The Fire House on Honeysuckle Street Page 15

  She’d washed her bedding in the same fabric conditioner that Lucy used, she’d been doing it since they arrived. Towels, clothing, everything. She’d stopped using bleach in the kitchen as much, and switched to food that she knew Xander liked. She wanted him to feel at home, and what was a few brand changes between family? She would sell every stick of furniture she owned and go live in the forest if it meant being with them.

  ‘It does smell nice,’ she said. ‘Your mother told me about it. Do you want the big light on, or off?’ The bedside lamp was already on, and the landing light could be seen from the doorway. She could hear the TV on low, Dot’s soap on.

  ‘Off,’ he said, looking around at the light before hunkering back down in his duvet fort. ‘I’m not a baby, Auntie.’

  She chuckled, standing and ignoring the protest of her knees to kiss his little face. He kissed her back, and after a moment’s hesitation (and a wrestle against the covers) he reached out and hugged her tight. A little too tight, but Marlene loved every second.

  ‘Goodnight, my strong young man,’ she half whispered, moving to the doorway and heading downstairs.

  ‘He okay?’ Dot checked, one eye on the TV, where a resident love rat thrust his hands in his pockets, pushing his groin area into the eye line of a woman he was after. ‘Why do men do that, it’s like being a bloody peacock. I tell you, one day they’ll just wop them out and waggle them at us, manners are going to pot these days. Where’s the bloody romance?’

  Marlene sank down into her armchair, her whole body feeling like a hot ember being thrust into water. She could feel the sizzle of her muscles as they relaxed and cooled down.

  ‘I’ve no idea, Dot, I really haven’t. Xander’s fine, it’s a good job Lucy had given me some spare sleep medication for him. He’s nearly asleep, bless him.’

  Dot turned down the sound a little, then stood and walked over to the little mobile bar, a two-tier trolley on wheels that Marlene kept bottles of alcohol on with fancy glasses. She filled two glasses with sherry from a cut crystal decanter, before passing one to her friend and taking a sip herself.

  ‘Ahh, that’ll put hairs on your chest, lass.’ She looked back at the cart, and as an afterthought, grabbed the decanter and brought it over to put on the coffee table. Both ladies slid back the handles on the reclining armchairs, so their slippered feet were out in front of them. ‘What did Sam say?’

  Marlene shook her head, draining her glass and holding it out for another. When she spoke again, her voice sounded gruff, and she coughed once. ‘Not much. He sounded fine, but he never really gives anything away, does he? The man is so calm, I swear, he’d even chill Agatha out.’

  ‘But she was at his?’ Dot refilled her glass, and the two ladies clinked them together, taking another swig.

  ‘Yes, he said he’ll be there all night. I trust him, she’ll be fine.’

  Dot nodded once, agreeing. ‘So, the plan’s off then?’

  Marlene dead-eyed the TV, where the penis posturing male was onto another unsuspecting female.

  ‘No, we stick to the plan.’ The man on the television flashed his overly large and brilliant white smile, making him look shark-like in the camera lens. ‘In fact, I say we ramp things up.’

  ‘Operation Fireman’s Pole?’ Dot checked, a wry smile across her features.

  ‘Yep, Operation Fireman’s Pole is a go.’ They grinned at each other, feeling the adrenaline of their meddling kick in. ‘Text Grace, tell her to get knitting.’

  Dot snorted, reaching for her mobile. ‘Get knitting? That woman never bloody stops.’

  Sam turned in his sleep, and felt his neck crick. He’d fallen asleep in the chair, book discarded in his lap. He sat up with a jolt. The room was empty.

  ‘Lucy?’ he called. No answer. The cushion had been plumped back into place, the cup of tea gone. He walked into the kitchen, stretching out his stiff neck. The cups were both washed and left on the draining board. She’s gone home.

  Pushing down the wave of disappointment that surged through him, he headed up the stairs to the bathroom. As he opened the door, she was there, holding the handle on the other side.

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘Oops, sorry!’

  They both grinned at each other. Her hair was stuck up at one side, where she had been lying on the chair. She looked adorable. And a little flushed.

  ‘Sorry, I woke up and thought you’d gone. I was just going to use the bathroom and go to bed.’

