By Virtue Fall (The Shakespeare Sisters Book 4) Page 5

  What would Thomas think of her if he could see her like this? During their marriage she’d always taken such good care of her appearance. Monthly trips to the hair salon, weekly trips to the beautician’s. Not to mention the personal shopper at Garvey’s, the local department store, who always called her whenever they had new additions to their designer range.

  To the unpractised ear it sounded like a fairy tale, and maybe it was at first. But in recent years those cinched-in tailored dresses had felt more like a prison uniform. No, maybe they were more like a costume – clothes she put on to pretend to be somebody she wasn’t. She’d tried so hard to be perfect, and it still wasn’t enough. Not for Thomas or for her.

  Sighing, she tucked the hair that had fallen out from her braid behind her ear. It was one thing to dress down, but quite another to look like this while your hot neighbour happened to be watching you from his deck. Her face flushed with embarrassment at the thought of him seeing her like that.

  Growing up, she’d always been labelled the most beautiful of her sisters. But right now she’d never felt less beautiful, less confident of her appearance. Seeing your husband in bed with someone else did that to a woman.

  She dried her hands on the old towel she’d grabbed from the dresser. Her nail varnish was chipped again. An occupational hazard for somebody who spent most of her time working with her hands, but also another reminder of how much things had changed. Thank goodness none of the Marshalls could see her now. It would only confirm their opinion that Juliet could never be the kind of wife they’d envisaged for Thomas.

  She shook her head, flipping on the kettle to boil some water. That was the problem with her weekends off – the ones Poppy spent with her father. Too much time for introspection. She’d spent most of the day in the shop, doing her accounts, and sending out quotes, anything to take her mind off the empty house. Then this evening she’d worked on the backyard, determined to make this house look a little less ramshackle and a little more lived in. But now the sun was dipping beneath the tree line behind the house, she’d run out of distractions.

  That had to be the reason her mind kept drifting towards the imposing house next door, and its intriguing owner. Because try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ryan had offered her a beer, suggesting they watch the sun go down together. He’d said it so easily, so naturally, and she’d been desperate to sip an ice-cold drink on his deck. Desperate and afraid in equal measure.

  She flicked the kettle off before it had even come to a boil, and reached into the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of chilled white wine.

  She might not have been a beer drinker, but right now the thought of mellowing out with a glass or two of wine was more temptation than she had the willpower to resist.

  And maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to get Ryan Sutherland out of her thoughts.

  5

  Come not between the dragon and his wrath

  – King Lear

  ‘Okay, that’s the last one. We just need to get them into the van and drive them over to the hotel now.’ Juliet tucked her hair behind her ear. It must have fallen out of her hairband when they were head down tying the flowers together. ‘Thank you for all your help.’

  Lily smiled. ‘It’s a pleasure. And I can drive them over if you like. Save you the journey.’

  ‘No, it’s already half an hour past your finish time. I feel guilty enough. And anyway, I wouldn’t subject you to the manager’s wrath. I swear he always finds fault in the arrangements, no matter how carefully we do them.’

  ‘He can’t find that much fault. He offered you the contract after all.’

  ‘That’s true. And thank goodness he did.’ Thanks to the Shaw Haven Hotel’s contract to supply them with their weekly displays, Juliet had enough regular income to hire an assistant for the shop. Lily was a floristry student at the local community college, and she’d jumped at the job offer.

  It was a match made in heaven. Their mutual love of flowers might have brought them together, but in the past weeks that Lily had been working here, a friendship had budded between them, too. They’d found themselves talking non-stop as they worked alongside each other, creating floral displays and serving customers.

  Lily had filled a void in Juliet’s life she hadn’t even known was there. A space left empty by the fact her sisters were so far away, and the friends she’d thought she had in her previous life had stuck firmly to Thomas’s side.

  It was nice to have a grown-up to talk to, sometimes.

  There’s always the man next door, a little voice inside her head whispered. Juliet shook it off and picked up the first floral display, heading towards the back door. She didn’t need to think about Ryan Sutherland right now. She’d thought about him enough on Saturday night, after they’d talked across the yard.

