The Language Of Spells Part 35

Cam was his usual capable self in the morning. Over the next couple of days, he kept Gwen up to date with the ongoing nightmare of funeral arrangements and work and his mother's unceasing devotion to outward appearances. He arrived at End House late every night, worn out from soothing concerned clients and organising a hundred tiny details. 'Thank G.o.d you're here,' he said into her hair as they lay together. She knew that it was vaguely inappropriate, but a wild bubble of happiness accompanied her every move. She knew that they'd turned a corner. Cam had come to her for comfort. That had to mean something.

Gwen pushed the hair from out of her eyes and leaned over the baking dish once again. She felt like she'd been filling cannelloni for ever. The first three batches had mysteriously burned, while remaining uncooked on the inside. This one, the fourth attempt, was going to cook perfectly. Gwen didn't care if she had to open the oven every two minutes; they were not going to burn. She eyeballed the cannelloni and told them sternly, 'Not on my watch. Not again.'

'Knock knock.' Cam pushed open the door. 'Is this a bad time?'

'Not at all.' Gwen tried not to show how pleased she was to see him. The last thing Cam needed was more pressure in his life. 'Did you hear me talking to the cannelloni?'

'Little bit.'

Gwen hoped the fact that she was already flushed from cooking would hide her embarra.s.sment. 'Come on in.'

Cam unlaced his boots before stepping out of them. He wrinkled his nose as the smell of burnt pasta hit.

'I know, I know.' She frowned. 'Nothing is coming out right any more. I used to be such a good cook.' I think my oven has been hexed.

'What's going on?'

Gwen looked away. 'I'm just distracted.' Like she could tell Cam about phantasms and cursed appliances. He'd have her sectioned.

'Nothing to do with your weird witchy powers, then?'

'The weird powers that you don't believe in?'

'The very same.'

Gwen paused. 'No.'

'You're lying,' Cam said mildly. He crossed the room, stepping over Cat until he was very close to Gwen. She tried to take a step back, but felt the counter edge on her back.

'Gwen Harper. Tell me what is going on.' He ducked his head to look into her eyes. 'Please?'

It was the please that did it. Gwen side-stepped neatly away. 'I need to get back to my cannelloni.' She wasn't going to bring up Lily Thomas or Iris's journals or the people that still kept turning up at her back door asking for help she couldn't give or any of it. She wasn't going to be another burden, another problem for Cam to solve. His face was lined with fatigue and worry and grief. She put her hand out and touched his cheek. 'Was there something you needed?'

Cam shot out an arm and grabbed Gwen around the waist. 'You are leaving me with no choice.'

Gwen started to speak, but found herself unable to finish. Cam's lips were soft upon hers and her thought processes were momentarily derailed. She wanted, more than anything, to sink into him. The solid, rea.s.suring, wonderful-smelling bulk of him. Instead, she pulled herself together and pulled away. Cam's arms tightened around her, hauling her back. He kissed her again.

'No,' she said. 'I need to finish the pasta.'

'Sod the pasta.'

Gwen laughed and kissed him back.

'So, here's what's going to happen.' Cam tightened his arms around her. 'We're going to go upstairs and get naked and horizontal and very, very happy.'

Gwen felt the blush increase in intensity. In fact, she thought, her head was going to catch on fire any second.

'And, after that, when I've got you nice and relaxed, you're going to talk to me. You're going to tell me what is going on and I'm going to help you.'

Gwen opened her mouth to speak, realised she had no idea what to say, and closed it again.

Later, Gwen snuggled in close to Cam, breathing in the smell of him and enjoying the sensation as he stroked her hair.

'Shouldn't we have "the talk"?'

'I already know about the birds and bees.' She heard the smile in his voice.

'Don't I know it,' Gwen said, snuggling closer. 'No. The one about our exes. Past relationships.'

'No thanks.'

She lifted her head to look at him. 'I don't mean we have to have a blow-by-blow account.'

'Well, that's a relief,' Cam said, c.o.c.king an eyebrow.

Gwen bit him gently. 'I'm serious. Don't you think we should talk about the important events from the last thirteen years? The people who have been important to us.'

'No.'

'Really?' She struggled to a sitting position.

'I will answer any questions you have about my past loves...'

Gwen winced on the word 'loves'.

'But I have no desire to know about yours.'

'Oh.' Gwen tried not to be offended. 'Aren't you even a tiny bit curious?'

'No.' He paused. 'That's not entirely true. But here's the thing. I intellectually accept that we have been apart for a long time and that you will have had relationships with other men. I accept that as a logical fact. I don't need details.'

Gwen was quiet, marvelling at his self-control. His self-possession. It was scary.

'I will say this, though.' Cam reached up and cupped her cheek with his palm. 'I've been living my life, thinking I'm reasonably happy and that this is as good as it gets, but now you're back I realise how wrong I was. It was a pale imitation of happiness. I haven't felt like this about anybody or anything else. Ever.'

'Oh.'

'Does that cover it?'

Gwen nodded, unable to speak.

'Good.' He patted the mattress. 'Now come here.'

Much later, after Gwen had dozed off and woken up and found Cam's arms still tightly wrapped around her and he'd moved and they'd begun all over again, Gwen stretched and climbed out of bed.

'Don't go.' Cam reached for her.

'I won't be long,' Gwen said. 'I really have to finish that cannelloni. If you're very good, I'll bring you a cup of tea in bed.'

Cam lay back. 'Okay. I should probably rehydrate after all that exercise.'

'Exactly.'

She felt him watching her as she pulled on her underwear. Her bra had made it all the way underneath the window and her socks were on top of the dressing table. Good throwing arm.

'So, what's the pasta-obsession, anyway?' Cam said.

