What Happens In Cornwall... Page 12

  ‘See you again I hope, Sam.’

  Sam watched her disappear into the dusk and found herself wondering whether this meant that Ann had already had her cover blown, in spite of her disguise. Karen was in the newspaper business after all. It was beginning to look as though somebody had indeed talked.

  Of course, she thought to herself as she walked home, the leak certainly hadn’t come from her or from Virginia. As for her colleagues in the Archaeology department, they were deliberately being kept in the dark until the dig commenced. All sorts of people on the island would know Ann’s identity. In spite of what Ann had said, any one of them might have mentioned it to the press. Once again, she felt sympathy for Ann in her quest for anonymity. It couldn’t be easy being famous.

  As she reached home, she felt a first drop of rain on her arm. Ah, well, she thought to herself, it is England after all.

  Chapter 20

  Next evening, Samantha went home late. The weather was terrible and news that the visit to Rock Island had been put off by a day had not come as a surprise to anybody. Freddie Griffiths had sent an e-mail to Virginia and Sam the previous night, announcing that the delay was due to the rough seas around the island. However, in the course of the day he sent another, telling them that the sea conditions were such that it might be two or three days before they could get out there. This was an annoyance, particularly to Becky who was desperate to know who was out there on the island and still dreaming wistfully of George Clooney.

  It rained all day and, if anything, it was lashing down even more heavily as the afternoon drew to a close. Sam peered out of the windows that were streaming with water. The view down the hill and over the roofs of the city to the magnificent cathedral was barely discernible, and it was dark enough to warrant turning on the lights. It was very blustery and the glass shook with the gusts. Part of her felt relieved that she didn’t have to set off in a small boat in these conditions. She even deemed it too wet for a run. A quiet night in looked like her best option. Since Neil’s departure, she had spent time packing up his things into boxes and stacking them in the little bedroom, ready for him to take away. It would be good to finish that task and then get shot of everything that reminded her of him.

  She was the last one in the lab, and quite possibly the last person in the building, so when the clock showed six o’clock, she collected her things and headed for the door. It opened just as she reached it.

  ‘Oh, hello. I was looking for Virginia.’ Sam was surprised to see James Courtney, and even more surprised at how pleased she was to see him, in spite of her doubts the night before.

  ‘Hello Dr Courtney. It’s good to see you again.’ And it was, whatever his marital status might be. He dropped his eyes. As usual he was looking a bit gloomy, just not very comfortable, a scowl on his face.

  ‘Oh, yes, I saw you last night. At the Wobbly Wheel.’

  ‘Yes, I saw you too. Out on the town with your mates?’ Sam did her best to keep her tone neutral. He still refused to meet her eye.

  ‘Something like that.’ He hesitated. ‘They’re guys I used to work with. We meet up from time to time.’

  ‘Well, I hope you enjoyed yourselves.’ One thing was for sure. Sam was certain the other members of the group of men weren’t involved with the university. Where, she wondered, did he know them from? But she resisted the temptation to probe. He finally managed to look at her. The frown had gone and he looked almost normal.

  ‘Yes, thank you. You’re working late, aren’t you?’ He was doing his best to sound more communicative now. ‘Isn’t there some sort of party going on in the Great Hall tonight? Shouldn’t you be dancing the night away?’

  She gave him a little smile and shook her head. ‘Not for me. I’m not a great one for socialising. At least, not at the moment.’ He was tactful enough not to comment. ‘I’m afraid you’ve missed Virginia. She left an hour or so ago. In fact, everybody’s gone and I’m the last one. I’ve been sitting here, waiting for the rain to stop, but it just seems to be getting harder and harder. Is there anything I can help you with?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, thanks. It’s just admin really. I’m trying to work out where, what and who I’m supposed to be teaching when term starts in the autumn. I’ll catch her some other time.’ He turned back towards the door, then paused as a thought struck him. ‘I got drenched just running over to here from the car.’ He took a critical look at her denim jacket. ‘You’re going to get soaked. Do you live nearby? I can give you a lift if you like.’

