I had a hundred tries at writing another message to Will on Sunday, and my finger hovered over the call icon more times than I could count, but in the end, I decided I'd be better off speaking to him face-to-face. I wasn't great at deep and meaningful conversations at the best of times, and I needed to see his expression to work out what he wasn't saying as well as listening to what he was.
There was no sign of Will's BMW in the car park as Geri, the yoga teacher, held the door of Daylesford Hall open for me. While I felt like death, she looked perky in hot-pink leggings and one of those artfully draped tops that showed more than they hid. She'd even tied tinsel around her ponytail.
"You look tense," she said. "You need to relax more."
"I'm finding that difficult at the moment."
"I've got a class starting at five thirty. Why don't you join us? We're working on breathing and flow this week."
I slipped past her, grateful to be inside out of the cold.
"Tempting, but I start work as everyone else finishes."
"Maybe another week?"
"Maybe."
Er, how about never. How did she stay so perky? Thankfully, Derek wandered past and saved me from further conversation as Geri scooted over to him, eyes bright.
"Derek! Have you got a moment to discuss my idea for a new class? Lots of people'll be making New Year's resolutions, so I thought we could do something on a 'new year, new you' theme."
"Excellent, excellent..."
They disappeared around the corner, and I veered in the opposite direction, even though it meant walking past Arthur, who looked as if he wanted to talk but understood I couldn't because two visitors were sitting on the sofa next to him, engrossed in a sales brochure.
That meant I got a free pass all the way to the cleaning cupboard on the second floor.
And nearly had a heart attack when I yanked the door open.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Will looked a little rough around the edges, far from his usual smooth self as he sat on an upturned bucket.
"Waiting for you."
"But how...? Your car isn't outside."
"Another warning light came on, so I had to take it to the garage. I borrowed RJ's."
"Oh."
"Oh? That's all you've got to say? I gave you time to cool off after Friday, but you can't keep avoiding me."
"I'm sorry." I bit my lip, stuck for what to say next. "Did you come this whole way just to say that?"
He sighed, long and drawn out. "No, I had a meeting with Lloyd Weston."
"How did it go?"
"Could have been better. The man's lost his daughter, and he's sick too. Coughing and spluttering all over the place. I tried not to touch anything, but it made me want to drink a bottle of that alcohol hand sanitiser just in case."
"I don't suppose he's going to have a great Christmas."
"No, I don't suppose he is. And when I asked a few questions about Arthur, he wanted to know why I was looking into a twelve-year-old suicide rather than his beloved daughter's murder."
"What did you tell him?"
"That two deaths in the same building was unusual, so I had to consider the possibility of a connection."
"Did he believe that?"
"He just huffed and reminded me I was here because of Helene."
"If only Arthur wasn't so stubborn."
Will hooked one arm around the backs of my legs and pulled me closer. "Reminds me of somebody else I know."
I looked down as he smiled up at me, his face level with... No, I shouldn't even be thinking about that. Not that I'd ever experienced that pleasure, but I'd read about it. And with Will touching me, my brain went all frazzled again.
"I need to get to work."
"And I need to visit a potential new client. But I'll be back later to pick you up. Is Shannon still offering dinner?"
I nodded.
"Stay safe."
Then he was gone, and I sank onto the bucket in his place, legs shaking. I'd become so much more fragile since I left Syria. Back then, the need to survive had overridden everything, but now I had time to think and analyse, and the more I thought, the more confused I got about everything.
Simple answer: don't think.
Clean. I needed to clean.
By the time I heard a car pull up outside in the quiet of the night, Daylesford Hall was sparkling. I'd even polished the bannisters. And whatever car Will was driving, it didn't purr quietly like the BMW. Low, black, and mean-looking, it certainly wasn't a family hatchback.
"What is it?" I asked as he climbed out to open the door for me.
"A Porsche 911. RJ likes his toys."
I could see that. It felt like climbing into a spaceship, if a spaceship were done out in tasteful leather and chrome. I breathed deeply. The car reeked of money.
"Still got that new-car smell," Will said. "He's only had it a couple of weeks."
"And he doesn't mind you driving it?"
"RJ doesn't get precious about things like that. But if I touched one of his computers, he'd chop my fingers off."
"Thanks for the warning. If I ever meet him, I mean."
"You'll meet him tomorrow. I need to travel to Nottingham to speak to Celia Marr, so he'll be picking you up in the evening."
"Honestly, there's no need for that. I can catch the bus."
"You can, but you won't be."