  Lily pushed on the back door and kicked the wedge beneath it to hold it open. The van was parked just outside. She unlocked it and unlatched the back door, taking the first display from Juliet and sliding it into the trunk.

  ‘I really love what you’ve done with the trailing vines,’ Lily said, standing back to admire the displays she and Juliet had created. ‘It’s so pretty.’

  They worked methodically, Juliet carrying out the boxed displays, and Lily carefully arranging them in the van. By the time they’d finished, it was five-thirty p.m., half an hour past closing time, and more than an hour since Lily was supposed to be home.

  ‘I’ll pay you for the overtime,’ Juliet reassured her, shooing her back into the shop to get her coat and purse. ‘Now get out of here, your mom must be wondering where you are.’

  ‘You don’t need to pay me, I’m learning so much. I feel like I should be paying you.’

  ‘Yeah, well that’s the highway to becoming bankrupt.’ Juliet shot her a smile. ‘I won’t be taking you up on that offer.’

  ‘You should get out of here, too.’ Lily threw Juliet the van keys, and then pulled on her jacket. ‘I know you like to see Poppy before bedtime. If you hurry you should make it.’

  ‘Thank heavens for good babysitters.’ Juliet smiled. ‘At least I know she’s well taken care of.’ She leaned forward to give Lily a quick hug. ‘Now shoo, get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Good luck with the delivery.’ Lily walked over to her car.

  ‘Thanks, I think I’ll need it.’

  An hour later, Juliet was pulling her car into the driveway, the tyres crunching against the gravel as she pressed her foot on the brake.

  ‘Mommy!’ Poppy’s voice carried across the yard. Juliet was only halfway out of the car, one leg on the gravel, the other still in the foot well. She grabbed her purse and bucket of flowers she’d rescued from the shop, too old to use at work, but too pretty to throw away. A smile worked its way across her mouth as soon as she set eyes on her little girl.

  ‘Hey honey. How was school?’ She dropped her things on the porch, reaching out just in time for Poppy to throw herself into her arms. ‘Where’s Melanie?’

  She looked around for Melanie Drewer – the babysitter who picked Poppy up and watched her at home every Thursday. It was strange that she was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘She started being sick after teatime. It was yucky. The smell made me want to throw up too.’

  ‘She’s sick?’ Juliet looked around. ‘Where is she, in the house?’

  ‘Nah, ah. She went home.’

  ‘And left you on your own?’ She felt her voice rise up an octave, like some kind of panicked soprano. ‘She can’t do that.’

  ‘It’s okay. Ryan told her to go. He said I could play with Charlie until you came home.’ Poppy shrugged as if it was the most natural thing in the world, going to play with a practical stranger and his son.

  Her mouth turned dry at the thought of what Thomas would say if he ever found out.

  ‘Poppy, come look at this,’ Charlie called out. Poppy turned and ran down the porch and back to the house next door, her hair flying out behind her. She
came to a skidding halt next to Charlie, the two of them kneeling down at the corner of the house, both of them staring at something.

  Her gaze rose from the two of them to the deck above. That’s when she saw Ryan, sitting on the comfy two-seat sofa, a laptop propped up on his denim-clad legs. He was frowning at something, using a mouse to click at the screen.

  He wasn’t even keeping an eye on the children. Anything could have happened to them.

  Turning on her heel, she walked back down the pathway and over to the Sutherland house. He looked up when he heard her footsteps, his blue eyes meeting hers.

  ‘Hey. How was your day?’

  His question stole the breath from her lungs, the same way his smile stole her good sense. How long had it been since anybody had asked her that? Even Melanie was usually too busy trying to get supper on the table on the nights she worked to even acknowledge much more than Juliet’s arrival. As for Thomas, well, he’d never really been interested in how things were going.

  ‘Um, fine.’ She blinked a couple of times. ‘I was a bit surprised to hear Melanie was sick. She should have called me, I would have come home right away.’ She felt all kinds of awkward, looming over him as he looked up at her. Why the heck was she getting so flustered at the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled?

