Page 85 of Winter at Wishington Bay
‘I’ll see you later,’ he said, stealing one last kiss before turning and jogging down the stairs and out the front door onto the street, pulling the door closed behind him.
* * *
The look on Eloise’s face told me she’d already heard the news about Nate and me.
‘About bloody time too,’ was her greeting as she gave me a hug and helped me tie my apron before turning me back to face her. ‘So?’
‘So, what?’ I asked.
She gave me a look and I grinned. I couldn’t help it.
‘That,’ she said, pointing at my face, ‘just answered my question.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I said, aware that there was a still a big smile plastered over my face and had been for the majority of the weekend.
Eloise looked at me, laughed and moved to the door to greet our first customers.
* * *
‘You know he’s married.’ Corinne had been late starting her shift. The look on Ned’s face suggested she was trying his good nature but, for now, she was here and apparently eager to burst any bubble I may have been occupying.
‘I’m sorry?’ I said, turning briefly.
‘Nate. You know he’s married, right? I saw some pictures of his wife online. She’s absolutely stunning.’ Her glance flitted over me and the rest of her opinion, although unvoiced, was clear. I knew I shouldn’t reply. Should let her words just wash over me, but the dig that I was seeing a married man had lodged in like a barb. I’d been on the receiving end of that situation on plenty of occasions so the accusation that I was now doing the same thing rankled.
‘He’s separated, Corinne. And getting a divorce. His ex-wife is already with someone else.’ I turned to face her. ‘And funny that whole situation didn’t seem to bother you when you were desperate for his attention.’
‘I didn’t know he was married.’
I shook my head. ‘Corinne. The whole village knew Nate’s situation before the poor man even got here and you were no exception. Table three is calling you.’ I nodded in the direction of her customers, turned on my heel and walked back to serve one of my own, trying not to let her comments permeate. I’d managed it before and I would do so again. Nate was single. We’d sat at his breakfast bar discussing our respective divorce proceedings so I knew it was certainly happening, not to mention the small matter of his ex already living with another man. Corinne was just trying to put the knife in because, for once, she hadn’t got what she wanted.
I did my best to put it out of my mind, and continued with my shift. The place was busy and Carrie and Ned had now put the Christmas tree up, adding to the festive atmosphere and lending the restaurant a cosy feel. During a brief lull, I snapped a couple of pictures and uploaded one to my Instagram account. I avoided detailing the location and only part of the tree could be seen, but Carrie had done such a wonderful job decorating it, it seemed a shame not to share it in some way. Slipping the phone back in my pocket, I moved back and tidied the booking area before heading over to one of my tables to see if they could be tempted by some of Ned’s famous puddings.
* * *
The wind coming in off the sea whipped my hair across my face, and the invisible droplets of lifted surf stung my skin as I waited for Nate outside the restaurant. Eloise and Bob had offered to wait with me but I’d sent them home to the warm. I knew Nate wouldn’t be long and had probably just got caught up with his book.
Twenty minutes later I was beginning to feel less sure as tiny flakes of snow began to flutter down, catching on the bottle green of my wool coat. They lasted a moment, bright and white against the background before soaking in and disappearing. Pulling my phone from my bag, I checked the screen. No missed calls or unread messages. As I’d begun to lose feeling in my feet, I rang Nate. If he’d just got caught up and was now walking along the beach, I didn’t want to start heading to Holly’s place through the village and risk us missing each other. The number connected and rang. It carried on ringing until finally it rolled over to voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message. The surf was roaring and if he was walking that way, it wouldn’t surprise me if he hadn’t heard the phone ring. I decided to head down towards his place and chose the beach walk. Bryan would have a good chance for a run around if Nate came that way, so it made sense he would choose that route.
Bracing myself against the wind and the now heavier falling snow, I walked fast towards the Art Deco place at the end of the beach, both enjoying and also being battered by the wild weather. If he’d forgotten about meeting me altogether, Nate better at least have the kettle on.
I rang the bell. Nothing. I rang again and this time, after a few moments, saw movement. The door opened and Nate stood there staring at me. The action was mutual. This was a completely different man from the one who’d left my flat earlier that day, and I hadn’t seen him look this stressed since our first inauspicious meeting over the toilet brush.
‘Hi,’ I said when it became clear he wasn’t going to speak first.
He ran a hand back through the dark, rumpled hair. ‘Oh… er, hi.’ Behind him, Bryan scooted round the corner, sliding like a car on ice, before regaining control and powering towards me. I bent and picked him up, letting his warmth thaw me a little as I remained on the doorstep, still not having been invited in. It was just as well one of the residents was giving out some warmth as there was definitely none coming from the little dog’s temporary master.
‘I thought you were going to meet me after work?’ I said, my tone free of recrimination but even I could hear the sense of insecurity in it. Had I got this wrong? Was this not how it worked? I’d taken his words at face value, but was that what people said, whether they meant it or not, in order to save any awkwardness after a one night stand?
‘Oh… right. Yeah. I… sorry. I forgot.’
I was still standing on the doorstep and feeling more and more awkward by the moment. Placing Bryan back down inside the house, I looked up at Nate. Something was off. A few hours ago he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off me. It had been him that had suggested meeting up again, and the tone he’d used suggested he definitely didn’t mean for a game of scrabble. Behind him I heard the unmistakeable sound of high heels clip clopping on the floorboards. Moments later, the owner of them came to stand beside Nate and looked at me, a mixture of curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite place on her face. Her arm moved casually and rested on Nate’s waistband. Her perfect face matched the toned body poured into a tight, Hermès-style bandage dress. It was a fake, I could tell – but a good one. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was glad that at least some of the skills from my previous life hadn’t been entirely lost. The front of my mind, however, was more focused on what she was doing there. The pieces were slowly falling into place. And now, as the long, fingers with their elegant French manicure curved round Nate’s waist, it was obvious what that expression I hadn’t initially been able to name was.
‘I’m Serena McKinley.’
It was possession.
24