  His shoulders were wet and the arms of his fleece running with drops of water. She glanced out of the window once more. The wind was hosing the glass with water so she decided to take him up on his offer. She gave him a smile. ‘I don’t really live far away, but far enough for me to get wet through in this sort of weather. If you’re sure it’s no trouble, a lift would be great. Thanks very much indeed.’

  She flicked off the light switches and followed him outside into the corridor. They reached the entrance hall and peered through the glass doors at the torrential downpour outside. Luckily his car was only a hundred yards or so from the door and they made a run for it. Even so, her hair, her jacket and her feet were wet by the time they got there. Tearing the door open, she threw herself into the passenger seat, almost deafened by the roar of the rain on the roof.

  He leapt into the driving seat and slammed the door. He shook his head like a dog and then turned towards her. ‘Unless you’re in a terrible hurry, I think we might do well to wait a few minutes until this particular shower passes. Look at the road. It’s like a river.’ He wasn’t exaggerating. She sat back and watched waves of water pour down the hill. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t a soul to be seen. It felt a bit strange to be sitting in a car with a man about whom she knew virtually nothing. She was clearing her throat to attempt some conversation when he beat her to it.

  ‘Virginia was telling me you might have got an intro to Rock Island. I’ve been reading up on the old abbey church there. It sounds fascinating.’

  Sam reflected that word was getting about pretty quickly. She wondered how to respond but, ultimately, the fact that he had mentioned Virginia’s name reassured her. ‘Yes, we were supposed to go there today, but the bad weather’s delaying things.’

  He nodded. ‘I seem to remember it’s a good few hundred metres from the shore. I imagine it could be quite rough out there at the moment.’ He paused for a while before changing topic. ‘So what about you? What’s your PhD on?’

  She told him a bit about her research and he sounded impressed. She found him surprisingly easy to talk to. He was a very good listener, mainly because he did very little talking. He gave her a brief outline of his own research and they managed to find more than enough to talk about, even though it was a good quarter of an hour before the rain began to diminish sufficiently for him to risk setting off.

  In the course of their conversation, she surreptitiously studied him. When he spoke about his work, his face became more animated and shed his normal aggressive air. As he did so, she confirmed just how very good-looking he was and those amazing eyes kept drawing her to him. She realised with some surprise that, in spite of her decision to ignore men for a while, until she managed to shake off the bitter memories of Neil, and in spite of the fact that she had seen him with the other woman, she would actually be very happy to sit here in the rain alongside him and chat for hours and hours. When he started the engine and decided to give driving a go, she felt almost disappointed.

  He pulled the gear lever into Drive and crept down the hill, picking his way through some huge puddles and around sections where the road was completely flooded. Unsurprisingly, they were just about the only car on the road. When they got to her street, she told him to stop at the corner.

  ‘It’s a dead end and there’s no turning circle. I’m fine. I can easily run home from here.’ She glanced out of the window. He had stopped at the side of the road, well out of the way of any traffic that might come along. O
n an impulse, she turned towards him. ‘Can I offer you a glass of wine or a cup of tea to say thank you?’

  He glanced at his watch before answering rather formally. ‘A cup of tea would be lovely. Thank you.’ They climbed out of the car and made a run for it. They got wet, but not too terribly wet. When they got into her flat, Sam breathed a sigh of relief that she had washed the dishes and tidied up that morning before work. All in all, it was quite respectable. That, at least, was one great advantage of Neil’s departure. It was a whole lot easier to keep the place looking smart.

  She left James Courtney in the living room, drying his face with a handkerchief. After taking off her damp jacket and hanging it up, she went into the little kitchen to make the tea. She realised as she waited for the kettle to boil that her glasses were covered in raindrops, so she picked up a towel, dried them and then ran it over her hair. Unsurprisingly, it came away damp. By the time she emerged with the tea, she found him sitting on the arm of the sofa, flicking through British Archaeology Magazine, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose. He had removed his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. He was in his shirtsleeves and Sam was impressed at her first sight of his muscular arms, covered in light brown hair. He looked up with a real smile.

