Page 56 of Tears of Ink
No big thing… I haven’t slept since.
Did he say I looked beautiful?
“Why do you look so shocked?” His voice lowers and warms, and I squirm my feet together as a tingle works up my legs.
I take another sip of coffee. “I don’t think anyone’s told me I look beautiful before.”
His mouth falls open a little. “Well, clearly you’ve been hanging around with the visually impaired.” He leans closer and the scent of soap on his skin and a subtle note of a warm aftershave fills my senses. “Because standing there, laughing, your face shining bright, your hair soaking wet, you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
“Oh, shut up.” I hit him with my hand. “I bet you say that to all your female friends.”
He shrugs and gets up from the bed. I want to ask him to stay there a moment longer, so I can blink the image onto my retinas for my memory bank. “I don’t have any female friends.”
“You don’t?”
“Do you have male friends? The type I should be jealous of?”
My mind flashes to Dan dealing with the worst period of his life, and I’m sat here grinning like a fool at some handsome aristocrat. “No.”
“That’s good.”
I don’t know what good means, but he leaves me to get dressed and I neck back the rest of my coffee. I need to get my hands on more of that nectar later, but right now I slip into the en-suite wet room where I stand under a hot shower and try to wake up.
By the time I’m out, dry, dressed in baggy linen trousers and a light oversized shirt, I’ve managed to calm myself down. It was just a kiss.
He’s already at the breakfast table when I attempt to face his family again. His eyes dance as I walk in and I know he’s staring at me on purpose so I’ll blush.
Tabitha pats the space next to her. Her mother doesn’t lower the paper to note my arrival. The wicked witch is thankfully absent. Jennings brings me some more potent coffee, and I rip a croissant to shreds.
“How was your evening?” Tabitha asks innocently. “Did you manage to get the glass right?”
I pop a shred of pastry into my mouth. “It was rather dull actually.”
Elijah snorts across the table and raises an eyebrow which I dutifully ignore.
“No Peter today?” I haven’t seen him since my first lunch, and I’m guessing like Elijah, he stays away from the family crazy as much as possible… although Elijah has been here every night since I have… I lock the thought away. Stop it.
Jennifer lowers her paper and gives me a pointed look. “No, Peter takes his work very seriously.”
I don’t catch Elijah’s eye, but he studies his muesli with great intensity.
With a tight smile sent in Jennifer’s direction, I decide that breakfast isn’t for me. I’ve never eaten a lot, but my intake of food has decreased dramatically since taking up residence at Bowsley. I now realise that’s why rich people are always so thin; it’s because the conversation at mealtimes is so awkward no one wants to eat.
“I’m going to go and prep the studio. I want it to be perfect.” God, I’m going to puke. In an hour people will be here watching me turn sand into glass. Let’s just hope I bloody can.
We’ve got the portable kilns all set up, so I need to get them ready. And I want to show people, if they are brave enough to have a go at glass blowing, so I need to make sure we have safe areas.
Why didn’t I do more yesterday? What have I been doing with my time?
I’m at the door when I turn and notice Tabitha and Elijah are flanking me. Ha, stick that up your arse Ice Queen.
We walk to the outhouses in companionable silence.
“While I hate to admit it, Gerard was right about my mixture.” I’d thought about it a lot on the night; it hasn’t helped my insomnia.
“Who’s Gerard?” Tabitha quizzes.
“A total tool,” I tell her, but even I have to laugh. The burn of shame from allowing myself to trust and be hurt is fading. And it’s the man dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt who’s making me forget and lower my defences.
