"I'm hungry," a voice whispered closed to her ear.
Demelza cracked one eye open to see a mop of black curls leaning over her. For a moment, she blinked confused by the sight, her mind still occupied by dreams.
Valentine was standing next to her bed, hovering over her, his breath tickling her cheek, his face scrunched up in a frown. Her first thought was that the boy really took too much after his father.
Opening her eyes wider, Demelza took note of her surroundings. Light streamed through the window to Ross' bedroom. The flat was quiet. The sound of the little boy's breathing close to her ears was the only one she could hear. It must have been early morning.
Demelza buried her face in her pillow with a groan. Her body protesting being awake, a rare event for her who had always been in the habit of rising with the sun. Even as a teenage girl, she had never been one to lounge around in bed until noon, but this morning, she might have made an exception. She'd had such a hard time getting back to sleep last night.
"I'm hungry," Valentine repeated, a little louder this time.
She sighed. It was time to wake up. She had to drive home to change before work. She couldn't go back to sleep even if there hadn't been a hungry toddler staring at her.
"Give me a minute," she told him, her voice raspy as she turned onto her back and stretched her limbs, the sensation of her muscles tensing and releasing making her shiver.
"Where's papa?" the child asked her as he crawled onto the bed next to her, still frowning.
"Your papa slept in the living room, last night," she said, sitting up on the bed. She ran a hand through her hair in an effort to tame it. Even without the help of a mirror, she knew she must look a fright.
"Why?" Valentine cocked his head to the side, looking up from his position next to her knees.
"Because he gave me his bed so I could sleep over," she explained before covering her mouth to hide her yawn.
The toddler nodded as if the answer satisfied him.
"Now what do we say when someone just woke up?" she asked him with a pointed look.
The child looked up at her, his brow furrow, obviously confused by the turn in the conversation.
"We say good morning, Valentine," she greeted him, staring directly into his eyes.
The toddler's frown deepened as he looked down at the sheets covering her knees, seemingly annoyed. He was in no better mood than he had been the night before.
Demelza suppressed a sigh. She probably was not the only one that had had trouble sleeping last night.
Hoping to lighten the child's mood, she reached over to tickle him, rapidly running her fingers over his sides in a feather like touch, the sensation making him jump in surprise, a smile breaking across his face. She leaned forward as he tried to move away from her touch, not letting him go until he erupted in laughter.
"Stop!" he pleaded, but Demelza only tickled his neck in answer.
The boy squirmed, rolling himself into a ball trying to avoid her attack, as he laughed uncontrollably.
"Stop!"
"So what do we say?" she asked again, giving him her best evil smile as he squealed.
"Good morning," he answered giggling.
"That's better," she said, letting him go. "Now, let's see what we can do for breakfast."
Demelza pushed off her sheets, as Valentine jumped off the bed, running towards the bedroom door. The child was clearly famished.
"No running inside, Valentine."
The boy stopped in his track, looking at her with a pout.
"But I'm hungry," he whined.
"I know," she said, getting up and walking towards him. "But there are people that live in the flat below us. They don't want to hear you running on top of their head. Come on!"
She extended her hand for him to take as she opened the bedroom door. Valentine put his small hand inside her own. She felt his chubby fingers tighten around her palm. Together, they made their way towards the living room where they found Ross still sleeping on the couch. Her ex-husband was lying on his left side, his body turned towards the living room, his head no longer resting on a pillow, the latter having fallen to the floor sometimes during the night. Instead Ross was lying down, mouth open with a small trail of saliva falling on the bicep he was using as a make-shift cushion.
Valentine's eyes widen at the sight of his father, and he dropped her hand as he rushed towards him.
"Valentine, don't," she warned him, but the child didn't listen, and she could only watch as he jumped on top of his father's right hip.
Ross gave a groan, his eyes flying open as he looked around the room with a wild, confused look, until his gaze finally settled on the toddler lying on top of him.
"Good morning, papa."
Ross sighed, shifting until he laid on his back, Valentine kneeling on his stomach. Demelza held back a curse.
"Valentine, let your papa sleep," she said, shaking her head. The child turned to look at her with a stormy look, remaining where he was. She ignored him, turning to address Ross. "I'm sorry, we bothered you. You can go back to sleep."
"It's alright," her ex answered, his voice still groggy from sleep. "It's probably time for me to wake up anyway."
He ran a hand through his hair, making his curls stand up in a tousled mess of tangles around his head.
