Laura wondered about it all, how she had come to be in his life and that of his family, Neville Anderson's divorce from his children's mother matched by the irrevocable breakdown of her relationship with a man who had abused her and that her successful counselling business had made him extremely jealous of. It had seemed an unlikely match between her and Neville, a holiday fling that had occupied the three weeks they had been on the island of Barbados. She had extended her stay by a week and, without the least sign of embarrassment, moved into his small suite of rooms overlooking the ocean. It had been a wondering distraction for them both, but from the moment of their first encounter on the beach when Neville had been absorbed in skimming stones off the tranquil sea surface, to a subsequent affair, the companionship discovered had defied any explanations other than that they had 'found the one' for them.
Neville didn't dwell on the thought that he had believed it to be so once before and when he had married Elizabeth Howden. Nor did he choose to dwell on Laura's past life and loves, save, as she had told him, that it had been eventful but never emotionally rewarding.
Laura had chosen to sit down by his side and watch Neville skim stones. She had even done it for herself as they talked, placing rope sandals by her side, between them, and pushing her fingers through shoulder-length auburn hair that she often braided to the nape of her neck and fastening it with a colourful bow or beaded grip. It was a low-maintenance idea, given that she loved to swim. After a few days out in the sun, streaks of natural blonde had begun to appear and Neville's captivating laugh, the creases on either side of his eyes as he did so, his undoubted and uninhibited ways of dancing with her, had made their time together on the island simply pass by in a romantic and passion-filled whirl.
Her relationship counselling business continued to be a raging success and it kept her in London for many days of the week, but she always drove up to the Anderson's home and there she would 'live' with Neville and try to fashion a bond with his son and daughter, Josh and Becky.
The girl was eighteen, or so, and moody. She was belligerent along with it and Laura knew that it would take some time for them to accept her as their father's companion. Loyalty, she thought, could only be stretched so far but in her relationship with Josh other instincts had soon come into play and could have wrecked what she had found with Neville.
'Take care of all that you have' her business often counselled, but for a moment she had ignored that advice.
♥
'Hi, so you're in here,' she was startled to hear a voice say cheerily. 'I followed the sound of you humming.'
Laura turned to look his way and met Josh's smile along with his appraising glance upon her. It again showed overt interest in her. It also hinted at renewed confusion in his mind.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the oval mirror that hung over the fireplace in what had once been a parlour but now served as a utility room. The sunlight streaming through the window made her long, unfastened, hair glisten as she turned to look at him, occasionally, as she ironed clothes for the day.
Neville's silk bathrobe was tightly fastened at her waist and shaped the press of her breasts against the fabric. Its hem was just above her knees and Josh would have seen her slender legs and that she stood barefoot before him, neatly painted red varnish on her toenails, as on her fingernails. Her hair did look a mess but she sensed that he did not notice that, at all.
She suppressed a sigh. This could get complicated as she felt that it was only too easy to look his way; more difficult to understand the sudden flush of longing that she now felt on seeing him and knowing that they were alone in the house. Neville had left for an early start at the porcelain factory that the family had owned for generations and had managed to trade on, to survive market turmoil through many difficult years that had included the pandemic.
'Hi,' she answered, suppressing a sigh of unease.
'Sorry, if I startled you,' he smiled. Josh leaned casually against the door frame, his reticence of other times when they were all together, for meals, no longer evident. 'Dad's out, I suppose?'
'Yes, Josh, he is,' she told the slender-faced young man, his features more relaxed and Josh's eyes taking in what she was wearing. She wondered if it had been wise not to get dressed before she had gone downstairs to do some ironing. Neville's dressing gown was scant cover for her body although she loved to feel the cool fabric against her skin. 'How long have you been standing there?'
'It's only been a few moments. Why Laura, is it a problem?'
'No, never mind,' she said on a shake of the head and resumed her ironing. She could not help but wonder about him, turning occasionally to look his way only to see that Josh continued to lounge against the wall, with one hand in the pocket of his stressed jeans and evidently at ease. His bulk seemed to fill the space and he now exuded confidence in what he was doing. Neville had told her of his son's many girlfriends, and the trouble he got into with some of them. Neville had also spoken of his son's feckless nature and a casual indifference to another's feelings when confronted about his behaviour.
'I don't mind you being here, you know?' he now chose to tell her.
Laura smiled. I've gathered that much, she thought.
