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  ‘I can tell Simon at least one thing about you hasn’t changed,’ she said, her voice full of laughter.

  Greg looked quizzically at her. ‘What do you mean?’

  They both stood up slowly and Amberley put one arm conspiratorially round his shoulder. He could feel she was trying to stifle further laughter from coming to the surface.

  ‘Well, Greg, you don’t seem to have lost your talent for being accident prone.’

  Greg put his hands over his face in mock horror. ‘It looks like my past has caught up with me.’

  The kettle boiled and Amberley made drinks while Greg put the remaining few items away.

  ‘Let’s go and sit in the garden. I want to make the most of this warm weather. I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to all these years.’

  Just as they got settled in the garden, her mobile phone rang. Greg watched as she slowly picked it up. Her face was a mix of emotions, anger being the most prominent. She turned the phone off. Gripping it tightly, she took it into the house. On her return, she smiled but it was a tense smile.

  ‘Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ he asked her, concern sounding in his voice.

  ‘It’s nothing. I keep getting calls from a promotional agency. I really should block the number.’

  He watched her as she nervously twisted a piece of hair around her finger, her face deep in thought.

  Greg touched her hand lightly and looked into her eyes. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’

  Amberley shivered, not so much from Steve’s attempt to contact her but the way Greg’s fingers brushed against her skin. It raised goose flesh on her skin; she could almost feel electricity arcing between them.

  She shook her errant thoughts away about his fingers touching other, more delicate, parts of her body. ‘I’m fine, honestly. Just a bit tired that’s all.’

  ‘Simon said you were travelling around the world painting. When did you get back?’ she asked, changing the subject.

  Greg took a sip of his drink and placed it back on the table. ‘I’ve been in Australia for a few years. I’ve only been back a week or so.’

  ‘Sounds interesting,’ she said. ‘What were you doing?’

  He stared off into the distance for a while. ‘I was planning on relocating there permanently. We had a business planned and… well let’s just say things didn’t work out for us.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Greg.’

  He smiled and shook his head. ‘Don’t be sorry for me, Amberley, I have plans for a studio and gallery not far from here. Cornwall is my home and I’m happy to be back. Things always work out right in the end.’

  Amberley was intrigued by the ‘we’, but didn’t press him on it.

  ‘I have lots of paintings if you ever want to see them. I’ve turned mum’s double garage into a makeshift studio. If you’d like, I’ll take you on a guided tour.’

  ‘I’d like that very much, thanks.’

  ‘Anyway,’ he said taking another mouthful of his drink, ‘I can tell you more about me another time. How’s everything with you, how’s the business going?’

  ‘The business is doing really well, and keeping Simon and me busy, too busy most times!’

  It was then he noticed the silver pixie necklace that hung from her neck. He smiled, reached across and lifted the little charm up to the light.

  Amberley shivered again at his touch. His smile made her knees go weak. She shifted her feet and after long moments, Greg dropped the necklace. Neither of them uttered a word.

  ‘Do you have a pen? I’ll give you my mobile number then you can contact me when you want to come and check out the paintings.’

  ‘Hang on a sec; I’ll get my phone so I can programme it straight in.’

  Whilst she was doing this, her phone rang again; quickly she cut the call off.

  ‘You should tell them you’re not interested,’ he advised her.

  ‘That won’t work. I really don’t know what will.’ The last sentence was said almost under her breath. Greg wondered if there was more to it than she was letting on.

  He looked at his watch. ‘I told Mum I’d only be gone about thirty minutes, have you seen the time? We’ve been talking for nearly two hours, she’ll kill me if my dinner’s spoilt.’

  Amberley started to chuckle. The thought of tiny Kath sending this grown man to his room for being late was a comical scenario.

  ‘It looks as though your Mum still knows how to keep you in order. You’d better go now, along with my apologies for keeping you for so long.’

  He got up to leave, as he went to go through the gate he turned around.

  ‘Before I forget, she said if you’re up to it, you’re welcome to join us for dinner tomorrow evening.’

  Amberley smiled, she remembered Kath’s meals well. Her cooking was always tasty and filling.

  ‘That would be lovely, what time?’

  ‘Is seven okay?’

  ‘Yeah sure, I’ll look forward to it.’

  A great tiredness swept over her and she decided to have a long, hot, soak before retiring to bed. She began to think that maybe the country life might not be quite so boring now she that Greg was around. The conversation had flowed so easily between them. It was as if the years spent apart had not made any difference.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  She woke up the next morning to the sound of birds singing and sunshine streaming in through the window. Looking over at the clock, she was amazed to see it was almost ten. She couldn’t remember the last time she had lain in bed for so long. As she sat eating breakfast, her mobile phone rang. Steve’s number came up on the screen, so she cut it off once again. It was followed by at least another six calls, all of which she ignored. Finally, she put a block on it, hoping to put an end to his barrage of calls.

  She decided to do some work and checked for any emails that required a response. After replying to a couple of urgent ones, she craved fresh air. Steve had left messages on her voicemail before she had had the chance to block him. Pressing the play button, she listened.

  ‘Why don’t you answer me, baby? I miss you and I want you.’

  She moved on to the next messages each one becoming less calm, more aggressive. Until finally the last one made her skin crawl.

  ‘YOU BITCH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME? I WILL HAVE RESPECT FROM YOU. I WILL FIND YOU. AND WHEN I DO… YOU’RE DEAD!’

  She shuddered, turning off her phone. Before going for her walk, she contacted the local police.

  ‘Hello, my name’s Amberley Masterson. I believe the Metropolitan police have been in contact with you regarding a Mr Steve Jackson, my ex-partner. I would like to report that I have received several more extremely abusive phone messages from him.’

  She was silent as she listened to the officer. Picking up her pen, she made a note. ‘Yes one p.m today will be fine, I’ll see you then.’

  She had arranged for the officer to come to the cottage, she didn’t feel up to a formal setting.

  ***

  Making her way towards the beach, she could feel a gentle breeze blowing in from the sea. Although it was the beginning of the tourist season, there was very little activity, which was just the way she liked it. Taking off her socks and trainers, she rolled up her jeans and ran down to the water’s edge. It was freezing but refreshing at the same time. She looked towards the base of the rock. More sturdy steps now replaced the rickety old ones that used to go to the highest point of the cliff. Slowly she climbed to the top.

  ‘Amberley, you’re definitely out of condition old girl,’ she said to herself, as she bent forward resting her hands on her knees.

  Looking up, she saw the two boulders that Greg and she used to call their thrones. She went over to them, stroking the cold stone with reverence. Getting down on her hands and knees, she searched each one until she found what she was looking for. Finding the initials GW and AM carved on each one brought a smile to her face. She sat on her boulder and closed her eyes, allowing herself to
become immersed in her memories of happy times sitting there for hours talking with Greg.

  ***

  Greg was taking a long walk, he needed to clear his head. By instinct he had found himself up on the cliff top. He smiled when he saw Amberley sitting on one of the boulders. From where he stood, he could see her eyes were tightly closed. There was a smile on her face. Her hair was blowing softly around her shoulders. She looked beautiful: perfect. He walked slowly towards her until he was right next to the boulders.

  ‘Hello,’ he said.

  Amberley’s eyes opened slowly. She looked up to see Greg grinning at her. His lips were curved into a most delicious smile and she found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

  ‘Hi, I’ve checked to make sure this is my boulder; I’m surprised that no one has carved over our initials,’ she said, hoping he couldn’t read her thoughts.

  Greg sat down next to her fighting the urge to stroke her hair away from her face. ‘I bet these boulders could tell some interesting stories. Do you remember all the crazy secrets and dreams we used to share here? I can imagine all the lovers that have probably sat here too, kissed and declared their undying love for each other.’

  Amberley blushed and knew he was watching her intently.

  ‘We never did find the pirates’ buried treasure did we?’ she said, in an attempt to focus on other, safer, thoughts.

  They both laughed and as their laughter faded, they stared out to sea watching the waves roll gently in to the shore. Amberley realised there had never been a single moment she had been unhappy in Cornwall. She reflected on the last time they had sat there. They had been fourteen and Greg had told her he wanted to marry her. He’d said if she didn’t come back to Cornwall, he would come and find her and bring her back.

  ‘The memory that sticks out most in my mind is how we used to shout out our orders to the seagulls pretending they were our courtiers. I often used to wonder if anyone ever heard us. They would probably think we were crazy if they had done.’ He chuckled softly.

  Amberley turned to smile warmly at him. ‘They were great times. Mum and Dad used to get as excited as we did when we set off for the cottage...’

  Pain clouded her lovely face and Greg touched her arm. ‘I’m so sorry about your parents. Mum and I were devastated when we heard the news. I know I was just a baby when my Dad died, but I still feel the loss of not having him around.’

  She turned to face him and blinked her eyes rapidly to stop her tears from falling.

  ‘I hold onto the fact that while they were alive they enjoyed life and loved each other, Simon and me very much.’ She paused for a moment studying her hands, which were folded tightly in her lap. ‘When I look at Simon and Sarah together, I see the same kind of intensity in their love. I hope someday I’ll be as happy,’ she said wistfully, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

  Gregstudied her face; she looked so hurt and alone.

  ‘I’d better be getting home.’

  They both stood.

  ‘I’ll walk back with you, I have to be going too,’ she replied, glancing at her watch.

  He was surprised when she held out her hand to him. It was an automatic gesture. She had always done this when they were children. He took her hand and squeezed it gently. Amberley’s hand tingled as their skin connected. The heat from his hands was reassuring and made her feel safe.

  ‘You always said you were my Knight Protector, so would you like to escort me back to the village, kind Sir?’ she said, her voice sounding too loud after the silence.

  ‘Of course, M’lady,’ Greg replied, bowing low. Together they made their way silently back towards the village.

  ***

  On reaching the cottage, Amberley noted the waiting police car. It wasn’t until that point, that she realised Greg still held her hand. She let go almost guiltily.

  ‘What are the police doing here? Do you want me to stick around?’

  ‘No, Greg, it’s fine. I wanted some advice on home security. I had forgotten all about it,’ she lied. ‘I’d better go. I’ll see you at seven this evening okay?’

  ‘Sure, I’m looking forward to it.’

  Greg watched her go, noting there were two police officers in the car. It seemed rather excessive for security advice. He watched them go inside, shrugged his shoulders and made his way home.

  ***

  ‘I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. I went for a walk and forgot the time.’

  ‘Not a problem, Miss Masterson. I am Sergeant Howard and my colleague is PC Waters.’

  When they were all sitting down, she took a deep breath and began, ‘I take it you have heard from the Metropolitan police about my… problem?’

  ‘Indeed we have.’

  ‘I got so fed up that I’ve put a block on his number now. However, knowing him, he’ll just get another phone. He won’t give up easily.’

  ‘Would you be happy for us to take your phone for now?’

  ‘For what purpose?’ she asked frowning.

  ‘We have the facility to plug your mobile into a gadget which can print out all your text messages.’

  ‘Oh I see, well in that case you’re very welcome to take it. I will try anything to get him off my case.’

  ‘You should be able to collect it from the station within seven days. Is there any way that Mr Jackson would know where you are?’ Sergeant Howard asked.

  ‘I’m certain that I never mentioned the exact location to him, although he does know we have a property in Cornwall.’

  ‘I think we have all the information we require at present. Before we go, the constable and I will check how secure your property is.’

  After they had gone, Amberley called Simon on the landline to update him. She worked on the Hawson contract for a while and forwarded her proposals to her brother. Looking up at the clock, she saw that it was gone six. She had less than an hour to sort herself out before going to the Winters’ house for dinner.

  Rummaging in her wardrobe, she pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans and a mint green shirt. It was only a meal with friends – nothing formal. It seemed strange to be going out and not worrying about having the right designer suit on. In fact, it felt liberating. There was no time to wash her hair or have a bath, which she was hoping to do. She showered in record time and quickly attempted to run a brush through her wild locks. Before leaving, she cut some flowers for Kath from the garden, remembering how much she loved them. By the time she reached their house, she was breathless. Composing herself, she rang the doorbell and took a step backwards.

  Greg opened the door to her, his eyes wide with appreciation. He noted she was dressed casually; this style looked good on her. Her hair was flowing wildly around her shoulders. To him she looked gorgeous – female perfection.

  Amberley cleared her throat. ‘Are you going to let me in or are we eating al fresco?’

  He shook his head. ‘Um, sorry you look…’

  ‘Scruffy?’ she finished the sentence for him.

  ‘No,’ he shook his head and smiled. ‘Actually you look fabulous.’

  She laughed, feeling slightly self-conscious. The sound of her laughter felt like silk trailing over his skin.

  ‘Sorry how rude of me, please,’ he replied, stepping to one side to allow her in.

  As she walked close by him, almost touching she said, ‘thank you for the compliment,’ and looking over her shoulder at him, she added, ‘you look pretty good too…’

  He let out the breath he’d been holding and followed her in, enjoying the way her body moved as she walked. Amberley went through to the kitchen where Kath was busy preparing dinner.

  ‘Hello, dear, you look lovely. Oh, thank you for the flowers they are beautiful. Go and sit down and Greg will get you something to drink,’ said Kath.

  ‘What would you like?’ he asked her.

  ‘I’d love a dry, white wine please.’

  Amberley watched him as he poured her drink. He was wearing black jeans and a whit
e shirt and looked amazing. Again, she found herself having dangerous thoughts. Wondering what it would be like to be folded in his arm and to be kissing him passionately. He caught her staring at him and she cursed herself when she felt a slow blush creep up her cheeks. He gave her the wine glass and their fingers touched lightly, Amberley trembled.

  She cleared her throat nervously. ‘So, Greg, what have you been up to over the past few years? You didn’t tell me everything yesterday and I want to hear more,’ she asked him, desperate to focus on something other than the way he was making her feel.

  ‘After leaving school, I had a year out to travel around Europe with some mates. I made a good living selling my paintings and drawings. Would you believe one of them was exhibited at the Royal Academy summer school?’

  Amberley was impressed. ‘That’s amazing, Greg, but then you always did have a talent for art.’

  He drank from his glass and swirled the liquid around, smiling to himself. ‘I went to Falmouth College where I did a foundation course in art. I was accepted by the Royal College of Art after that.’

  ‘Even I know how hard it is to get in there, one of our design consultants went there too. What then?’ she asked, leaning towards him, eager to hear more.

  ‘This was the best part, I was offered three years as a painter in residence in a University near Sydney.’

  Greg studied her face; he loved the way she wanted to know all he’d been doing. When she smiled like that, her whole face lit up.

  ‘What made you stay on?’

  He grinned and placed his drink back on the table. ‘Sun, sea, surf and crystal clear light to paint by – it was ideal for me.’

  Amberley watched as he paused, she wanted to hear more, engrossed now. ‘What else?’

  ‘Well, I helped out at the Uni and we were going to open a gallery there but… best laid plans you know. Anyway,’ he said, changing the subject, ‘Cornwall’s always been my real home and it’s where I want to stay. I’m in the process of opening my own gallery and studio; in the future I’d love to open a small art school too.’