Now the stench of testosterone mixed with the pungent aroma of the leather, and in the confined space, Will's determined presence threatened to overwhelm me. At least we'd be home soon. Shannon could help to balance things out a bit.
Except... "What are all those lights ahead?"
We'd rounded a bend on one of the narrow country lanes that led between Daylesford Hall and Enderby village proper, and stationary cars stretched ahead as far as the eye could see.
"No idea. Does it often back up here?"
"I've never seen a traffic jam in the whole time I've worked for Weston Corp, unless you count the occasions when the bus got stuck behind a tractor."
"Well, it's not going anywhere."
And neither were we, because now more cars had driven up behind us, so we couldn't reverse either. I leaned to the side, trying to see around the next bend, but it didn't help.
"Now what?" I asked, hating the hint of panic that crept into my voice. "I need to get home!"
"What's the hurry?"
"Uh... Shannon's cooking dinner. It might burn."
He patted my phone in the pocket of my jeans. "Then call her. If you know how," he added under his breath.
I deserved that.
"I'm sorry," I said, fumbling with the phone. It fell into the footwell and skittered away under my feet. "I just never know what to say to you."
"So saying nothing is better?"
I shrugged.
"I don't need War and fucking Peace, Rania." He leaned back and closed his eyes. "Shit. I didn't mean to say that. I can be an insensitive bastard at times, but I'd never intentionally hurt you."
"I know that."
"Well, that's two of us who don't know what to say."
The silence was more painful than talking. So I tried.
"What you said about liking me and taking me out for dinner... I understand what you want, and I can't."
"What do I want?"
Oh, hell, did he seriously want me to put it into words? He cupped my chin, his fingertips hot against my skin, and turned my head to face him.
"What do I want, Rania?"
That gentle pressure remained, and he ran his thumb over my bottom lip, making me shiver. Beads of sweat popped out on my spine as my body responded with a weird mix of fear and anticipation.
"You want me to go out on a date with you. Kiss you. More..."
"More?"
"Sex," I whispered.
"And is that so awful?"
"I'm damaged goods."
"I'm not exactly perfect myself."
"Really? Because you look pretty damn faultless from where I'm sitting."
I screwed my eyes shut—as if that would somehow erase my words, the start of an admission I didn't want to let out because the consequences made me shudder—but not before Will had hit me with that grin again.
"Nice to hear you say that." His words vibrated through my chest with a heavy purr. "But you're mistaken. I'm just as screwed up as anyone else. I grew up in boarding school because my parents were too busy to look after me, when I was eighteen they disowned me because I joined the police instead of following in my father's footsteps and going to law school, then at twenty-four I got fired from the police for throwing a man who liked to beat up his girlfriend down the stairs. Now, in a good month, I make enough to pay the rent."
"I'm sorry."
"There's no reason for you to apologise. So you see, I may have the public school accent and drive a car that's a relic from my past and live in a decent house—which RJ owns, by the way, not me—but I've messed up more times than I care to think about. For the last two years, I've been clinging to the hope that my business would take off, and it hasn't. I'm so damn tired, Rania. And for the first time since my ex-fiancée ditched me, I've met a girl I want more than a meaningless fuck with, and I don't want to let her go."
"I still don't have a clue what to say."
"Then don't say anything. But please, give me a chance. I'll mess up, I always do, but I'll try to make it right in every way possible."
"You barely know me."
"Then let me get to know you."
His voice took on an edge of desperation, and after what he'd told me, I owed it to him to let him into my past. Not all the way in—that was a dark path and one I'd walk alone—but enough for him to understand why I couldn't be the girl he dreamed of.
"I didn't want to leave Syria. It was—still is—my birthplace, my home, and a country that gave me so many good memories growing up. But the night I almost died there, I knew it was time to go."
A police car drove past on the wrong side of the road, blue lights flashing, which kind of explained the traffic jam. But I didn't stop talking. If I didn't tell Will this stuff now, I probably never would.
"I was nineteen. My parents were dead and the whole of society had collapsed, so I had to fend for myself. Do you know how many jobs there are in Aleppo now, especially for women? None. So I fought, because if I fought, I got fed, even though both sides were as bad as each other."
Will reached over and gripped my nearest hand in both of his. "Rania, if you don't want to—"
I shook my head, cutting him off. "I'm not proud of what I did. But watching a black soul leave a man's body... It rises up then scatters like the wind snatched it away, even on a still day. And then some of the spirits leave with it, but they just fade away. Disappear like a grain of sand in the desert. But every time I freed a handful, the ones left behind yelled even louder for me to help them too."
