry smile at her self-blame. ‘You see, Charlotte, there’s something you’ve got to understand about me.’ He sucked in a deep breath before opening his eyes again. ‘Everyone I’ve loved has died.’

‘Oh, Mark.’ She closed the distance between them, taking his face between both her hands. This time he didn’t flinch as they drank in each other’s faces, nose to nose.

‘Not this time, Mark,’ she said softly. ‘Not this time.’

He bent his head to take her lips and their first touch was like balm to his battered soul. He wrapped his arms around her, holding on for dear life, one overwhelming thought crystallising in his head.

‘I love you,’ he said against her mouth.

‘I love you too,’ she replied, fitting her curves more securely into the crevices of his body.

There was no holding back after that. The tide of emotion swept them both away to a place he had thought he’d never see again. Where the sun always shone brightly and life stretched out before you, like a smorgasbord of happiness waiting to be sampled.

The following morning, he and Charlotte rose late and ordered breakfast in his room. They sat eating it together on his balcony, in thick white hotel bathrobes. The view from this vantage point was spectacular. Tall silver buildings winked in the sunlight as the glassy Brisbane River wove gently through the foreground. It was picturesque, like the opening credits in a feel-good film that was now his life. He couldn’t stop his mouth from stretching across his face.

‘I love it when you smile,’ she remarked. ‘You don’t do it often enough.’

He turned from the river to direct the smile at her. ‘I’ll remember to do it more.’

‘But seriously,’ she said, ‘what are you going to do when the project finishes? I mean, I don’t want you to get bored at lazy Salonika Beach.’

‘Do you honestly think I’ll get bored?’ he murmured and she blushed a delightful shade of pink before averting her eyes and tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. She gazed out at the view now cupping her steaming coffee in both hands. ‘I just think, you know, that you should have a plan.’

‘Bossing me around again, Ms Templeton.’

‘I suppose you think I’m being pushy,’ she growled at him, though she didn’t really have an angry expression on her face. ‘I just want to make sure you’re happy, that’s all.’

‘I don’t think I could get much happier than I am right now.’

Her perfect brow wrinkled. ‘Seriously?’

He sighed. ‘There are many things I could do. I could get a job in Mackay or help you out with the resort for a few years.’

‘Well, I’m sure Zara will love having you around. She thinks you’re great.’

‘She thinks you’re great too. Remember that,’ he said softly.

‘Well, she’s certainly been opening up more to me lately. I really think she’s going to be okay.’ Charlotte breathed deeply. ‘Though I’m definitely not going to tell her anything about what went on yesterday for at least a year or so.’

‘Good idea.’

‘In the meantime, I’d like to focus on Mum. I’m sure there’ll only be a few more years left. She’s not getting any better.’

He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘Don’t think about that. Live for the present. That’s what I’m going to do from now on.’ He cleared his throat and then looked over at the pastry plate he had been avoiding since he sat down. ‘And I’m going to start by having one of these delicious almond croissants.’ He took one and bit into it. It was sweet, crunchy, buttery, magic. And yes, it made him think of Kathryn. But in a good way.

He realised that Charlotte was staring at him rather closely and he smiled at her again. ‘Kathryn used to make these.’

She nodded carefully.

‘She used to say they were the food of diplomats and would always make a batch when faced with a very ticklish problem. I remember once, she made a whole stack and gave them to our elderly neighbour Mr Watson with a note attached.’

‘What did the note say?’


Please close your blinds when you get dressed
.’

She laughed and he laughed too and it felt wonderfully easy. Charlotte picked up the coffee pot and tried to pour herself another coffee. ‘Oh damn, we’re out. Do you want another cup? ’Cause I’ll order some more.’

‘Sure.’ He nodded and she went back into the room to get on the phone.

He stood up and went to lean against the balcony railing, enjoying the gentle breeze on his face. He reached into his pocket and withdrew Kathryn’s list. Opening it, he read the final item.

Talk to someone about me – the good memories.

It was done and she had been right. He had needed her to find himself again. Even in death she had looked after him. Very carefully, he refolded the paper and then tore it into tiny little pieces that flew off his fingers with the barest breath of wind. He watched them swirl and then descend towards the river, until he could no longer see them.

Goodbye, Kathryn, and thanks.

He heard a clink and turned around to watch the most beautiful woman in the world putting down a pot of coffee on the table. She looked at him and her smile made his heart leap.

‘What are you thinking about so intensely?’ she asked.

‘New beginnings,’ he said and opened his arms so that she might walk straight into them. ‘What’s on
your
To Do list?’

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