Saving Nathaniel (12 page)

After handling them,
she felt a very urgent need to wash her hands.

'Oh, Nat,
what have you done? You silly, silly man?'

'
Where shall I drop you?
'

It was the first time Nat and Irana had spoken since leaving the house. She gave him an address in town. When he pulled up outside the indicated green door, she turned to him.
'Thank you for a pleasant time.
Nathaniel
.'

Nat sniffed. 'Aye,' he muttered.

'
Shall I see you again, soon perhaps?
'

He gave her a false, insi
ncere smile and shook his head.
'
Thanks, but I don
'
t think so, sorry.' He took his wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket and opened it. 'It was fun while it lasted. Another time, maybe, but not yet.
'

She looked at
the open wallet, and then at him. Before he could react, she dealt him a full open-handed slap across the side of his face.
'
You bastard,
'
she yelled.
'
I am not a whore.
'

Rocked back in his seat by the blow, his skin burned where her hand had connected, the sting making his eyes water. 'I never said you were,' he protested. He had intended to offer her one of his cards, as a courtesy, but before he could, she had already let herself out of the car and was marching towards the green door. He waited as she let herself in and slammed the door behind her, before reaching across the passenger seat to pull the door closed.

'Bloody women. Who needs 'em?' he muttered, examining his face in the rear view mirror. He rubbed the sore spot on his face; it had been quite a belt and the skin would no doubt colour.

He
took his time returning to Struan after dropping off his guest. He sat outside in the car for a few moments, contemplating the hand shaped print on his face. He had imagined it developing like a Polaroid print, but it was nowhere near as bad as he expected. If he was lucky, Megan might not even notice.

Ah
, crap, Megan
.

The look of abject horror on her face when she clapped her eyes on his be-robed guest brought on him an uncommon stab of guilt. He had put her in an awkward position and no doubt embarrassed her, and that wasn't in her job description. If he got in first with an explanation, he might be able to forestall her questioning him.

He
let himself into the kitchen. She wasn't there. He drew himself a glass of water, took a large draught from it, and went in search of her. He found her in the laundry, sitting on a low stool with her legs crossed over, sewing a button onto one of his shirts. She was concentrating hard, the tip of her tongue poking out between her lips.

He
knocked sharply on the doorjamb, attracting her attention. She looked up and flashed him a brief smile of acknowledgement, albeit not a particularly welcoming one. He leaned against the doorframe and took a sip from the glass of water.
'
You really don
'
t need to do that,
'
he said.
'
I usually just buy a new shirt.
'

'
Just because you have money doesn't mean you have to waste it,
'
she said, and carried on sewing.

He
sniffed and cleared his throat. It felt dry and scratchy.
'
I, erm, feel like I owe you an explanation for this morning, for...whatshername...Irene.
'

'Irana,' she said, not looking up.

'What?'

'Her name was Irana.'

'Was it? Hmm. You might be right.'

'And you don't need to say anything about her because I don't want to know.
What you do in your own home is your business, and absolutely nothing to do with me.'

'Well I want to tell you anyway.'

She sighed unenthusiastically. 'Okay, if you must.'

He took another gulp of water to wet his dry throat and began
.
'
I went out last night with a mate, Phil McNeil. We've been friends for ever, but I hadn
'
t seen him for ages. She was a friend of a friend of his and he introduced us. We got to chatting and had quite a bit to drink
…
and coming here for some peace and quiet seemed like a good idea at the time.
I'm not sure, but
I think it was her idea. Anyway one thing led to another and...well, in a nutshell, there you have it.' He sipped at the water again. 'I didn
'
t know her from Adam and I won
'
t be seeing her again.
'
He rubbed his face where Irana had slapped him.

Megan
, who had listened to the whole tale in silence, snipped the end of the thread and folded the shirt into her lap. She looked directly at him, sighed and shrugged.
'
Why are you telling me this?
'

He rubbed his temples with his fingertips, feeling the beginnings of an unpleasant headache.
'
I don
'
t know,' he said. 'I just thought you ought to know.
'

'
And what is it you want me to say?
'

'
I don
'
t know.'

'How about
, 'It's okay, you made a silly mistake and it might be for the best if you didn't do it again'?
'

He smiled dryly. 'That might do for a start.'

She
got to her feet and stood in front of him. Still clutching the shirt, she looked up at him with an expression he couldn't quite determine and his inner voice warned him he wasn't going to like what she had to say. He had already learned to his cost how ruthless her tongue could be when she had a mind to use it.

She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes.
'Let me get the story straight in my head,' she said. 'You picked up a strange woman in a bar
and she persuaded you to
drive her here,
in the middle of the coldest night of the year, on a pitch black icy road, whilst you were off your head with drink.
'

A statement of the facts or a question? He wasn't sure. He pursed his lips. 'Aye, I suppose I did.'

'
Did you have
any
idea of the risks you were taking?
That road is lethal at the best of times.
You could have been killed! Worse than that, you could have killed some other poor innocent bugger!'