  ‘This is very impressive. All I’ve got at my place are back copies of Boards magazine.’ In response to her enquiring look, he explained. ‘I’ve got a thing about windsurfing.’ He took off his glasses, tucked them into his breast pocket and glanced out of the window, where the rain had once more started bucketing down. ‘Not that I often went out in weather as bad as this.’

  She noted his use of the past tense, but refrained from commenting. She picked up his fleece and put it on a coat hanger. The outside was wet, but the inside was warm from his body and she felt a rather naughty shiver of attraction. Hastily she hung it from the bathroom doorframe and returned to the table. She passed him a mug of tea and chatted a little, but she could sense his discomfort. After a few minutes, he glanced across at her.

  ‘All healed up after the incident with the rose bush?’

  Sam raised her arm and showed it to him. ‘Good as new. Thanks to you, doctor.’

  He reached out his free hand and ran his fingers over the faint red mark on her skin. His eyes remained trained on her arm and she felt his touch on her skin for some seconds before he released her and returned his attention to her face once more. ‘That’s good. That’s good.’ The hypnotic blue eyes were still trained on her, but this time she managed to hold his gaze. She read the unhappiness behind them and reflected that she was no stranger to emotional upset herself. Maybe they could help each other.

  She couldn’t make him out. Either he was seriously angry about something or, more worryingly, deliberately messing with her. Maybe, she even wondered, he was schizophrenic or suffering from some other mental condition. She had never met a man like him before and yet, in spite of his idiosyncrasies, she couldn’t find it in her to be annoyed by his behaviour.

  It soon became clear that he didn’t like revealing anything about himself. As they talked, he didn’t go into any detail about his previous occupation and why he had waited so long to do his PhD, but she didn’t press him about it. He no doubt had his reasons. Instead, to her surprise, she found that she was opening up to him. After a while, she found herself talking to him about her Olympic aspirations, the crushing disappointment of her accident and her hopes for the future. He appeared very impressed and became more animated.

  ‘Wow, I’ve never met an Olympic athlete before.’ She shook her head, but he continued. ‘I’m sure you would’ve been one, if you hadn’t broken your leg.’ He caught her eye and she read sympathy and empathy in the pale blue eyes. ‘I know a thing or two about leg injuries. That must have hurt, and I’m not just talking about the break.’

  ‘I cried my eyes out for a whole week.’ She hadn’t told many people this. ‘I thought the end of the world had come. All those years of sacrifice; just training, training, training, all for nothing. I’d given up so much, and for what? Then, one day, I got talking to a lovely lady called Dawn who was in the next bed to me in the orthopaedic ward. She wasn’t very old, but she’d got some horrible disease where her bones were getting more and more brittle. Basically, before long, she would be confined to a bed for the rest of her life. And yet, she was so cheery and so kind and supportive to me.’ She kept her eyes down, unwilling to look up at James Courtney, conscious of the break in her voice as she continued. ‘Somehow, it put it all into perspective. There I was, young, fit and going to get better in a few months, and all I could do was cry. I dried my eyes and haven’t cried since; at least not about my athletic career.’ She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘And these aren’t tears for me. They’re for Dawn. She died a couple of years ago, cheerful to the end.’

  He said nothing. She was grateful to him for that. She pulled out a tissue and blew her nose, dried her eyes and set about asking herself just how on earth she had started talking about such personal stuff to a man she hardly knew. Then, to her surprise she heard his chair pushed back. She looked up and saw him making for the door. His fists were clenched, his knuckles white, and he looked very uncomfortable. He stopped briefly as he grasped the door handle.

  ‘Sorry, I have to go.’ The same old anger was back in his eyes. He cleared his throat. ‘It’s been really good talking to you, Samantha.’ It was the first time he had used her name.

  ‘My friends call me Sam.’