  ‘I just tidied up a little. I should go next door.’

  Shit. He’d been so happy to see her.

  ‘Stay.’ He pushed the words out of his mouth before Mr Logic could grab them back. ‘You can sleep in with me, or in the spare room. No funny business, obviously. Well not obviously, but you know.’ He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, wondering why verbal diarrhoea always showed its ugly face when he needed to be articulate the most, around her. ‘I mean, I have a spare room. There’s no one next door, I’d sleep better if you stayed over here. Or you can share with me, I’ll put a pillow between us.’

  He was babbling, reaching for threads of something, anything that would keep her close.

  She looked up at him, nibbling at her lower lip as she watched him in the shadows of the landing.

  ‘If you have a spare toothbrush, I don’t mind getting in with you. The pillow thing sounds okay.’ A dark look crossed her face. ‘I don’t want to go to be honest. I’ll be out of here early in the morning before anyone notices.’

  This is wrong, Sam. A married woman in your bed, leaving in the early hours. What was she going to do, pole-vault over the back fence? His mother was going to go ballistic. He’d tell her too, like a little lemming having a stroll on a high cliff. The inevitable happened. That woman could smell blood in the damn water. He would open the blasted vein himself as soon as he heard her voice. Spill all his secrets. She had that effect, the woman was born with eyes in the back of her head.

  ‘I can do that, I have plenty.’ He thought of how that might sound, and held his hands out in surrender. ‘I mean, I keep spares for work, that’s all. Not for visitors. I don’t have visitors, besides you. Overnight ones I mean, not that this will be happening ag—’

  ‘Sam.’ She put a hand on his chest, cutting off the stream of words. He could hear his heart beating a rhythm against the palm of her hand. Babum. Babum babum babum. ‘Thank you.’

  He gave her a purple toothbrush from his washbag and passed her a pair of his tightest sweats and a fitted t-shirt.

  ‘I’ll just use the bathroom, I won’t be a minute.’ She nodded, and he quickly washed and brushed his teeth, used the toilet and looked quickly around him to see if his cleaning would pass muster to a woman. It was easy to turn to slobbish ways living alone, but he was pretty neat most of the time.

  Coming back out, he saw that she was sitting on his bed, clothing and brush in hand. They brushed past each other in the doorway, both ending up on the landing.

  ‘We need to stop meeting like this, in hallways, near stairs.’ She looked down at the things in her arms. ‘Purple is my favourite colour.’ She raised the toothbrush, showing him the colour of the handle.

  ‘I know, I remember you telling me.’ Her face dropped, and he cursed himself for sounding like a stalker. ‘I remember you talking about the lavender in the garden, how your mother loved it, the colours and the smell.’ He couldn’t stop talking now he’d started. He could see her now, running her hands along the lavender bushes as they jogged. She’d slowed down to touch them, a wistful look on her face. It was something that he’d never forget.

  ‘I did tell you that, didn’t I.’ She looked surprised at that, as though it wasn’t something she spoke of readily. ‘I’ll just get dressed.’

  She sidled past him into the bathroom, and he headed to his room, throwing off his clothes and putting on his loose cotton PJ bottoms. He normally just slept like this, ever ready for trouble in the middle of the night, but bare-chested didn’t seem quite righ
t. He reached into his drawer and slung on the first t-shirt he could find that had full short sleeves. Getting into bed, he waited for her to come out of the bathroom. He could feel his heart racing, and she wasn’t even in the room. The thought of her sleeping in his bed all night? It was driving him crazy. He batted the pillows behind him, trying to get comfy. He wished he’d brought his book upstairs, so at least he could pretend to be reading. He was pretty certain that he wouldn’t be able to comprehend a syllable at this moment in time. He settled for looking out of the window, at the night sky that could be seen in the crack in the curtains. There were so many stars here, lit up better by the lack of lighting outside.

  He heard the bathroom door open and close, and she was there, in the doorway, highlighted by the shadows. He turned to look at her, and his heart clenched. She was dressed in his clothes, the drawstring pulled tight to form a kind of waistband from the oversized joggers. She padded into the room, and without taking his eyes off her, he pulled back the covers at her side of the bed. She got into bed, and he covered her over gently, being careful not to touch her. He didn’t want to scare her, and he didn’t fully trust himself not to jump into her arms. He lay down on his back, smoothing the covers over and clasping his hands together in front of him.