'But I didn't.'

'Only because you must have some kind of guardian angel who does night duty. And what about the other danger?
'

'What other?'

'With her! The woman! Jesus Christ, Nat, she might have cut your throat in your sleep. She could have stolen your wallet and ransacked the place.'

'Now you're being ridiculous!'

'Am I? These things happen. Read the papers!'

'Not in a backwoods place like this they don't.'

'
And you were lucky you weren
'
t caught by the cops. If you had, you would have lost your licence for sure. You might even have gone to prison…and then where would you be?'

'In prison.'

His flippancy only served to inflame her further.
'Don't get smart with me, matey! This has to be, by far, the most incredibly idiotic thing you've done…as far as I know, although I have no doubt you can put me right on that score?'

'
No…no, you might well be right. I'm sor…'

She jabbed the air in front of his face with her forefinger. 'Don't even say it, Nat.
Do not!
You're not sorry, not at all! You didn't consider the consequences for a second, did you? You'd have no licence, no job, no money, no house - you could have lost everything all for the sake of a quick drunken grope!'

He shook his now throbbing head and scowled at her. 'I should have known better than to say anything to you. I should have known you would react like this; blowing it up out of all proportion.'

'Well, excuse me,
but I told you not to say anything. You insisted on confessing it all to me because you thought it would make it go away and you could forget about it...'

'I did not...'

'And don't forget, you are the one who put yourself and others in danger. How else do you expect me to react? Do you want me to just ignore it and pretend it never happened?

'Maybe I do
.'

'
Well, I won't.'

'
That much is for damned sure.'

She cocked her head to one side, ignoring his acrimony. 'Was it worth it?' she asked.

'Was what worth what?'

'
The sex? Was she any good? More to the point, were you?'

Nat felt himself redden at her brazen audacity. 'Um...I don't really know, I can't really remember. It's all a bit of a haze.'

'And I don't suppose you used anything,' she said, knowing full well he hadn't. He gave her a blank look. 'Did you use protection? A condom?'

H
e flustered like an embarrassed teenager. 'Er...no…no, I didn't.' He took a long drink from the glass.

'Let's hope you didn't get her pregnant then.' Her tone softened and she looked at him with earnest concern. 'It's not worth the risk, Nat. There's a better way to go about it.'

'
About what?'

'
Finding a decent woman to have a relationship with, to settle down with and have a family with. Picking them up in bars and having casual sex is not the way.'

His face clouded with irritation at her presumption. 'That's not what I was doing,' he said with a scowl. 'I didn't set out to end up with her, but I did. I'm sorry she wasn't up to your impeccably high standards. It was a mistake, okay? I won't be seeing her again, but it wouldn't be any of your business whether I did or not. Would it?' He rolled away from the door and stormed into the kitchen.

At least I do have standards, she thought to his retreating back.

She stayed in the laundry. There was more work to do. She took the bed linen from the washer and put it in the dryer. A few minutes later, a contrite looking Nat reappeared in the doorway.

'
I'm sorry, Meg. I've done it again, haven't I, blowing up at you for no good reason?'

'Yes, you have.'

'
I know you only ever have my best interests at heart and I appreciate it, I really do. But believe me, I had no interest in the woman apart from…' He hesitated. '…apart from the sex, and even that was a spur of the moment thing.'

'
And I just can't seem to help but interfere,' she said.

He
dropped down onto the stool and sipped at the water. 'Aye, it's a bad habit you're cultivating there. You might want to nip it in the bud before it gets out of hand.'

She
leaned against the dryer, feeling it vibrate against her back. 'What a pair we make.' She looked down at her feet. 'I know you think it's too late for you, Nat,' she said, 'and that you think you're too old to find someone again, but the truth is, you're
never
too old and there
is
someone out there for you. Someone who's good and decent, who'll love you back and give you what you need. You just have to get out to the right places and find her, not try and pick her up in some dubious hangout. A good-looking chap like yourself should have no trouble, they'll come to you like flies round a jam jar.'

He gave a small, sardonic snicker. 'No,' he said. 'It is too late and I am too old. I've already tried to play
happy families once
, and failed miserably. I'm not willing to jeopardise someone else's happiness just to satisfy my own.'

There was nothing left to say, the discussion had reached a stalemate.

Nat stood, picked up his glass and wandered
across the hall to his study. He closed the door firmly, telling Megan, 'I don't want to talk any more.'

Alone, he lowered himself into his chair and closed his eyes. He swallowed the last of the water. His throat hurt and the headache was on him with a vengeance.

Chapter 12

Nat
'
s headache didn't get any better. In fact, it got very much worse. By evening, he felt decidedly poorly. His head was pounding and he felt feverish. In the kitchen drawer he found painkillers, swallowed them down with a large glass of water and went to bed.

When Megan arrived next day, she found the back door locked against her and had to use her keys to let herself in. The usual morning smells of brewing coffee and burnt toast were conspicuous by their absence. Nat, it seemed, was not yet up.