  ‘It’s been really good talking to you, Sam. And I’m James.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘I’m sorry, but I really have to make a move. Clio will be starting to think I’m not coming home. Goodbye, Sam.’

  ‘Goodbye, James.’

  She watched as he limped off down the stairs. As the front door closed behind him and she went back into her flat, three thoughts were uppermost in her mind. What was troubling him so much, why on earth had she told him all that personal stuff, and, most importantly, what was his relationship to Clio?

  Chapter 21

  Next morning, as she walked up through the campus to the Archaeology department, Samantha ran into Neil. It was as she was going past the Physics block that he emerged from a side door and almost bumped into her.

  ‘Hi, Sam.’ He sounded as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Her heart sank. She stopped and dropped her eyes.

  ‘Hello, Neil.’ She really didn’t know what else to say. He appeared equally tongue-tied. After a long pause, he was the first to speak.

  ‘I’ve been meaning to come and talk to you. Time for a coffee?’

  She shook her head firmly. ‘Sorry, Neil. I’ve got to get to work.’

  He nodded in acceptance of her excuse. ‘Then, how about a quick chat first? There are a few things to sort out.’ He motioned towards a huge old tree at the side of the path.

  Her eyes followed his hand and she spotted a bench. ‘Five minutes, then.’ She walked over and sat down. It was still a bit damp after all the rain and Sam was glad she had opted for jeans rather than shorts that morning. He followed and took a seat beside her. She slipped off her shoulder bag and placed it between them. ‘So how’ve you been, Neil?’

  He took a deep breath. ‘I’ve been fine. It’s all been a bit strange, but I’m fine. What about you?’

  ‘Yes, I’m OK now, too. So, what is there to discuss?’

  He looked up. ‘My stuff. I’ll come round later today to pick it up, if that’s OK with you. Once I’ve got everything, I’ll leave my key in the flat. And the other thing is, erm, money. We each paid half the deposit on the flat. I wondered if I could get my half back.’

  ‘Of course. Have you found somewhere to stay?’ She had been doing her sums the previous day and had worked out that she could just about afford to stay on in the flat on her own. She had been wondering where he would end up.

  ‘Yes, I have, as it happens.’

  She gave him a quizzical look. ‘So, have you found a place on your own, o
r are you sharing?’ She pulled out her cheque book, rested it on her purse and started writing.

  He shook his head, his expression now almost embarrassed. ‘I’m moving in with somebody.’ Seeing the expression on her face, he explained. ‘It’s a girl. I’m moving in with her.’

  Samantha sat bolt upright in amazement. ‘Moving in with her? You mean as a flatmate, or is it more than that?’

  He was still looking embarrassed, but there was something else there too; maybe a look of triumph. ‘More than that. We’re going to be living together.’

  She couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Neil, you’ve only just moved out and you’ve already got another girl?’ She shook her head again, in disbelief. ‘Where did she come from?’

  He was definitely looking embarrassed now. ‘Erm, I’ve known her for some time. She works in the physics lab with me.’ He took the cheque from her unresisting hand.

  She stuffed the cheque book back into her bag, still trying to make sense of what he had told her. The more she thought about it, the more suspicious it sounded. He must have spotted something in her expression so he jumped to his feet. ‘Well. I’ll be off then. Bye, Sam.’

  He shot off like a startled rabbit just as the penny dropped. He and this other girl must have been hooking up long before the end of his relationship with Sam. Either that or the girl was insane. Who the hell moves in with a guy after only a week? She rammed her purse back into her bag with a vehemence that tore her knuckles against the zip.

  ‘The miserable little bastard!’ She was so livid she heard herself say it out loud. A quick glance round revealed that there was nobody close enough to hear, apart from a grey squirrel intent upon rummaging through a waste bin. She raised her hand to her mouth and sucked her bleeding knuckles. She grunted to herself in fury as she set off up the hill to work.

  By the time she got to the archaeology lab she was still angry, but slightly more composed. Or so she thought. As she walked in, Becky raised her eyes and Sam saw her expression immediately change to one of concern.