Page 11 of In Knots

Chapter 4

When I make it back into the city, Jonathan’s waiting for me in the lobby of the foundation, arms crossed over his chest. He takes a long hard look at my sopping wet and bedraggled state.

“Do I want to know?” he says.

“Probably not,” I confess, then hesitate. “Don’t tell Mum.”

He rolls his eyes and I know that means he won’t.

“We’d better get you home and inside then, kiddo, before she’s back and sees you for herself.”

Most of the interior of the car is still damp despite my best efforts to mop all the water away with my cardigan. Jonathan eyes roam over the damage and he sighs.

“Guess I’ll be cleaning this up,” he mutters.

“The storm broke suddenly,” I say, willing my cheeks not to redden. “I got the roof up as quickly as I could.”

The rain still slides against the windscreen, washing away the dry dust of the last few days as he drives me home, and the air is cool and fresh.

The house stands empty when we return. I sneak up to my room and drag a comb through my tangled hair, wiping away the smeared mascara from under my eyes.

Claude mewls at me and curls around my ankles until I lift him up and snuggle my face into his warm fur. He purrs loudly, his eyes drifting shut in obvious bliss. It’s our routine. He’ll allow me a few minutes of cuddling and then he’ll be off again, prowling the grounds on the lookout for some feast. My mother’s threatened to get rid of him a million times, every time he leaves me a gift – a headless mouse, a mauled bird. But I don’t mind. I know it means he loves me.

When he’s had his fill, he drops from my lap, and I watch him slink through the open window.

I try not to think of that kiss. Forcing the memory from my mind every time it creeps back in. Inevitably it does though, my body growing warm and tingly at the memory of his mouth on mine.

Plenty of men have tried to kiss me over the years. Some I’ve let. More out of obligation or curiosity than anything else. The action has always been unpleasant, wet and sloppy. The man’s scent curdling in my nose, the closeness of his skin overbearing.

It’s never felt like it did this afternoon. I don’t understand how it could have felt so different. Dreamy. That’s what it was. And it feels like a dream now. Like something that happened to another girl, in another time.

My parents arrive home later, and I join them for dinner at eight pm on the dot in the dining room even though I’m not hungry.

“We need to buy you a new dress for your date next week,” my mother says watching me push asparagus and grilled salmon around my plate.

“It’s not necessary,” I say, wanting to avoid a shopping trip. “I can wear my blue dress.”

My mother rests her fork on the edge of her plate. “It’s getting a little old. I think you need something fresh for this date.”

“This is with …” my father asks, addressing my mother and not me.

“Simon Stanford. Marcus Stanford’s oldest son. He took quite a shine to Alexa at the Johnson’s dinner.”

“Ahhh yes,” my father nods, chewing as he does. “Fine family. Fine boy.”

“Just returned from studying in America.”

“So, I heard. His father has high hopes for him. I should invite them both for a round of golf.”

“Perhaps wait and see how the date goes first,” I venture.

My father stares across the table at me as if I’m speaking nonsense. “It would be a very good match. A very, very good match. Advantageous for both our families. Your mother is right. Buy a new dress.”

“We’ll go tomorrow.” My mother looks at me with narrowed eyes. “This nonsense needs to end. The strain,” she massages her temple, and my father rests a steadying palm on her shoulder. “We need to get you mated.”

My father snorts in agreement, and I look away to the window. The rain has finally stopped, and the housekeeper has opened all the windows and doors to circulate the cooling air. The curtains flutter, frisked by the breeze that sweeps into the room. I let my right hand drop to my thigh and dig my nails into the flesh, biting hard on the inside of my cheek. It hurts but I have to do it, otherwise, I’ll scream.

As soon as I’m able, I excuse myself and slink back to my room. Stripping down to my underwear, I climb onto my bed and lie back against the pillows, my eyes flicking to the window once again. The clouds that dominated the skies earlier have cleared and now the moon shines bright in the sky, staring straight back at me.

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