I love you too, Harlan thought. But before the words could form on his lips, he shook himself free of the fantasy. He jerked to his feet, grabbed his jacket and left the flat. He needed to walk, to clear his head. As he pounded the streets, though, scenes of Eve tumbled through his mind in rapid succession, threatening to overwhelm his consciousness. He was holding her, kissing her, tasting her, smelling her. They were in bed, making love. Then he was watching her sleep, stroking her hair. Memories mixed intoxicatingly with imagination, like colours on a palette, until one became indistinguishable from the other. In a kind of daze, he took out his phone and called her.
“Harlan?”
The sound of Eve’s hesitant, hopeful voice jolted Harlan back into the moment. He gripped the phone to his ear, heart thumping.
“Harlan?” she repeated. “Are you there? Are you okay?”
This is crazy, Harlan thought. It can only lead to more pain and suffering. Just hang up, hang up…But he didn’t hang up. Instead, he said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called.”
“No, I’m glad you did.”
Harlan was aware that his breathing had quickened. There was a slight quiver in his voice as he spoke. “Jim told me you broke up with your boyfriend. But he didn’t tell me why.”
“I realised I didn’t love him.”
Eve’s answer led Harlan to another question, one he didn’t dare ask — what made you realise you didn’t love him? A moment of silence passed. “I’m sorry,” he said, for want of something to say.
“Don’t be. It’s not your-” Eve broke off.
It wasn’t hard for Harlan to figure out what she’d been about to say. It’s not your fault. The implication behind her silence sent a rush of blood through his body. Suddenly, he knew that he had to see her. He just had to, no matter how his guilt burned at his soul. “Where are you?”
“At work.”
“Can you get away?”
“Why?”
“I want-” No, want wasn’t the right word. “I need to see you.”
“Okay. We can meet at my flat, if you like.”
“Where is it?”
Eve gave Harlan the address, and he told her he’d be there as soon as he could. He ran to his car, not wanting to give his guilt a chance to steal his need, his desire. When he got to Eve’s place — a one bedroomed, modern apartment close to the city centre, about as different from their suburban semi as you could get — she was waiting for him. She not only sounded different, but she looked different too. Her hair was shorter, more styled. Her makeup was more carefully applied, more sensual. She’d put on a little weight, but in a good way. She looked more like the girl he’d fallen for than the wife he’d divorced. He stared at her awkwardly, suddenly conscious of his unkempt hair and the scruffy growth of stubble on his hollow cheeks.
“Hello Harlan.” Eve smiled, but Harlan could tell she was as shocked by his appearance as he was surprised by hers.
“Hello Eve.”
She motioned for him to come in, and he followed into an open-plan living area furnished with a cream three-piece suite that wouldn’t have lasted ten seconds with Tom’s muddy feet jumping all over it. There were pictures on the walls — including several photos of Tom at different ages, from baby to shortly before he died — and books and ornaments on a set of shelves, as well as other knick-knacks that marked the flat out as a home rather than just a place to sleep. Sliding glass-doors led to a balcony that overlooked what seemed a different city than the one visible from Harlan’s flat. He was glad to see that Eve was doing so well, but it also made him think, this isn’t right, you shouldn’t be here. “You look great,” he said.
“Thanks. You look…” Eve hesitated.
Harlan could see she was reluctant to say anything that might upset him, so he spoke for her. “I look like shit.”
“I was going to say you look like you’re ready for a good meal and a good night’s sleep.”
“And a bath and a shave.” Harlan heaved a sigh. “It’s been a long few weeks, and the last twenty-four hours have just about finished me.”
Eve looked at Harlan searchingly. “Did you have anything to do with this incident they mentioned on the news?”
Harlan nodded, reflecting that even after four years apart Eve could still read him better than anybody else he’d ever known. Her eyes widened as he told her what’d happened. “So you caught the kidnapper.”
“Maybe. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
“You could be in line for the reward then.”
Harlan frowned. “I honestly hadn’t thought about that. I didn’t do it for the money.”
“Of course you didn’t. I know that. Just like I know you’re already thinking about refusing the reward. Well you shouldn’t. That money could give you a fresh start. You owe it to yourself to accept it.”
I owe myself nothing, thought Harlan, his desire evaporating like dry ice. The only debt I have is to Susan Reed and her children. The idea that he might profit from their loss was almost enough to nauseate him. He looked guiltily away from Eve, turning as if to leave. “Do you want something to eat?” she said quickly. “I can make you a sandwich or whatever.”
“I don’t know. Perhaps I should go.”
“Stay a while longer. If you’re not comfortable talking about Susan Reed, I won’t mention her name again.” Eve reached out to touch Harlan’s hand. It was only the lightest of touches, but it reignited his desire like a fire in a haystack. “Please, Harlan.”
“Okay. I tell you what I’d really like. I’d like some spaghetti, if that’s not too much trouble.” Harlan had always loved Eve’s pasta. He hadn’t eaten a meal that was worth tasting in years, and just the thought of it made him salivate.
Eve smiled again. “Of course it’s not.” She headed into the kitchen. “Look, why don’t you get a bath while I’m cooking?” She pointed to a door. “The bathroom’s in there.”
Harlan hesitated, but Eve wafted him towards the door. Like the rest of the flat, the bathroom was clean and comfortable and smelt of Eve’s perfume. He set the water running and poured bubble-bath into it. As he undressed, he noticed a razor and shaving-foam on the side of the bath. He lathered his cheeks and shaved at the sink, before getting into the bath. He stretched out, releasing a long breath, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt the knot of tension in his belly start to uncoil.
After soaking in the bath, Harlan towelled himself down, dressed and returned to the living-room. He inhaled the scent of cooking, and his stomach growled. Like a moth to a flame, his gaze was drawn to the photos of Tom. After a moment, he was amazed to realise he was smiling. “Beautiful, isn’t he?” said Eve. Harlan turned and saw that she was watching him intently from the kitchen doorway, as if trying to gauge his reaction to the photos.
“He’s the most beautiful thing I ever saw.” There was still sadness in Harlan’s voice, but no trace of the old bitterness.
Eve’s features relaxed. She approached Harlan and stood close enough that he could smell her wine-sweet breath, studying his face as if she’d never seen it before. “I used your razor,” Harlan said, dry-mouthed, restraining an urge to grab her and crush her to him. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Eve shook her head. Hesitantly, she reached to stroke his cheek. “The food won’t be ready for a little while,” she said, as he shuddered at her touch.
He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could do so she kissed him. He kissed her back, hard. The sensation was familiar, yet new at the same time. Blood pounding in his head and groin, he ran his hands up and down her back. Urgently fumbling at buttons and buckles, they undressed each other. Then they were on the floor, limbs entwined, hips grinding, rushing towards a simultaneous orgasm. Afterwards, they held each other close for a long while. When they finally drew apart, Harlan saw that there were tears in Eve’s eyes.