Winter's End Part 7

She washed up and then walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. The children had finished breakfast and were preparing themselves for school. Richard was at the sink, washing up the evidence of their meal.

"Hi" he said, noticing her at the door. "I thought we should let you sleep in and helped ourselves."

She gave him a small smile.

"Do you want a cup of coffee? The pot's still hot," he said.

She nodded and sat at the table. "Thanks."

He poured her a cup.

"I...I'm sorry about last night," she muttered. Her eyes were lowered, her fingers played with the ear of the cup. "I was rude. I shouldn't have said that. I just didn't expect you. So you kind of caught me by surprise."

"Perhaps, I should have let you know I was coming. I suppose I deserved it, arriving at your home unannounced." He was leaning against the sink, his arms crossed across his chest.

"No, no," she stood up abruptly. "It's your right, Richard. You're always welcome here. You know that. You are after all the children's uncle and they love you."

He looked at her, his eyes were seething with anger. He brushed past her and out of the kitchen.

"Okay, we're ready," she heard Jai announce.

Jai and Hannah ran into the kitchen to bid her goodbye and then ran out the door into Richard's car.

She heard him rev up the engine and drive off up her driveway.

She stood alone in her kitchen. Her house was silent.

But then her heart began to race as she ran up the stairs and into the guest bedroom that Richard had occupied. She swung open the door, her eyes filled with fear as she searched the room with it. But there, beside the window, sat his little black luggage bag.

She leant against the door frame and let out a sigh of relief. But it was only momentary, because her heart was racing again for another different reason. She was going to be alone...with Richard.

Richard didn't arrive home until lunch. He sat sullenly at the table without a word.

Emma was tongue tied, confused as to how she should break the iceberg that lay between them.

"You're late," she started.

"I didn't know you were keeping time."

Emma swallowed a nervous gulp in her throat. "I thought we could have sandwiches for lunch and..."

"I'm not hungry," he rose from his chair. "I had a snack in Portree."

"You went all the way to Portree?"

"I didn't know how else to spend my time here."

"You could have come home. We could have..."

"I'm here for the children. I thought you made that abundantly clear." He turned to walk out of the kitchen. "I'll pick them up as well. I intend to spend as much time as I can with them before I return to London."

Emma saw him head up the stairs and towards his bedroom. She bit her lip. She had offended him.

She sat on her couch, attempting to watch a mid-day soap opera, but instead her eyes kept darting to the stairs occasionally. When he didn't emerge from his room in an hour, she rose and made her way towards it.

"Richard," she knocked gently on the door. "Can I come in?"

When he didn't answer, she turned the door k.n.o.b gently. But the room was empty and she was baffled slightly until she became suddenly aware that the guest shower had just turned off. She turned to rush out the door as he entered the room with a towel wrapped at his waist. She realised though, she was late and blushed at being caught in his room.

"I...I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't know you were in the shower."

His hair was damp, and pearls of water droplets glimmered on his body. She tried desperately to focus on his eyes as she spoke, however his fresh scent did little to help ease the rising heat inside her.

"Did you need something?" he asked, frowning.

"No, I..," she said, searching for words. "I don't know what it is but I do know you're angry. I don't know what I may have said...done, but whatever it is, I'm...sorry."

His eyes narrowed and a nerve pulsed at his temples. In a glimpse, he had crossed over to her and pinned her angrily against the door.

"Sometimes I think Emma, if you are really so naive. Otherwise you put on a h.e.l.l of an act," he whispered in a low, dangerous tone.

She leant frozen against the door. The only barrier between his naked torso and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were her arms that folded between them.

"I don't understand," she said, her eyes welling with tears.

"Don't provoke me, Emma," he warned. He lowered his left hand, slowly running it down her side until it touched her slender waist. He drew closer to her so that his lips were almost touching hers and his eyes peering deeply into hers.

Emma felt a sensation run up her spine.

"You shouldn't have come here," he threatened in that low voice again. He gripped the door k.n.o.b that sat close to her waist and turned it.

"Get out," he growled. "Get out before I do something we will both regret."

Emma pushed the trolley along to the car park. Three days had pa.s.sed and she and Richard had barely exchanged words. Finally not being able to bear the tension between them, she escaped to Broadford under the pretence of shopping. She bought a pair of gloves she didn't need, cans of vegetables when she had already a dozen in her pantry and two gallons of milk, just in case.

"Hi there," she heard someone call out. "Emma! It's Lisa."

She turned and saw her neighbour running up to her car, her blonde hair waving in the sea breeze.

