But she didn’t have to worry about that now. She didn’t have to think about that now. Tonight, she was Bertie’s, safe and loved in his arms. And she was going to hang on to that with everything she had, even if it would only last for a few more hours.
She sprayed on her favourite perfume, grabbed her cardigan and ran down the hill to the promenade. The sun was shining and the air was warm, but further out to sea she spotted dark clouds and the hazy slant of falling rain. Although she may not be a huge fan of this town, she loved living by the sea. It reminded her that she wasn’t trapped; that across the water were other places to see and new things to explore. Hastings might sometimes feel like the end of the world, but it was only a starting point.
In the distance, she could see Bertie leaning against the rail and gazing out at the sea the same way she had just done. She hurried her legs faster and faster, warmth growing inside, the closer she got. Not only was she attracted to him physically – although they still hadn’t slept together; Bertie hadn’t wanted to push it, but if they didn’t do it tonight, when would they ever? – she was attracted to the person inside, too. She’d never felt this combination before, and she revelled in its headiness.
Jude lifted a hand as Bertie turned towards her, and she could see his smile growing bigger in a reflection of hers.
‘Hiya,’ she said when she reached him, tipping her head up to meet his lips. He folded her in his arms, and she tried not to think yet again that this would be the last night he’d hold her.
They chatted their way down the promenade and over to the fish and chip shop, the same one they’d got their first meal from after meeting at the pub. With every second that passed, no matter how frothy and flirty Jude tried to keep her tone, the heaviness in her heart increased until she felt like she could no longer breathe without a struggle. She could almost see a clock counting down their last seconds together.
As they crossed the beach to their favourite spot, the skies opened and rain poured down. Bertie grabbed her hand and together they ran underneath the concrete of the promenade, into a space strewn with litter that smelled of spilled beer and urine. Jude wrinkled her nose, rubbing her wet arms as goosebumps poked up. This was most definitely not what she’d had in mind for their last night together.
She swallowed. It was now or never, and if Bertie was too shy . . .
‘Shall we go back to yours?’ she asked. She wanted to keep her tone light and fun, but to her own ears it sounded shaky and uncertain. Bertie wasn’t someone she’d shag one night then simply move on. Whatever happened now would mean something to her . . . something she’d clutch close to her heart in the days to come without him. It might hurt – it would hurt – when he left, but she wanted that. She wanted a reminder of him, even if it was painful.
And as he nodded slowly, she could see that he felt the same way, too.
They clutched each other’s hands and dashed though the rain to Bertie’s hotel. Inside the tiny room, they sloughed off their wet clothes and stood facing each other. Normally, Jude would be worrying whether her boobs were too saggy (the perils of big breasts) or if the fish supper she’d wolfed down was making her tummy poke out, but in front of Bertie, she found she didn’t care.
His body was surprisingly sturdy and solid, and when she took a step forward to close the distance between them and his arms came around her, she could feel his heart beating steadily against her ear, a rhythm that grounded and stilled her. Rain lashed the window and the panes shook as they fell on to the bed. The world around them was dark and brooding, and they formed the one spot of light – light that was bursting from Jude as they kissed. Making love with Bertie wasn’t just about her body. For the first time, she felt it was about them, not as two separate people but making something new, something wonderful, together.
And when it was over, she lay in Bertie’s arms, both of them trying to catch their breath. He rolled over and raised himself up on one elbow, tracing the curve of her hip with his fingertips.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said, his voice soft.
Jude raised an eyebrow. ‘Uh-oh.’ She was joking, but her pulse picked up pace at his serious expression.
‘I realise we’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks,’ he said. ‘Well, even less than a couple. And I know it sounds horribly clichéd, but I feel like we belong together.’ He drew in a breath, and Jude could feel his heart beating quickly now. ‘You’re planning on going to London, and the last thing I want to do is stand in your way. But I have to ask, because if I don’t do it now . . .’ He swallowed. ‘Would you like to come to Edinburgh with me?’ The words tumbled out, and Jude jerked in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting that!
‘I mean, I’d move to London with you, but I have my house there and a job,’ Bertie continued. ‘And Edinburgh has a great music scene, too. Maybe it’ll be easier to get a start there? It’s not London, but . . .’
His words washed over Jude as her mind spun. Go to Edinburgh? Be with Bertie, with someone who understood her, who appreciated her – who barely knew her. Carolyn’s voice sneaked into her head on those last few words, but Jude pushed it away. It wasn’t true, anyway. Bertie did know her, in a way her sister never could . . . never would. He knew her better than anyone ever had, even if they had only met just weeks before.
In an instant, she knew what her answer would be. London would always be there – it wasn’t going anywhere. Bertie was, and she was going with him.
‘Yes,’ she said, beaming. ‘Yes, I’d love to. I’d love to come to Edinburgh with you.’
And as his arms tightened around her, she felt safer than she had since her parents had died all those years before. She wasn’t alone, not any more.
She had Bertie.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ELLA
I sat up the next morning, rubbing my eyes triumphantly. For the first night in weeks, I’d managed to sleep for hours without waking up – or having that horrific nightmare. If my subconscious was a dog, I’d give it a good pat on the head. Finally, it had submitted. I was proud of myself and confident I’d taken the right steps to return to normal.
I was just getting ready to go to work when my mobile rang. My heart dropped as I read the name. Carolyn. I sighed and picked up, hoping she wasn’t expecting another tête-à-tête, like last night. I knew talking about my mother would make her think I’d let down my guard.
‘Sorry to ring so early, but I wanted to catch you before you left for work,’ she said.
‘That’s okay.’ I grabbed my jacket and my backpack, ready to head out the door.
‘I just wanted to see how you are this morning,’ she said, her tone strangely pinched. ‘Have you had a chance to go through your mother’s things?’
I sighed. I didn’t want to reminisce with her over my mother’s belongings – not now, and not ever. It was all packed up, both in my mind and in my space. ‘Not yet,’ I said, thinking it was the easiest answer to cut this conversation short.
‘Oh, okay.’ Far from the disappointment I was expecting, Carolyn sounded relieved. ‘Well, don’t worry about the shoebox – it’s just a bunch of old letters; nothing to do with your mother. I don’t know why Rob gave it to you. I think he was trying to make space in his shed for more gardening tools . . . or at least that’s what he told me this morning.’ She laughed, but it sounded high and tense, far from her usual affectionate tone when she spoke of her husband.