She saw his eyes narrow as if he'd taken in something new about her. Perhaps it was the way that she moved or the slip of the silk over her skin. As her tan faded so the freckles on her breastbone, on the bridge of her nose, and her arms became more pronounced. The effects of the Barbados sun on her auburn hair, the sun-bleached strands that she was so pleased with, would remain a while longer.
She had become the centre of his attention and wondered where she was to go with that. Josh gave every sign of coming onto her and here she was, scantily dressed and struggling to quell the rushes of contradictory feelings that his presence and what she had heard of him, aroused in her. She too had been there, on first seeing him such a short time ago. How disconcerting to know that her interest in the young man had never quite left her, despite Neville's assured, tender, and deeply loving ways.
'I'm glad you don't mind. There's no point in endless arguments about what your father's been through, is there?'
'No, quite the opposite, in fact,' he laughed. 'I need someone to help me with Becky. She just wants to stress out...to make our lives and yours, in particular, so bloody messy and complicated. As if we haven't had enough to deal with...to get through, you know? My mother splitting, just like that!' The snap of his fingers, to both hands, echoed in the room and startled her for its intensity. 'Sorry, but it gets to me sometimes.'
'It's okay. Neville's told me about it.' She smiled again, quickly, nervously. 'And there's Becky. She's changed. She's met Dylan...seems serious about him, already.'
'We'll have to see, won't we?'
She heard his sullen tone as she recalled a recent weekend when they had all been together for a barbecue lunch that they had all worked at preparing.
'You and Leanne being with Dylan and Becky...you all got on so well at the weekend, I thought. Your father thought so too.'
'Yes, so he said.'
He'd drawn closer and she had met his look upon her as the blouse was laid out on the ironing board, pressed time and again, needlessly, as they talked of things that concerned them, most of all.
She made to unplug the iron.
'Here, let me do that?' he said helpfully, brushing past her. Their shoulders touched; her hand brushed his strong arm and she saw how his biceps flexed under his smooth, lightly tanned skin. 'I'm glad we can talk for a moment. Becky's so bloody confrontational and possessive, sometimes. She puts everyone off...guys mostly...guys who'd like to be with her. There were guys at school who didn't want the mess and tangle that she brings. Being away at boarding school, the two of us, was bad enough.'
They stood awkwardly close, just talking, and she heard again the bitterness in his tone as he talked of having been sent away from home. Under the bravura there also lay a deep feeling of being kept at arm's length from those he cared about. She had heard those that she counselled speak of what they had perceived to be another's indifference to their feelings, so why should they care when they pursued those ways too?
'And you're not like that, are you Josh? Not deep down.'
'You've noticed?' he smiled and seemed to visibly relax. His look upon her had softened and, in his look upon her, Laura felt a challenge. 'That's something...'
'I'm beginning to do that,' she answered, 'to notice how it is here between us all.'
It was difficult not to, sometimes, she thought, trying to grab her blouse and show Josh that she was intent on leaving him and getting dressed and that their chat was over.
Josh saw her look down at the ironing board, a frown of indecision on her face.
'I'll deal with that too, okay?' he soon told her.
Laura saw again the soft ripple of his arm muscles as he handed her the blouse. The board was soon stowed away in the ceiling-height cupboards that flanked one wall of the room. It served as a workspace and a sitting room, a place to get out of rain-soaked gear as and when the need arose. A battered, but comfortably old, armchair that had been covered in what was now a faded floral fabric, stood in one corner by a table with an oil lamp set at its centre. She had found it homely but now it was a place for a rendezvous with Josh, a place to talk and whether she wished it or not. No one, least of all a young man of Josh's age, had come onto her in quite the way that he had and continued to do.
'Want a coffee?' she blurted out, disconcerted. Crazy as it might seem, she had begun to think of what could follow these banal exchanges and how to deal with them.
'No...no thanks,' he soon corrected.
'Then I'll go and get dressed. Your father will wonder what I've been doing all this time.'
'You've been chatting to me, but you can please yourself,' he snapped moodily all of a sudden. His eyes never left her as Laura fussed with her hair, her blouse held in one hand. She sensed that he followed her every move and that Josh could not miss the dressing gown becoming loose with every move that she made. She managed to tighten the silk fastening but his devouring look upon her was again unmistakable and she could not keep a feeling of unease from creeping in on her.
'I will, Josh, and now I'll go.'
'In a moment...just wait a while longer.'
He stood in the doorway once more, blocking her way as she made to leave. 'Please, Josh; let me pass?'
