Page 22 of The Love Game

The other woman looked at her. ‘It’s taken me a long time to be able to tell people what happened. I was ashamed. Ashamed that I stayed for as long as I did, that I’d allowed myself to become that woman.’

‘Lucy, no …’

‘It’s okay,’ Lucy said, patting Violet’s leg.

‘I don’t think those things now. But it’s taken a long time, and help from other women who’ve been through the same.

I guess this,’ she gestured around her at the studio, ‘this is my way of reaching out to other women, all women, regardless of their circumstances, and saying you’re enough just as you are.

You’re fabulous and worthy and enough, just as you are. ’

Violet sat in silence and listened to Lucy speak, choked up.

‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she said, eventually.

‘So am I,’ Lucy said, and for a few moments they sat shoulder to shoulder looking out to sea, peaceful.

Leaving Lucy to finish up, Violet moved along to Cal’s workshop and found him hard at work, bent over something on his workbench with Beau.

‘Industrious in here,’ she said, leaning against the doorframe.

Beau gave whatever it was on the workbench a good whack with a hammer.

‘There,’ he said. ‘That’s got it.’

Both men stood up and looked her way.

‘When in doubt, hit with a hammer,’ Beau grinned at her. ‘It was my father’s lifelong motto, and now mine.’

‘I don’t think it’s one I can adopt in my line of work,’ she said, laughing softly. ‘Do you guys need me to come back and lock up later or are you winding things up?’

‘Ten minutes max,’ Cal said. ‘We just need to take this through to Lucy. She’s going to photograph it for Keris, she needs some “feature pieces” for the pier’s website.’

There was an old pine door flat on Cal’s workbench, and as the two men righted it Violet realised that it had a complicated-looking leather and metal-work harness attached to the back of it. Putting her head on one side, she tried to formulate the question in her head.

‘Don’t ask,’ Cal advised.

‘But …’ She stared at the restraint system. ‘How does …’

Cal shook his head, glancing away. ‘Seriously. Don’t.’

Beau, however, had no such sensibilities.

‘Ingenious bit of kit actually,’ he said.

‘Hands go here, and this bit goes around here …’ He positioned himself against the door, and put his hands up by his shoulders.

‘We do another fabulous one too for folks who have strong ceiling beams. This one is more practical though, because it’s door-mounted. I mean, everyone has doors, right?’

He grinned and gave her a double thumbs up from his position flat against the door.

‘Umm, yes, I guess,’ Vi said, thinking that yes, everyone had doors, but no, not everyone fancied being lashed to the back of them.

Beau stepped away and picked the door up, sliding it under his arm as if it were made of paper.

‘I’ll take this out to Keris,’ he said to Cal. Violet stepped inside to let him past, eyeing the dubious contraption as he went by.

‘Not everything I make is quite so in your face,’ Cal said, as if he needed to explain himself. ‘It’s mostly mainstream stuff. You know … the things you’ve already seen.’

Vi nodded. ‘Floggers and things.’

‘Yes.’

Were floggers mainstream, now? Was it a prerequisite of bedrooms up and down the land to have a whip and a gimp-mask stashed under the bed next to your suitcases and shoes?

Vi couldn’t imagine that it was. Or perhaps she was out of touch.

She couldn’t even imagine Simon’s face if she’d tried to introduce any of those kinds of things into their sex life; he wasn’t at all adventurous.

In fact, he wasn’t big on spontaneity at all; she’d always tried to tell herself that they were a classic case of opposites attract, but now that they were no longer together, she was more and more sure that that wasn’t a strategy that would have worked long-term.

‘Settled in?’ she said, changing the subject.

‘I love it,’ Cal said, relaxing into that smile that did odd things to her insides. ‘So much space and light.’

She nodded, because she appreciated those same things in her own workshop. The light in the birdcage really was spectacular; she could see why it might have been used as a gallery.

‘The light’s amazing, isn’t it? I can imagine painting here.’

‘You paint?’

‘Not for a long time,’ she said, wistful. ‘I used to love it though. I’m not that great at it, but it’s joyful all the same.’

‘No end to your talents,’ he said lightly.

‘Oh, there is,’ she said. ‘I’m terrible at anything maths related. Or science. Or computers.’

‘Did you see the website? Keris is nearly done now, looks pretty cool.’

Keris, thankfully, was a whizz with computers, and had taken charge of building the pier’s new website.

‘I know,’ Violet said. ‘She’s a clever one.’

‘Melvin and Linda’s furniture arrived earlier,’ Cal said. ‘I had it put just inside their room.’

Violet nodded. Chatting with Cal was more stilted since they’d kissed; she hoped it wouldn’t always feel that way. Maybe if she offered an olive branch …

‘I’m cooking later, if you’re around? Nothing fancy, just pasta …’ She stopped speaking, because his expression already told her the answer.

‘I’ve already made plans,’ he said, looking awkward. ‘Sorry. Really.’

She could feel the flush of embarrassment crawling upher neck. ‘Hey, don’t be silly,’ she said, overcompensatingwith a forced laugh. ‘I’m cooking anyway, it was just a thought.’

‘Another time?’ he said, his dark eyes asking her to say yes.

She shrugged it off. ‘For sure.’ Backing out of his room, she lifted her hand. ‘See you later them. Umm, have a fun night.’

Escaping to the relative safety of her workroom, Violet sat down at her worktable and laid her head against the wood, feeling like a fool.

In his room, Cal seriously contemplated texting Maria and rearranging for a different night.

They had a very occasional, casual arrangement, she wouldn’t mind taking a rain check.

He went as far as to pull his phone out of his back pocket, but then stopped himself as he clicked the screen into life.

What was he thinking of? Turning away a gorgeous, funny girl who’d end up in his bed tonight for a bowl of pasta and a strained conversation with the one girl he was trying to avoid being alone with?

Shoving his phone in his pocket, he started to pack his stuff away.