  She moved the pillow a little, placing her hand underneath and turning towards him. He turned his head to look at her. Her dark hair was loose and curly, fanned out across the pillow. He could smell a faint scent of perfume, and soap. She smelled like heaven. Down, boy. Gentleman, remember?

  ‘Are you comfortable?’ he murmured, the low rumble of his voice cracking as he tried to keep his tone steady.

  ‘Yes,’ she half whispered. ‘I’m not sure I can sleep though. I’m so sorry you saw all that earlier.’

  Sam shushed her. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’ Something had bothered him since meeting the guy the first time, but he liked him even less now. ‘Has he hit you before?’

  Lucy shook her head, snuggling down under the covers. ‘No, that’s the first time he’s done anything like that really. He’s frustrated, I think. I didn’t make the best exit.’

  She nibbled at her lip again, and Sam found himself turning over in bed to face her better, being sure to keep his distance.

  ‘No excuse, Lucy, not for that.’

  ‘I know.’ She looked straight at him. Her eyes looked shiny in the dark, and he could see that she was tearing up. ‘He hit Xander. Just once, but it was enough. He didn’t mean to, but still. Things hadn’t been right for a while. I had to get away, and I have no real family, other than Marlene. I wanted to come here and think, get away, give us both a break. I knew he wouldn’t get it, so we left.’

  ‘And will you go back?’ It flew out of his mouth and he realised that ever since he met her, he had wanted to know that answer. He wanted them here, with him, with her family. The thought of her going back to that man burned him more than any fire ever could. He moved his hand closer, letting it rest in the space between them. She reached up and covered her hand in his.

  ‘I don’t want to, no. The truth is, I don’t really know what to do. I have a job to go back to, and the house … it’s a mess.’

  ‘You’ll figure it out,’ he whispered in his soft caramel-dipped voice. ‘I’ll help you.’

  He turned his wrist, and claimed her hand in his, stroking his thumb along her soft skin.

  ‘I’ll help you too, to find your family.’

  He smiled at her. ‘I have something to show you about that, in the morning.’

  She nodded, stifling a little yawn. ‘Okay. That’s fine.’

  ‘Goodnight, Lucy,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘You want me to put some pillows between us?’ He started to pull his hand away, but she held it tighter.

  ‘No, I trust you. This is good.’

  He moved a little closer, pulling the covers up a bit further around them both. ‘Yeah, it is.’

  They fell asleep not long after, hand in hand. They both slept like logs.

  Sam heard a metallic bang coming from downstairs, and dived out of bed, banging his shin on the radiator under the window.

  ‘Arrghh!’ he roared, cutting himself off and listening intently. Half a second later, he remembered. Last night. His house guest. The bed next to him was empty, the clothes she had been wearing neatly folded on the pillow. He quickly donned his uniform, brushed his teeth, checked himself out in the mirror and headed downstairs. He could smell bacon and eggs, and his stomach rumbled. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching her. She looked beautiful, all lit up with the morning sun streaming through the windows. Her hair was in a loose plait down her back, her clothes from yesterday on, with a little addition.

  ‘Morning.’

  She turned to him sheepishly. ‘Oh sorry, I dropped a pan. Did I wake you?’ Her smirk told him that she knew she had, and had heard his yelp of pain.

  ‘Just a bit,’ he laughed. ‘Nice socks.’

  She blushed, looking down at the black woolly socks. They were practically folded in half to fit over her tiny feet. He might never wash those again. Smooth, dude. Creepy smooth.

  ‘Yeah, sorry. My feet were freezing when I got out of bed. Did you sleep well?’

  He grinned, flicking the kettle on and getting two mugs out. ‘Like a drunk baby. Coffee?’

  She nodded, stirring a saucepan full of baked beans and keeping an eye on the frying pan.

  ‘I made breakfast for us. I figured you might need a good meal before work. I hope you don’t mind.’

