High Tide by Veronica Henry Page B

emotional desert for so long, deprived of affection or another man’s touch. Spencer was never cruel or unkind, but there had been no tenderness between them. A polite kiss on the cheek on greeting or departing, but no hugs. She had got used to going without. She supposed she had switched that side of her off. After all, it was far easier to do that than to seek what she was missing elsewhere. That would have brought far too many complications.
    And that was why she had to walk away now. Spencer might be gone, but really – what she had just done was indecently premature. She’d just attended her husband’s funeral, for heaven’s sake. And she was drunk. Well, not drunk, but her inhibitions had flown out of the window. She didn’t want gossip. Or a reputation. She’d kept her head down for so long in this town. People would be watching, because they always did. One false move and it would spread like wildfire.
    If it wasn’t spreading already. Nathan was probably inside texting his mates. ‘Help. I’ve been attacked by a cougar.’ She’d be a laughing stock. She felt her stomach roil in horror as she thought about it. She didn’t want an embarrassing farewell scenario, with him feeling he had to give her his number. He’d done his duty and he’d been very kind and he was the most fabulous kisser, but she didn’t want him to feel he owed her anything more. She couldn’t bear to think he was working out how to make a swift exit.
    She picked up her bag, made for the gate and let herself out of the pub garden as quickly as she could.

    Kate sat on the sofa with Leanne on her lap and chewed her way through three slices of ham and pineapple pizza, relishing every forbidden mouthful. She couldn’t hear anything on the television over the chatter and demands of the kids, but it didn’t matter. It was comfortable and cosy and friendly.
    The warmth and the red wine and the unfamiliar carbs soon made her eyelids heavy, and she drifted off.
    Sometime later, she felt Leanne being lifted off her lap.
    ‘Sorry,’ said Debbie. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you, but I need to get this one into bed.’
    Kate sat up. ‘I should get to bed myself. It’s been a long day.’
    ‘Scott’ll walk you home.’
    ‘Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine.’
    ‘I’ll walk you,’ said Scott, and Kate knew there was no arguing.
    They walked in silence back down the hill. The lights of the town were twinkling beneath them, and the blustery gale of earlier had blown itself out so the air was now still. A large moon hung over them, milky white.
    ‘If there’s anything you want doing while you’re here,’ said Scott, ‘you only have to say. Deb thought the world of your mum.’
    ‘Thank you,’ said Kate, especially as she knew his offer was genuine, and that if she called him at three in the morning and asked him to toast her slippers and bring them to her on a silver tray, he probably would. She wanted to hug him but she wasn’t quite sure if it was proper.
    ‘You’ll be OK, then?’ he asked as they got to Belle Vue, and she wanted to say no, she wouldn’t, not at all, but if she did that then she would howl and it wouldn’t be fair on Scott, to have a woman he hadn’t seen since he left school bawling all over him.
    So she said, ‘Absolutely fine, honestly,’ and when the door shut behind him she stared at it with her fists clenched and felt desperately alone.
    She hurried up the stairs, scrambled into her nightdress, brushed her teeth and got out the prescription she’d picked up that morning. She didn’t want to risk waking up in a few hours’ time, her mind on overdrive. She swallowed the tablet before she could change her mind, and crawled into bed.

    Vanessa wove her way back up the high street. The lamplights were still on but there was no one around, the shops all in darkness. Her shoes were killing her so she took them off. The pavement was cold beneath her stockinged feet. She’d never seen Pennfleet like this: