‘Hannah. Can we talk about this? I’m sorry. I don’t know… I haven’t… I’m not…’
She swallowed a wash of guilt. What was she doing playing with this poor man? Alistair couldn’t do light romance if he tried. Maybe he could have once, but certainly not now. She looked across the quiet pool. ‘It’s okay. I understand if you don’t want to.’
He laughed, a low bitter sound as he pulled his feet onto the rock. ‘Don’t want to? Are you mad? I couldn’t want anything more. But it’s not that simple any more. There’s this fear, gut-wrenching. I can’t help it. It paralyses me, and I’m so scared it will never go away.’ He pushed his hand into his hair. Hannah recognised the gesture for weariness. He went on, ‘When you arrived, I found myself thinking, for the first time, about you rather than Marilie. You got into my head. It felt like I’d been set free from her… but it’s not over yet.’
Hannah dropped her chin to her knees. ‘You mean, just now, when we were… you were thinking of her?’
‘No, Hannah! Dammit! I just can’t get this out right.’ He scrubbed his face with his hands and then looked directly at her. ‘No. I mean, I second-guess myself all the time. I read a hesitation as unwillingness. A frown as disgust. Hannah, I’ve lost my nerve.’
She nodded. Neither spoke for a while, and she wondered how to sidle round the silence.
Alistair swallowed loudly and then said, with a rasp in his voice, ‘Hannah, would you try kiss me again?’
Her throat tightened at his courage. Scared to meet his eyes this time, she twisted her body to sit cross-legged in front of him. She took both his hands in hers, felt his fingers clench and then relax as she studied them. Using the resistance of his arms to pull herself onto her knees before him, her gaze slid to his neck, sunburnt above his collar, to his jaw, then his mouth. She felt her pulse begin to quicken and lightly touched her lips to that scarred mouth, feeling the ridges of smooth skin pulled crooked. Her lips softened and opened, and he gasped, his hands releasing hers to anchor her hips in front of him. His tongue tangled with hers and grew more demanding. She drew a sharp breath when his mouth moved to her jaw, to her ear, and the words were spoken against her skin: ‘I’ve wanted you like this since the moment I saw you.’ His hands pushed up under her shirt, rough against the skin of her back.
She threaded her fingers into his hair, pulling his head close as he moved his mouth to her neck, the pressure of his teeth making her gasp. ‘Alistair…’ Her whisper snapped the tension, and he leant the top of his head against her collarbone, breathing unevenly. She drew another breath, still stroking her fingers through his hair. ‘I don’t think this a good idea. I mean, right now. The whole district is sitting fifty metres away.’
‘Sorry,’ said Alistair. Then: ‘I’m not really sorry,’ and she smiled into his hair.
Hannah kissed him softly on the forehead and sat back on her knees. She watched him get to his feet, move up the slope to retrieve his shoes, sitting back down next to her to lace his boots. When he was standing, he reached out a hand to pull her to her feet and into his arms once more. His mouth this time was soft. A kiss on her smiling lips, a kiss on her cheek, and a gentle nip on her ear which made her draw a sharp breath. He stepped away from her and turned to haul her the short distance up the riverbank. When they were back on the grass, he kept hold of her hand, and Hannah felt her heart contract again.
CHAPTER TWENTY
They walked hand in hand towards the others. Hannah saw Esme register their approach with shock, her hand reaching up to grasp her throat, her eyes stricken. Alistair dropped Hannah’s hand as if scalded, as Esme stumbled from her chair, through the startled people still lounging on the grass, towards her car. Small, agonised yelps came from her mouth, an animal in distress. She scrambled into the front seat of the car and slammed the door closed. Sarah hurried over to the car, tried to open the door, then spoke through the window, but Esme sat immobilised. Her face like stone staring blankly forwards. Alistair quickly moved off to find Karl, leaving Hannah uncertain and guilty. Her hands hung at her sides, feeling horribly empty.
Karl touched Sarah on the shoulder and spoke quietly to her. She squeezed his arm, looking so full of pity that Hannah felt a lump in her throat. He walked around the car, pulling his keys from his pocket, his face weary and suddenly drawn. As they reversed and drove off, Esme still stared ahead, frozen.
The mood of the day had splintered, and people began taking their leave of Sarah and Neil. Hannah moved to the tables to help Suzanne and Kathryn as they covered dishes with plastic wrap, loading crates with glasses. Hannah shook out a black rubbish bag and began to collect paper plates and crumpled serviettes. She always found the aftermath of a party depressing, but this was horrible. She felt responsible for its terrible end.
As if reading her mind, Kathryn pulled her into a side hug, saying, ‘It’s not your fault.’ Hannah threw her a sarcastic scowl. ‘Okay, you could have timed your reappearance a bit better.’ Kathryn’s mouth spread in a grin. ‘And maybe tried to hide that great big hickey starting on your neck.’
Hannah’s hand flew to her neck. She had completely forgotten Alistair’s teeth on her skin. She groaned, ‘How could this have happened? I’m such a terrible person.’
Suzanne came up alongside them, taking the black bag from Hannah. ‘Any girl who gets my brother playing cricket and kissing her senseless gets my vote as the best thing that’s happened to him in a long time.’
‘I should go,’ said Hannah, looking for her bag under the deck chair.
‘Please don’t,’ said Alistair’s voice from behind her. ‘Don’t let Esme ruin more than she has already.’ He watched as Hannah pulled a light cardigan from her bag, tying it into a knot around her neck. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t thinking.’ He smiled. ‘I seem to be doing that a lot around you.’
‘Too late to cover it up now. Everybody’s seen it, Hannah,’ said Douglas, coming over to Kathryn with one sleeping twin against his shoulder and giving Hannah a wink. Hannah groaned and hid her face in her hands.
They watched Douglas and Kathryn drive away. By the time the field had been cleared, the light was fading. Hannah walked up to the house with Gen, the zinc tubs stacked together between them and each woman gripping a handle.
Gen was furious. ‘What was Mum thinking, inviting Karl and Esme! Alistair will never come out of mourning if he constantly has to be under Esme’s judgement. Mum and Dad are too forgiving.’
‘I didn’t think there was such a thing for Christians,’ said Hannah quietly.
‘What?’ Gen looked at her sharply.
‘Being too forgiving, I mean. Aren’t Christians supposed to forgive seventy times seven or something like that?’
‘You’re talking to the wrong daughter.’
Hannah glanced curiously at her.
‘Let’s just say I’ve strayed from the fold. When I told Mum that Glen and I had moved in together, I thought she was going to fall down dead from the shock.’
‘What did she say?’ Hannah couldn’t imagine Sarah shaken.
‘She managed to recover, and now she tries very hard with Glen, but I know that my two worlds don’t really mix. I’ve chosen his world, and will just have to make sorties across the border every now and then,’ she said, her mouth curving in a small smile.