  ‘She was going to call you, but I told her I’d take care of things. She looked as green as a dragon, I thought the best thing to do was send her home before she spread her germs all over the neighbourhood.’

  ‘You should have called me,’ Juliet said. ‘I can’t have Poppy being looked after by strangers. It’s not right.’

  ‘I haven’t got your number.’

  ‘Well, Melanie should have given it to you. What if something had happened? What if Poppy had hurt herself when you were looking after her, and needed me? You can’t just … I don’t know … make decisions about other people’s children like this.’ Not even if the way he filled those jeans was making it hard to find the right words.

  Ryan was looking at her as though he couldn’t understand a word she was saying. Three furrows lined his otherwise smooth face, half-obscured by his sandy hair. ‘If something had happened we would’ve tracked you down. But nothing did happen, and it wasn’t likely to, either. Unless you count those two getting covered in mud.’ He gestured at Poppy and Charlie, who were currently on their knees, digging in the earth. Charlie pulled a worm from the soil, holding it in the air and wiggling it toward Poppy. ‘We’re neighbours, we’re hardly strangers. And I know you’d do the same for me if I needed help.’

  The common sense of his answer took the wind out of her sails.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she finally said, her voice quiet. ‘I’m not used to getting any help.’

  Ryan was silent as he stared at her. She felt scrutinised, but not in a bad way. Still, she could feel herself flushing under his inspection, her chest and cheeks pinking up as the blood rushed to her skin.

  ‘You know, that’s one of the reasons it took me so long to come back here,’ he said, closing up the laptop and putting it on the table beside him. ‘This whole notion that nobody else is responsible for your kids except you. It only happens in places like America. In the rest of the world, the less civilised places, raising a child is seen as a village project. If one parent isn’t around to watch them, the others take charge. If a kid misbehaves, they get chastised, doesn’t matter who by. If they’re crying they get comforted. It’s seen as everybody’s responsibility to make sure the village raises strong, well-rounded kids. Because all of us benefit in the end.’

  The timbre of his voice – all low and mellow – was hypnotising, but it was his words that took her breath away. She reached out, steadying herself on the balustrade that ran around the outside of his deck.

  ‘That sounds almost beautiful,’ she said. ‘But nothing like we experience over here.’

  Ryan frowned. ‘But you had your husband didn’t you?’

  ‘Thomas wasn’t great when Poppy was a baby.’ That was the understatement of the year. She didn’t need a whole hand to count the number of times he’d changed a nappy. When Poppy was tiny, he’d moved into a bedroom in the other wing to get some sleep. ‘He had this big contract at work, and was there all the hours he could be. I guess his mom helped as best she could.’ And the truth was, they all adored Poppy. They just weren’t used to babies. How many times had they urged Juliet to get a nanny, to make all of their lives easier? ‘Things are better now though.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

  She tried to ignore the way her breath shortened when he grinned at her. Did he realise how attractive he was? Whenever she looked at him it was like staring into the sun – there was a brightness to him that was almost dazzling.

  And like the sun, she needed to stop herself from getting too close. She was married, she was a mother, and most of all she needed to learn from her mistakes, to stop making rash decisions she’d only live to regret later.

  Otherwise, she was certain to burn.

  6

  These violent delights have violent ends

  – Romeo and Juliet

  Like his son, Ryan Sutherland had learned to sleep anywhere and everywhere. From the earthen floors of nomadic tents in Pakistan, to the luggage compartment of a battered old bus in Cambodia, if there was enough space for him to curl up there, then drifting off was almost a given. Strange, then, that in this luxury king-sized bed in the air-conditioned atmosphere of his Shaw Haven home, he found himself lying awake for hours, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.

  Tonight he found himself abandoning the quest altogether, choosing instead to creep down the polished stairs and grab his MacBook, sorting through photographs from his last assignment. He’d deliberately not taken any more assignments this fall. Between settling Charlie into Kindergarten, and thinking about their move to New York, he’d decided to take a break. He missed his work, though. Photography was his passion, and sorting through each shot, seeing the infinitesimal differences between them, had a calming effect like no other.

