personal issues and needed some space to think.” She shrugged. “You’ve certainly come to the right place here.”
Owen felt uncomfortable lying to someone as obviously perspicacious as Heather. He opened a beer for himself, muttering vaguely, “Yes, from a while back.” He sat down, tapping his fingers nervously on the table.
“Where did you two meet originally?” she asked, sipping her wine. There was a glint in her eyes and Owen felt a little out of his depth.
“Err, when he came to London some years ago.” He hoped like hell Nick had been to London at some time. It had seemed a safe bet. Who hadn’t been there at some point in their life?
“Oh, that’s funny. He said he met you eight months ago at a hotel in Poole when he went there for some lighthouse-keeping function.” Heather’s eyes twinkled and Owen knew they’d been made.
Damn the man. Why the hell hadn’t he told him the lie so he could keep it up?
“Oh, it might have been Poole, I suppose and it might have been sooner than I thought.” He tried to keep it casual as he sipped his beer.
Heather chuckled. “You’re a bad liar, Owen. You two aren’t really old good friends, are you?”
Owen kept quiet.
Heather shook her head ruefully. “I can see you want to do the dirty with him. Your face is an open bloody book.” Her voice took on a warning tone. “Just take it easy, Owen. Nick’s not someone you just fuck around with.”
Owen’s beer went down the wrong way and he choked, spitting it all over the floor. Heather thumped him on his back with fists that felt like pistons.
“Do I look like the sort of guy who does that?” he said indignantly.
Heather smiled sadly. “I don’t know you well enough to answer that. But I do get the feeling something’s going on between you two. I know Nick too well.”
“Well, you’re wrong. I’d like it but he’s just not interested. Besides he has his very own personal fu-friend in town.” Owen broke off, not wanting to give anything away on Nick’s “appointment” later. It was still only his suspicion.
Heather looked at him with a sad smile. “He’s told you about Daniel then?”
Owen felt awkward. “No. Not really. But you just did.”
Heather looked panicked. “Oh God, please don’t let him know I blurted that out. He’ll never trust me again. Promise me, please, Owen,”
Owen reached out and laid a long finger on her plump lips. “I won’t say anything to him, pinkie-swear.” Hollowness gripped his chest. “So Daniel and he—they are an item then?” His stomach clenched at that thought, a quick pang of regret that stabbed him to his core.
Heather looked down at her hands and the wineglass she held. “No comment. That’s their business.”
“He shuts me out completely, even though I want to understand what he’s going through,” Owen said, squeezing his empty beer can. “He’s so closed emotionally I just can’t get in.” He stared down at the flat can vacantly. “And when he screams at night, Jesus,” he shivered. “I feel so helpless to do anything. The man is in such pain and he won’t let anyone help him.”
“You seem to care a lot for him,” Heather said gently. “He said you had your own tragedy you were working through. How’s that going for you?”
He shrugged. “I’m okay. And Nick’s been very good to me. But I can’t seem to return the favour.”
Heather patted his hand. “Patience, Owen. I’ve never seen Nick bond with someone like he has with you.”
“I’m not staying here indefinitely,” Owen remarked quietly. “He’s trying to organise a job with Daniel for me so I can move out and he can get his life back.”
Heather looked a little disappointed. “Oh, I see. Well, let’s hope he comes around before that happens. I’ve always been worried about him being alone up here. His dad worries about him too.” She smiled a wide, slow smile that made her round face almost beautiful. “Don is such a lovely man. He
Owen felt uncomfortable lying to someone as obviously perspicacious as Heather. He opened a beer for himself, muttering vaguely, “Yes, from a while back.” He sat down, tapping his fingers nervously on the table.
“Where did you two meet originally?” she asked, sipping her wine. There was a glint in her eyes and Owen felt a little out of his depth.
“Err, when he came to London some years ago.” He hoped like hell Nick had been to London at some time. It had seemed a safe bet. Who hadn’t been there at some point in their life?
“Oh, that’s funny. He said he met you eight months ago at a hotel in Poole when he went there for some lighthouse-keeping function.” Heather’s eyes twinkled and Owen knew they’d been made.
Damn the man. Why the hell hadn’t he told him the lie so he could keep it up?
“Oh, it might have been Poole, I suppose and it might have been sooner than I thought.” He tried to keep it casual as he sipped his beer.
Heather chuckled. “You’re a bad liar, Owen. You two aren’t really old good friends, are you?”
Owen kept quiet.
Heather shook her head ruefully. “I can see you want to do the dirty with him. Your face is an open bloody book.” Her voice took on a warning tone. “Just take it easy, Owen. Nick’s not someone you just fuck around with.”
Owen’s beer went down the wrong way and he choked, spitting it all over the floor. Heather thumped him on his back with fists that felt like pistons.
“Do I look like the sort of guy who does that?” he said indignantly.
Heather smiled sadly. “I don’t know you well enough to answer that. But I do get the feeling something’s going on between you two. I know Nick too well.”
“Well, you’re wrong. I’d like it but he’s just not interested. Besides he has his very own personal fu-friend in town.” Owen broke off, not wanting to give anything away on Nick’s “appointment” later. It was still only his suspicion.
Heather looked at him with a sad smile. “He’s told you about Daniel then?”
Owen felt awkward. “No. Not really. But you just did.”
Heather looked panicked. “Oh God, please don’t let him know I blurted that out. He’ll never trust me again. Promise me, please, Owen,”
Owen reached out and laid a long finger on her plump lips. “I won’t say anything to him, pinkie-swear.” Hollowness gripped his chest. “So Daniel and he—they are an item then?” His stomach clenched at that thought, a quick pang of regret that stabbed him to his core.
Heather looked down at her hands and the wineglass she held. “No comment. That’s their business.”
“He shuts me out completely, even though I want to understand what he’s going through,” Owen said, squeezing his empty beer can. “He’s so closed emotionally I just can’t get in.” He stared down at the flat can vacantly. “And when he screams at night, Jesus,” he shivered. “I feel so helpless to do anything. The man is in such pain and he won’t let anyone help him.”
“You seem to care a lot for him,” Heather said gently. “He said you had your own tragedy you were working through. How’s that going for you?”
He shrugged. “I’m okay. And Nick’s been very good to me. But I can’t seem to return the favour.”
Heather patted his hand. “Patience, Owen. I’ve never seen Nick bond with someone like he has with you.”
“I’m not staying here indefinitely,” Owen remarked quietly. “He’s trying to organise a job with Daniel for me so I can move out and he can get his life back.”
Heather looked a little disappointed. “Oh, I see. Well, let’s hope he comes around before that happens. I’ve always been worried about him being alone up here. His dad worries about him too.” She smiled a wide, slow smile that made her round face almost beautiful. “Don is such a lovely man. He
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