I could still hear them now. The terrible wailing. Pleading, cajoling, threatening...
"And I still stayed. Partly because I didn't know anything else and partly because I was scared that wherever I ended up would be just as bad. Then the building I was sleeping in one night got bombed, and I nearly died in the fire. Everything left that could burn, did burn, and the doorways collapsed, and people were screaming, and I couldn't get out—"
Or breathe. I couldn't breathe then, and I couldn't breathe now. Memories of the smoke swirling around as I stumbled through a ruined building lit only by flames made me choke until Will wrapped an arm around my shoulders and bundled me closer.
"But you did get out, and now you're here. I won't let anything bad happen to you, I promise."
He twirled my hair around his fingers, an oddly soothing sensation, and it reminded me of the way my mother had stroked my head as she cuddled me on her lap when I was little. I leaned into his touch as I continued, even though what happened afterwards would probably disgust him.
"Yes, I did get out. And that night I took off for the border. Mostly on foot, sometimes in trucks if I could hitch a lift. But staying in that part of the world wasn't an option. So much death." I shuddered. "I decided to go to Europe, but I needed money for that. So I sold the only thing I had left."
"Yourself," Will whispered.
I nodded, unable to speak for a few seconds, but he didn't let me go. If anything, his grip got tighter.
"Sometimes, I wish I'd died in Syria." Often, in fact. "So you see, for me, sex isn't a pleasurable thing. It's something to endure, and it hurts. And the rest of the stuff? I have no idea. Men didn't kiss me. They just took what they wanted and threw some euros down afterwards."
Will didn't look as surprised as I thought he would, or as horrified, but his voice still cracked when he spoke.
"I'm not giving up on you, Rania. You've seen the ugliest parts of human nature, but you're still beautiful. And I want to take you on a date."
"You do?"
"Yes, I do. I want you to put on a pretty dress and smile and laugh and eat those kibbeh things you like. And then I want you to fall asleep in my arms because even if we don't do more than that, you've got under my skin and I never want you to leave."
Dammit, the tears were coming again. Tears for the life I'd lost and the people I'd never see again, but also happy tears because Will hadn't run screaming into the night when he found out what I'd done.
"I think I'd like that too," I told him.
We must have sat there for another ten minutes, not saying anything, just living in the present and thinking about our pasts and our future. Together. Our future together.
But then the people in the cars around us began to get tetchy, and slamming doors and raised voices brought us back to reality.
"What do you think is going on?" I asked.
"No idea. I'll call RJ."
"How will that help?"
"RJ has ways of finding out everything."
Will used the Bluetooth system in the car so I could hear the whole conversation. RJ picked up after two rings.
"Tell me you haven't crashed my car."
"That'd be hard to do since we haven't moved in the last twenty minutes. I was hoping you could shed some light on that."
"We? Are you with that girl who's made you go all mushy?"
Will smiled. "I am, and she can hear every word you're saying. Rania, say hello to RJ."
"Hi."
"Rania, my friend has told me so much about you. Apparently, you shine with the light of a thousand suns and radiate the beauty of a field of unicorns."
"Shut up, asshole," Will growled at him.
RJ chuckled in response. "Where's this traffic jam?"
Will described our location while I mused over this evening's events. If Will was serious, I'd have another person in my life. Somebody living to talk to other than Shannon. Weird, but I kind of liked the idea.
RJ came back two minutes later. "Okay, ahead of you is a motorway bridge, and there's a dude standing on the edge threatening to jump. The motorway's closed too, and that's backed up for miles."
"Any indication of when it'll clear? Are you listening to the police scanner?"
"Nope. Some morbid freak's streaming it live on Facebook. Oh, hold on... The dude's climbing back over the railing. You should be good to go in a few minutes."
"Thanks, buddy."
"Are you coming home tonight?"
Will paused, and despite what I'd said about wanting to fall asleep in his arms, the automatic stiffening of my spine told me I wasn't ready.
And he must have realised that.
"Yeah, but not until later. I'll eat dinner with Rania and her friend first."
"I won't wait up."
When RJ ended the call, I reached my left hand up to squeeze Will's, still resting as it was on my shoulder.
"Thank you."
"I mean it, beautiful. I'm in this for the long haul. We'll do whatever you feel comfortable with, but walking away and never seeing you again isn't an option for me." He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. "So you'd better work out how to reply to a text message."
"Okay."
"I'm serious. Even if you only write a couple of words. Because if I get twenty-four hours of radio silence again, you'd better believe I'm coming to find you."
I did believe it, and the thought made me warm inside.