"Hi," she said, with a very trying smile. Lisa hadn't spoken to her ever since she discovered Emma's closeness to Ethel Kinnaird. She also had an inkling that she had been avoiding her. Lisa had stopped paying her occasional random visits to her home and rarely looked her in the eye when she visited the co-op.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Lisa panted. "I have been busy and all, what with work and the children's school."

"I thought it was more to do with my friendship with Mrs. Kinnaird," Emma let out frankly.

"I was afraid," Lisa said.

"What about? Why is everyone so afraid of Mrs. Kinnaird?" she demanded.

"Why don't we sit and talk it properly over a cup of coffee?" Lisa said. "Please?"

Emma looked at her briefly, contemplating. "Fine," she said at last.

And the two women strolled over to the coffee shop next to the co-op store.

Seated now at a window overlooking the Broadford Bay, Emma said, "Listen, if this is all about trying to convince me to stay away from Mrs. Kinnaird, then forget it. I'm not in the mood. Save it for another day."

"It isn't," said Lisa.

Emma gave her a suspicious look.

"I swear, it isn't," Lisa insisted.

"So why then were you afraid?"

"She's a powerful woman, particularly in Skye. I don't want to get on the wrong side of her. n.o.body does. And when I heard that you had befriended her and become quite close... I thought you would tell on me."

"Well, I didn't," said Emma, matter-of-factly.

"I know that now. I'm sorry. And of course, I was a tad bit jealous as well."

Emma smiled. "Jealous?"

"Yeah. I was your first friend here in Skye and then that old Mrs. Kinnaird took over."

Emma burst out laughing. "Mrs. Kinnaird didn't take over, Lisa. You pulled back."

"Okay. Well, there were rumours as well."

"Rumours? What sort of rumours?"

"Just that...," Lisa quietened, thinking. "Just rumours. Silly come to think of it now. Don't worry about it. You know what, let's drop Mrs. Kinnaird here. There's something else I want to ask. Who's the handsome fella that's moved into your house?"

Emma was stunned by her directness. She never had really given a thought of how she was going to explain her relationship with Richard. She didn't think she owed an explanation to anyone. Not ever did she have to in London. But this was Skye. This was different.

What should she say? That Richard was her brother-in-law? Her deceased husband's elder brother, who maintained close ties with her and her children and coincidently was single?

She gulped nervously. "A friend from London."

Lisa's eyes widened with excitement. "Really? Any potential love interest?"

"No!" Emma almost screamed it out aloud. "No, just a friend."

"Oh, alright. If you say so. Listen, there's a dance party for couples at The Gaelic Inn in Dunvegan. We would love it if you and your friend could make it. Bill and I will be going and we would love to have you both as company."

"I don't know, Lisa," Emma said, wondering if Richard would be interested in going to a dance with her at all. Not after the row she had three days ago. But she also had no idea how long he was intending to stay.

"Well, here are the tickets anyway. Forward me the money whenever you're ready, as long as it's before the twentieth of March." She pulled out two grey tickets from her wallet and handed them over to her.

Emma took them hesitantly.

"Our differences aside, it is for a good cause, Emma. They're trying to raise funds to buy computers for the local school. I do hope you'll go."

Emma smiled. "I'll do my best. And if Richard won't accompany me, I might just take along Mrs. Kinnaird."

Lisa almost gasped.

Emma burst into laughter. "Oh Lisa. I won't. I promise."

"About Mrs. Kinnaird," Lisa said. "I didn't mean to describe her as a devil woman or anything. People have just kept away from her. That's how it has always been. Please, don't take me wrong."

Emma put her hand over hers. "Don't worry about it Lisa. Really."

CHAPTER 8.

When she arrived home, the children were watching television and Richard was in the conservatory, reading.

He must have heard her because he followed her into the kitchen. "You're late," he said, watching her unpack the groceries.

"Yeah. I got chatting with Lisa Johnston. She lives at number 17 down the road," she mumbled. She wasn't quite in the mood of an explanation.

"You could have called," he said, gruffly. "You have a phone."

"So do you Richard, if you desperately wanted to find out," she retorted.

He walked over to her in two quick steps and grabbed her by the elbows. "Do you know how worried I was?" he whispered, angrily. "Not knowing where you were. Where you had gone. Don't you think of anyone else other than yourself?"

She shut her eyes, not wanting to see his riled ones. She would have shut her ears if he had not been holding onto her arms so tightly. Unable to restrain herself anymore, she let her tears flow from her eyes.

"Is that how you see me, Richard?" she quivered. "Selfish and uncaring?"

His eyes softened on seeing her tears and pulled her into his arms.

They stood there silent for a while, her head resting against his chest, his arms wrapped around her.

It had been long since she felt the warmth of a man. Leaning onto Richard right now made her feel good.