Free Stranded by Amberly Woodruff Page B

would play with her breasts and clitoris, bringing herself to a brief but intense orgasm, while images of Jed and their lovemaking played
across the screen of her inner eye.
    And she was restless now, as though her old life no longer
fitted. Drama had lost its attraction: she no longer wanted to work in theatre
or with students, though she had no idea what to do in its place. The city seemed
claustrophobic and smutty, somehow - she would rather be in the fresh air, with
the wind blowing her hair about and the sea singing its hypnotic song.
    At last, when September was well underway and the nights
were drawing in, she could bear it no longer. Slinging a few essentials in her
car, she phoned her parents to let them know she was going to Cornwall for a
week or so to think her life through, and then headed for Polgorrow .
She hadn’t told them much about Jed, so they put her depression and
rootlessness down to her breakup with Damien, and were all in favour of her
getting away.
    When she arrived, the cottage was chilly and she set about
building a fire in the grate in the sitting room, where she sat with a mug of
tea and a scraped together meal of egg and chips. Replete, she drowsed for a
while then, unable to face the cold bedroom, fetched a duvet and snuggled down
on the sofa.
    By morning, the central heating had warmed the whole place
through, but the fire had cheered her last night, so she raked the embers and
built it up again, leaving a heartening blaze while she washed and dressed and
ventured into the brisk morning air, finding her way down the garden to the
creek.
    There was no boat now to tempt her, and, anyway, the tide
was out and egrets picked their way among the mud flats, yellow feet flashing
on the end of long black legs, their white feathers dazzling in the early sunshine.
A mist was rising along the opposite bank, shrouding the trees and deadening
sound. Tamsin turned to go back to the house, ready for breakfast, her spirits
more buoyant than they’d been since spring.
    Then she froze. There was someone by the back door, his
shape, with its broad shoulders and slim hips, achingly familiar. She began to
walk faster, unable to believe her eyes, eager to find out for sure, though she
could think of no reason for Jed to be here.
    Then they were face to face and she was devouring him with
her eyes. He looked thinner than before, his features gaunt and strained, hair
shorter and swept back from his brow to reveal worry lines that she didn’t
remember being there in May. He also looked unsure of his reception, even as he
stood his ground. Her heart was stuttering and leaping, but she kept her face still,
wondering why he was here and what he was going to say.
    In the event, he stood mute, one hand tentatively held out
to her and she took charge, opening the door and leading him into the warm
sitting room. He followed meekly and sat on the sofa in front of the fire,
automatically holding his hands to the blaze, as though he’d lost the power of
speech. She sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder, feeling an
unexpected calm spread through her.
    ‘God, Tamsin,’ he said at last, eyes despairing, ‘I’ve been
a total idiot. I know it’s far too late to salvage anything between us - you
must hate me - but I needed to come and make my peace with you…’
    ‘But…how did you know where I was?’
    He ran his hand through his hair, sweeping it from his
face, and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands like a small child, and
Tamsin was touched by his vulnerability.
    ‘You gave your parents’ address and telephone number in the
flight log,’ he began, voice still hesitant. ‘I rang them and they told me you
were down here. They said you’d mentioned me pulling you from the sea, and they
thanked me for saving your life.’ He gave a small grin and went on: ‘They were
relieved it wasn’t Damien asking after you.’
    Questioning him about how he had found her was a delaying
tactic and, underneath her