  Still, he was feeling cranky when morning arrived, having finally drifted off just before dawn. Charlie, on the other hand, was chirpier than usual, talking with his mouth full as he shovelled spoonfuls of Cheerios between his lips.

  ‘Can Poppy come over to play again after school?’ Charlie asked. ‘We’re going to look for some more worms, and make a worm farm. She says we should be able to train them to do tricks.’

  Immediately, Ryan’s thoughts turned to Juliet. The way she’d looked so angry as she’d stomped across his yard. But as her fury fizzled out, replaced by a vulnerability that touched him to the core, he’d seen her anger for what it truly was.

  Fear.

  But fear of what? That’s what he couldn’t understand. He shook his head at himself – here he went again, thinking about things that weren’t his concern. Didn’t he have anything better to do? Getting his kid ready for school would be a start.

  ‘I don’t know. We’d have to ask her mom.’ Ryan grabbed Charlie’s empty bowl, half-throwing it into the dishwasher. ‘If not we can ask somebody else to come over. Don’t you have any other friends at school?’

  Charlie shook his head. ‘I want to play with Poppy. The other kids suck.’

  Ryan pushed the dishwasher door closed and turned to look at his son. ‘They do? Why?’

  His son blinked twice, then looked down at his sneakered feet, frowning. ‘They’re nasty. They told her she couldn’t play with them because she didn’t have a dad any more.’ Looking up at Ryan, he was still frowning. ‘But she does have a dad, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Yeah, she does.’ Ryan licked his lips. ‘Just because you don’t live with somebody, doesn’t mean they don’t love you. Look at your mom, she’s crazy about you.’

  ‘That’s what I said. But nobody believed me that my mom didn’t live with us. They said moms have to live with you.’

  A glance at the clock told Ryan that they were going to be late if they di
dn’t leave soon. Yet this seemed too important to gloss over. ‘And what do you think?’

  Charlie pursed his lips together, deep in thought. ‘I think it doesn’t matter whether you live with your mom or your dad. As long as they love you, everything is okay.’

  Ryan hunkered down in front of his son, placing his hands on Charlie’s shoulders. His chest ached with love for his boy. ‘Nobody could be more loved than you,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘And you’ll always be okay. I’ll make sure of it.’

  Charlie nodded, the serious expression still on his face. ‘And Poppy will be okay, too, won’t she?’

  Ryan pictured the little girl the way she’d been the first day he’d seen her. Her jaw set, her eyes flashing. ‘Poppy will be more than okay. She’s got guts, just like you.’ Pulling Charlie towards him, he gave him a hug. ‘Come on, let’s get in the car. You’re going to be late for school.’

  Charlie pulled on his shoes, pressing the Velcro straps carefully together. Then he grabbed his bag, slipping it over his arms until it rested snugly on his back. It was too big for him. He looked like a turtle that hadn’t grown into its shell.

  When he pulled the front door open, Ryan came to a halt in front of a huge bunch of colourful flowers. Arranged in a simple glass vase, the white tulips and purple hyacinths were tied together with twine, with green foliage adding a luxurious touch. In the middle of the bouquet was a white envelope. He picked it up and slid his finger through to open it, pulling out a small handwritten card.

  White tulips and purple hyacinths mean I’m sorry. Thank you for helping me with Poppy yesterday, I appreciate it.

  Juliet

  He stared at the vase for a moment, trying to recall if anybody had ever given him flowers before. It felt personal, almost too personal, and yet there was a warmth inside him that wasn’t there before.

  The woman next door was almost impossible to figure out. Maybe that’s why he found her so intriguing.

  After dropping Charlie off at school, Ryan turned his truck in the direction of the business district, right at the heart of Shaw Haven. Though the meeting he was due to attend was an official one he hadn’t bothered dressing appropriately for the occasion. He didn’t own a suit, hadn’t needed one on his travels.