was...’
His deep tone faltered and he paused, scraped a match against the side of the box and lit the wood. Sat back on his haunches and gazed at the flicker of red and orange.
‘She was so very gentle, so kind.’ Wonder touched his voice. ‘It was as if she was something rare and beautiful and fragile on that estate. She had chestnut hair, long and thick, and brown eyes, and the warmest smile in the world—the kind that made you feel like you could do anything.’
The fire whoomphed and caught, illuminated the planes of his features, touched with sadness now. Ruby slipped off the sofa, and as if aware of her movements he shifted, so that they both ended up on the floor with the sofa at their backs. Without speaking she placed a hand on his thigh, tucked her body next to his.
‘She wanted to make something of her life. Her dream was to write, to travel, to see the wonders of the world. Mum encouraged her, and Tanya flourished—she loved books, absorbed information like a sponge. She’d tell me about all the countries out there and we’d hatch dreams of travel.’
‘She sounds wonderful—and it sounds like you loved each other very much.’
No wonder Ethan had rejected love—he’d had the most important person in his world snatched by death. Yet the darkness of his expression told her that it was even worse than that.
‘We did. It was Tanya who kept me on the straight and narrow for a long time. But as I got older it became harder for her.’
‘What about your mum?’
‘Mum was... Mum and I... It was difficult. I am the spitting image of my father. She hadn’t actually wanted a second child with him and she never really engaged with me.’
Ruby felt her nails score her palm—it sounded as though Ethan felt he’d deserved the indifference she read from his words. ‘That wasn’t your fault.’
A shrug greeted this and she held her peace.
‘No, but my behaviour was my own choice. The estate was my reality and I began to believe that Tanya’s aspirations could never happen. I started to bunk off school, began to go off the rails. But Tanya held me in check; I would have done anything for her. If she’d let me.’
Foreboding touched Ruby, drizzled her skin with dread. ‘What happened?’
‘She was bullied. I didn’t know—she didn’t tell me, and we were at different schools by then. Tanya was doing A levels, and that meant a bunch of kids had it in for her. It started out as small-time stuff, teasing with a nasty edge, and then it became sabotage of homework, and then it became worse and worse. They stalked her, threatened her with rape, and eventually she couldn’t take it any more. She killed herself.’
The words buzzed in the air like dark, malignant insects, and for a moment Ruby couldn’t take in the enormity of his words. Once they hit her she raised her hand to her mouth to stifle the cry of protest. ‘Ethan...’ The anguish on his face was enough to make her weep.
‘I found her. She’d overdosed—she’d found a stash of Mum’s sleeping pills and swallowed the lot.’ His voice jerked the words out, raspy and abuzz with a raw, jagged pain. ‘At first I thought she was asleep, and then...’
Ruby swallowed the lump of horror that clogged her throat, pressed her lips together to stop herself from crying out. The image was so clear in her brain—she could only imagine how etched it was on his. A younger Ethan—lanky, tall, unsuspecting—calling his sister, entering the room... And then the awful paralysed second when he would have realised the grim truth and his life had changed for ever.
‘Ethan...’ Her voice was a whisper as compassion robbed her breath. ‘I am so very sorry. I cannot imagine what you and your mother went through.’
The words were inadequate against such calamity, and she could only hope that the tragedy had brought mother and son closer.
‘Mum was devastated. It was a dark time.’
For a long moment he stared into the flames and then he shifted slightly. Scored his palm down his face as if in an attempt to erase the memories.
‘Do you think we could change topic? I’m kind of talked out.’
‘Of course we can.’
Ruby tried to pull her thoughts together, her heart aching for what he had been through. For what he had told her and for the troubled relationship that he had with his mother. But now she wanted to lighten the mood, hoping that their conversation had been cathartic.
‘How about a picnic and some board games?’
Surprise touched his face, and then his lips tipped into a small smile. ‘That sounds perfect.’ As she rose he followed suit and placed a hand on his arm. ‘Thanks for listening.’
He cupped her jaw in his palms and dropped the lightest and sweetest of kisses on her lips. And her heart ached all the more.
* * *
As dawn slipped through the shutter’s slats Ethan slipped quietly from the bed, pulled on his jeans and gazed down at Ruby, her cheek pillowed on her hand, her dark hair in sheer contrast to the white of the pillowcase and the cream of her skin. Her beauty touched him on a strata that he didn’t want to identify and, turning away, he reached down for his shirt, thrust his arms into the sleeves and headed for the ladder.
Panic strummed inside him, made him edgy. Somehow Ruby had got right under his skin, and the idea caused angst to tighten his gut as he prowled the lounge and kitchen.
Memories of the past evening itched and prickled—they’d drunk cocoa in front of the lambent flames of the fire, talked of anything and nothing, laughed and philosophised. Then they’d gone to bed and... And there weren’t words, truth be told, and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to find any.
The panic grew—as if his actions had opened the floodgates. Letting her in had been a mistake, and nothing good could come of it. He wasn’t capable of closeness.
‘Ethan?’
He swivelled round, saw her at the top of the ladder. How long had she been there, watching him pace?
With an effort he forced his lips up into a relaxed smile. ‘Morning!’ he said, and his heart thumped against his ribcage as he took in her tousled hair, the penguin pyjamas.
Silence stretched into a net of awkwardness as she climbed down the ladder, paused at the bottom to survey him. Impulse urged him to walk over and carry her right back upstairs, and he slammed his hands into his jeans pockets and rocked back on his heels. No more impulses—because his emotions were already ricocheting off the Richter scale.
‘Coffee?’ he offered.
‘Yes, please.’
Trying to keep his body rhythm natural, he headed to the kitchen. The endeavour was a fail and he passed her, breath held, unsure what to do, ultra-careful not to touch her. Yesterday he’d have teased her mercilessly about the penguins, dropped a kiss on her lips, taken her hand... Now he sidled past.
Ruby stood stock-still, one finger tugging a strand of hair. ‘I’ll... I’ll go change,’ she said, the words stilted,