Gwen pulled her T-shirt over her head. 'It's for the wake. For your granddad. I know your mum will probably pay for outside catering, but it wouldn't feel right to go empty-handed.' She did up her jeans. 'You'll have to tell me what sort of flowers to order, too. Unless he wanted donations to charity.' Cam's face had gone weirdly frozen. 'What?'

'The funeral was today.'

'Oh.' For a moment, Gwen felt cold, too. Then the numbness gave way to a single, crystal-clear thought: he still won't ask me to be part of his world.

Cam was struggling out of bed, fighting with the quilt. 'I didn't mention it because I didn't think you'd want to come.'

'Right,' Gwen said. She blinked. 'Right.' The man was bereaved. This was not the time to pick a fight.

He grabbed his shirt and began putting it on. His startled look settled into one of certainty. 'I didn't want you to feel obliged.'

That did it. 'b.o.l.l.o.c.ks,' Gwen said. 'You didn't invite me because you're embarra.s.sed to be seen with me. I don't belong.' I've never belonged.

'For Christ's sake. It was a funeral, not a party.' Cam was being defensive.

'Stop doing your Master of the Universe look,' Gwen snapped. 'Can't you just say "sorry" like a normal human being? You don't have to be right all the time.'

'But I am right. It was a family occasion. A funeral. It wasn't anything to do with you-' Cam stopped. 'I just mean-'

'I know exactly what you mean,' Gwen snapped. 'You don't think I'm good enough to be part of your life. Not properly. You're happy to sneak over here at night, but you're never going to take me out to dinner in town, be happy to be seen with me. I'm never going to be invited to your mother's fancy b.l.o.o.d.y Christmas Eve party.'

'What are you talking about?'

'I'm not Felicity, am I?'

'No.' Cam looked annoyed. 'I'm not with Felicity. I don't want Felicity. I want you.'

'Well, you don't get me,' Gwen said, feeling tears spill down her face. 'I deserve to be with someone who isn't embarra.s.sed to be with me. I deserve someone who accepts who I am and what I do.' Gwen's voice had gone hoa.r.s.e with the effort of not sobbing. Cam was staring at her as if she'd lost her mind and she realised that she didn't care. Last time she'd left Cam without a goodbye because she'd been too scared to be honest with him. She wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. 'I deserve to be with someone who is on my side. I don't care that you don't believe in magic, but I do care that you don't believe in me.'

'We'll talk about this later, when you've calmed down.' Cam laced up his shoes, grabbed his jacket.

'No.' Gwen shook her head. 'This. Us. Whatever it is. It's over.'

His face went closed, angry. 'Fine. If that's what you want.'

Gwen felt her throat close up. She thought of Elaine Laing and the triumph she'd feel. She'd thought that without Elaine dripping poison in Cam's ear, things would be different. 'I don't want a half-relationship,' she said. 'I don't want to be your dirty little secret.'

Cam shook his head. 'I've got to be practical. I've got to be sensible. People are relying on me. You have no idea how that feels.'

Gwen managed a grim smile. 'Right.'

'Especially now, with my grandfather gone. I can't afford any scandal. Any disruption.'

'I understand,' Gwen said, her insides hollowing out with misery. 'I do understand that.'

'And I can't stand that you still believe the nonsense you were fed as a child. I hate it.'

'Oh,' Gwen said, feeling sick at the coldness in his tone. 'It's good we're being honest now.'

'Did I tell you where my family's money went? Why it was so important that the firm didn't fail after my dad died?' Cam said.

'No. I a.s.sumed-'

'The firm had been doing well and Dad had made plenty of good investments. Mum should've been fine when he died. I would probably still have needed to train and take his place in the firm, but the money situation would've been okay.' Cam's voice went very quiet.

'While he was dying, my mother tried all kinds of things to make him better. Every charlatan on the block took her for a ride. Aromatherapy. Electrolyte baths. Every crackpot theory, every alternative therapy. She spent thousands.'

'I didn't know,' Gwen said.

'It wasn't like her,' Cam said. 'She's always been very logical, very intellectual. She was just so desperate.'

'My great-aunt Iris visited your dad,' Gwen said. 'But she never took his money.'

Cam hesitated, halfway out of the door. 'Well, that's something I suppose.'

'And she really helped him. Whatever she did, it helped take away some of his pain.'

'Don't,' Cam said, holding up one hand as if he could physically block her words, more angry than Gwen had ever seen him. 'Just don't.'

Gwen stood alone in the bedroom and listened to the slam of the front door.

Chapter 23.

At Millbank, Katie stood outside the science block staring at her mobile until the tiny black characters of the text message blurred. She, quite literally, couldn't believe her luck. Of all the girls in school, of all the girls he probably knew out of school while hanging out with the cool crowd and doing daring things like going to the pubs in town or hanging out at the folly, he had chosen her. Katie Moore. She read the three texts for the thousandth time and hugged the phone to her chest.

Finally, after composing and discarding several versions in her head, she spelled out: ok c u 2nite x The kiss. She'd put it in, she'd taken it out. He'd used one on his last text and she didn't want him to feel stupid for doing so and she wanted to show she felt the same way but, and this was so important, not in a way that said she felt more than he did. If Katie had learned anything from films and TV, it was that no boy liked a desperate girl. Or even a keen one.

That evening, she feigned period cramps. She made a hot water bottle and, clutching it to her middle, cried off dinner.

'Are you sure?' Her mum was shredding celeriac and radishes for a Jamie Oliver recipe, the small TV on the counter showing the very same man, bish-bashing garlic and a.s.suring the viewers that everything was 'beautiful'.

'I think I'll just go to bed. Maybe watch a movie on my laptop.'