  He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Stop apologising. Make yourself at home here. Thanks for breakfast, it smells great.’ He could have gone further, told her that the fact a woman was wearing his socks and making him breakfast was an alien and unprecedented event, but he stayed quiet as usual. He didn’t want to make things awkward. He felt like giving it a name, discussing it, would break the spell. He didn’t want that, he wanted more, so he was going to go with it. Risk his heart silently, without a fuss. The Sam way.

  They both worked together, stirring and pouring, serving and plating up, and before long they were sitting at the small dining room table, rack full of toast, enjoying their breakfast together. Lucy took a glug of coffee and sighed appreciatively.

  ‘Wow, that’s nice. You working late tonight?’

  He raised a brow. ‘Yeah, till ten. Why?’ He thought of the night before. ‘You worried about Iain?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I’m going to sort Iain. I just thought that we needed to crack on with finding your answers.’

  He stood and headed over to the kitchen drawer. He took out an envelope and placed it on the table in front of her. ‘That’s everything I have. I’m thinking we start there.’

  She went to open it, but he pulled it away.

  ‘Ah-ah, breakfast first. I’ll leave it with you, while I’m at work.’

  She flashed him a cheeky grin. ‘Tease.’

  ‘Always,’ he retorted, thinking of them lying together the night before. ‘I’m a patient guy.’

  She looked at him and smiled, her eyes twinkling at him. Wow.

  ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘I know.’

  Breakfast finished, they were both just heading out of the door when they heard the rumble of Marlene’s car behind them.

  ‘Shit! She’s early!’ Lucy was in a mad panic. Sam took her by the shoulders gently and ushered her out of the house by the front door.

  ‘Do you trust me?’ he asked. She bobbed her head up and down rapidly. ‘Yes, of course!’

  ‘Hang on then.’ He reached down and, before she knew it, she was in his arms. He laughed a little as she squeaked in surprise, and then lifted his long leg and, a second later, they were standing outside her front door. He placed her down gently, never taking his eyes from hers. She clung to him even when she felt her feet touch the ground. She was so taken aback, and unsteady. And, if she admitted it to herself, a little turned on. What was it about women who loved a man who could scoop
them up and carry them? What was the difference between feeling safe and intimidated? Why did she feel so different when she was around him? She had never felt like this before, not even in the early days of her and Iain courting.

  ‘Sorry, it was all I could think of.’

  ‘Now I know how the girl felt in King Kong.’ He pretended to be hurt by the comment, beating his chest with an apelike expression on his face, scratching his head with a huge hand. A hand she had held all night, and woken up clasping that very morning across the sheets. They both started laughing together as the car pulled up. Dot was in the passenger seat, staring at them intently.

  ‘You ready for this?’ she asked. Sam waggled his eyebrows. ‘Woman, I was born ready.’

  ‘Good morning!’ Marlene trilled, jumping out of the car, Xander already halfway through the gate.

  ‘Mum, Sam! I slept at Great Auntie Marlene’s, and she let me have cake that you don’t let me eat!’

  Lucy narrowed her eyes at Marlene, but her expression was happy. ‘Oh really, E numbers galore eh? Bet that was fun at bedtime!’

  Dot, following behind, waved her away. ‘Nah, a tot or two of sherry, we were all out for the count.’ She looked up at Sam, a broad smile plastered across her chops. ‘Bit of exercise this morning, eh?’

  The pair flushed. Had she seen them bolt the fence?

  ‘Good morning, ladies.’ Sam leaned down to Xander’s eyeline, holding out a closed fist. Xander bumped it with his own. ‘Morning, Xander, and good job looking after your auntie and her friend. You have fun?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He leaned forward and touched the embroidered fire station logo on Sam’s shirt. ‘When can we come to the fire house? You said we could.’

  Sam looked across at Lucy. ‘How about tomorrow? I’ll have to check with the chief, but I’m sure it will be fine. I mentioned it to him the other day. That okay?’

  ‘Yes!’ Xander screeched, spinning his arms and legs around in a victory dance on the front lawn. ‘I can’t wait! One sleep!’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Can I drive the truck?’

  ‘No you can’t!’ Lucy objected, a look of horror on her face at the thought.