Clare Houston - An Unquiet Place

‘Good for you. This place suits you, Hannah. You seem different somehow.’ He frowned at her, his head tilted to the side. Then he shrugged the thought off. ‘I’m happy on the floor or the couch. Do you mind if I crash right now? I haven’t slept since I left Cambridge two days ago.’

Hannah glanced across at him and realised his eyes were shadowed with fatigue beneath the mischief. She softened. ‘Take my bed for the afternoon. I’ll wake you up for supper.’

As he unzipped the duffel and began rooting for a change of clothes, Hannah stood in the passage doorway, watching.

‘How come Mum didn’t know where you were? I thought she would be seeing as much of you as she could.’

‘I told you already, she got a bit possessive, a bit neurotic.’

‘The woman you were fleeing was Mum? Joseph Harrison, you are too much!’ Hannah couldn’t help the laugh which gurgled to the surface. She left him stripping off his shirt in the bathroom and turning on the shower. Throwing a clean towel into the bathroom doorway, she pulled the passage door closed behind her.

‘Phwoar!’ said Kathryn as Hannah returned to the reading room.

‘Stay away, Kathryn. He is a piece of work where women are concerned. He has had a perpetual string of women since he was sixteen, and probably broken every single one.’ Catching sight of Kathryn’s smile, she added, ‘And don’t think you’ll be the one to change him, either!’

Hannah resumed her sorting as Kathryn lay back in her arm chair. ‘Don’t worry. He reminds me of Chris when I first met him – astonishingly good-looking with all the confidence-slash-arrogance that goes along with it. Consider me severely burnt in that regard.’

The next morning, Alistair opened Hannah’s garden gate, the squeak of the hinges rousing a sleepy tortoiseshell cat from its nap on a deck chair. It stretched its front paws out and yawned, giving Alistair a sceptical look, before beginning to clean itself. He climbed the steps and rapped on the kitchen door. Everything looked quiet through the glass doors. His scarred reflection stared back at him, and he wondered if he still had time to escape back to his car. He’d barely made it back to the deck steps when the door opened behind him. With a nervous smile, he swung around, then stopped, paralysed at the sight of a good-looking man, sleep tousled, wearing only tracksuit bottoms.

‘Hi,’ said the man casually, reaching his arms above his head, his torso rippling in a stretch very like the cat’s.

‘Hi…’ said Alistair, his brain stumbling for words, ‘I was looking for Hannah, but I’ll try her later at the shop, I think.’

‘Who are you?’ said the man, his tone friendly.

‘I was wondering the same…’

‘I’m Joseph.’

‘Okay…’ Alistair waited for Joseph to add anything which might explain who he was, but Joseph just stood looking at him, completely at ease.

‘What should I tell Han when she gets back?’

Wanting to get away from this awful encounter, Alistair could only mumble, ‘Don’t worry,’ before turning to the gate just as Hannah came through it. Her face was flushed, her running gear damp with sweat. Her hair had escaped the ponytail to curl in moist wisps in her neck and around her face.

‘Hi, honey, how was your run?’ Alistair heard Joseph call from the deck.

Hannah shot her brother a confused look. Alistair turned back to the deck where Joseph was grinning down at them. ‘You know, I was missing Han so much, I just had to come and see her. She’s so damn gorgeous, isn’t she?’ He yanked her ponytail as she came past him and pulled her into his side.

‘Shut up, Josey,’ said Hannah, wresting herself away from him. ‘What can I do for you, Alistair?’

‘It’s obviously not a good time,’ said Alistair in a rush to leave, ‘Thanks. I mean… bye.’ He stumbled down the path. Damn. He knew he shouldn’t have come. Agreeing to be friends didn’t mean he could expect her to be single. Of course she’d choose a man like Joseph. Laid back, good-looking, affectionate. No way to compete with that.

Hannah punched Joseph on the arm. ‘You are such a bastard!’

Joseph, laughing, turned back into the house, rubbing his arm.

‘Wait, Alistair!’ Hannah jogged out the gate and reached him as he unlocked his Toyota, catching his arm. She felt him jolt and he pulled away, putting some distance between them. Her heart stammered for a moment and she blinked. What on earth was that? Awkwardness hovered.

‘Sorry. My brother is a complete idiot. He loves messing with people, especially me.’

‘I thought—’

‘I’m so sorry. I’ve spent much of my life apologising for my brother. I love him, but no one can infuriate me like he can.’ As she smiled up at Alistair, she could see the tension dissipate from his face. He let out a breath and leant against the side of his car.

‘I came to ask if you would like to go and see Surrender Hill?’ He looked up at the sky. ‘It’s a beautiful day. Maybe this afternoon?’

‘What’s Surrender Hill?’

He smiled. ‘A battle site, relatively close by. It’s where a large portion of the Boer army surrendered to the British. I’m taking Douglas to show him. And today is Day of Reconciliation – seems appropriate somehow.’

In more ways than one, she thought, wondering if they would ever figure out a relationship which wasn’t fraught with emotion. She nodded. ‘I’d love to come.’ Then her face fell. ‘But I made plans with Kathryn.’

‘Bring Kathryn.’

When she came back into the house, Joseph was sitting at the table eating an enormous bowl of cereal. Patchy sat next to him on the table, watching him adoringly and purring.

Hannah shook her head in disgust as she passed him on her way to the shower. ‘Even cats? Really?’

‘I can’t help it.’ He shrugged.

‘What are you doing today?’ she yelled from the bathroom.

‘I’ve got some calls to make, emails to send. I probably need to let some people know where I am. You?’

‘I’ll be out this afternoon.’

Later that afternoon, they set off from the bookshop. Hannah and Kathryn rode in Kathryn’s car, her twins strapped into their seats. Douglas and Alistair drove ahead in Alistair’s Hilux.

Alistair dropped his speed so that Kathryn could follow. She was either a very cautious driver, or she was distracted. Alistair would put his money on the latter. He glanced in his rear-view mirror again, and could see Kathryn gesticulating wildly as she told a story. Hannah threw her head back, laughing with an abandon which made him envious. There was always tension between him and Hannah. Even though they were no longer openly fighting, Hannah was still a long way from being as relaxed with him as he would like.

Douglas turned his body to face Alistair and leant against the passenger door.

‘What’s going on with you and the beautiful Hannah?’

Alistair felt his brows shoot up. ‘Nothing. Why would you ask that?’

‘It’s certainly not nothing. There’s enough spark between you to warrant carrying a fire extinguisher. Whether it be lust or anger, it’s not nothing. Have you seen anyone since Marilie’s death?’

Alistair shook his head, really not wanting to go down this road. ‘You’re not shy of getting straight to the point.’

‘No one? Not one? And it’s been what, five years?’

‘Eight,’ said Alistair, feeling his hands begin to clench on the steering wheel.

‘Eight years is a long time to be alone. I’ve been married and divorced in half that time, and even I’m thinking it’s time to move on.’