Valentine burrowed his face in his father's neck, announcing, "I'm hungry."
Ross blinked several times, shaking the remainders of sleep, as his arms came to encircle to boy in his arms, his hand drawing circles around the child's back.
"Hmm." Ross nodded, deposing a kiss on his son's brow. "What would like for breakfast?"
The child's eyes lit up at his question, the thought of food obviously exciting him.
"Eggs with cheese," Valentine answered.
Ross nodded again as he moved to sit up, letting out a loud yawn. His son jumped off the couch, running towards the kitchen to Demelza's dismay.
"I can take care of breakfast," she offered Ross. "You don't have to get up."
Ross turned to look at her with a scowl as he scratched his stubbled chin.
"Absolutely not. You took care of supper, the least I can do is take care of breakfast. I may not have your culinary skills, but I am still capable of making scrambled eggs, I assure you."
"I know that. I only meant…"
"You only meant for me to lay about while you took care of everything," he stated with a gentle smile, something tender in his gaze.
She shook her head at him. She heard the leather covering of the couch screech as Ross got up and made his way towards her. He moved to stand very close to her, his body masking the light from the room. She felt her cheeks redden at his proximity.
"You looked tired, that's all," she explained, looking down at her hands. "And you'll be with Jeremy all day so I thought…"
"I'm alright. But thank you. I appreciate the thought."
"Papa!" Valentine called from the kitchenette.
"Coming," Ross answered as he made his way towards him.
"I should check on Jeremy," she said.
Ross nodded.
"Tell me if he's hungry. I can make some beans with sausages when he's ready."
"I'll tell him." She gave him a small smile which he returned with one of his own. Her heart gave a little tug at the sight.
"Papa!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Ross answered, giving her an apologetic look before following his son to the kitchen.
Demelza turned away from them, making her way to Jeremy's room. There, she found her son still asleep, curled up in a ball in the middle of the bed, his covers once more on the floor.
She bent down to gather them, shaking them back into shape, the sound of the sheets unfolding ringing loud in the quiet room.
Morning light filtered through the curtains. She could hear Ross grilling eggs on the stove, over in the kitchen, the gentle sound of fat cooking over the fire filling the flat; Valentine laughed at something his father said. Demelza worried that the sounds of the flat waking would disturb Jeremy, but her son did not steer.
She laid the covers over him, feeling his forehead for his temperature. The boy's skin still felt too warm over her touch, but he did not feel as hot as he did the night before.
She let out a sigh of relief, thoughts of Julia's burning skin running through her mind once again.
She ran a hand in Jeremy's curls. The child's hair felt slightly damp with sweat. Leaning over she dropped a kiss on his forehead before making her way to the door, allowing him to continue to rest.
Closing the door behind her with gentle click, she walked back towards Ross's bedroom to shower.
"George said no, but mama said I can go when I'm bigger. And we can go with Geoffrey Charles…"
Demelza overheard Valentine say loudly from the kitchen. He sounded upset. Not for the first time, she felt a pang of compassion for the child, living as she was with the consequences of Ross and Elizabeth's mistake. She wondered about his life in that big house with George Warleghan as a step-father. She would probably never reconcile herself fully with his birth, but she didn't wish him that life.
Stepping into Ross' bedroom, she gathered her old dress and underclothes, not relishing the thought of having to put them back on.
On the bedside table, the clock read 8:23. Her shift wouldn't start until 11:00. Taking the toothbrush, she had used the night before and the towel Ross had left her, she made her way to the ensuite bathroom.
There she put down her things next to the sink and started the shower, turning the tap at the midpoint between hot and cold, as she started unbuttoning her shirt.
Standing naked in the washroom, Demelza shivered, goosebumps appearing on her flesh, as she put up her hand to test the water temperature. The room felt cool, and she hurried to get inside the shower to warm up.
The water was almost hot enough to burn, her muscles unwinding under the spray while her thoughts turned to Ross preparing breakfast in the kitchen and Jeremy sleeping in the next room. If she wasn't standing under this modern Italian shower, so different from the claw footed bathtub at Nampara, she could almost believe that she had stepped back in time to a morning five years ago.
Demelza grabbed the bottle of mint scented soap standing there and started lathering her skin, carefully rubbing at her arms and legs, and letting the water wash away yesterday's grime.
It seemed that as long as she stayed here, at his place, her mind could not keep away from Ross.
Something had shifted between them the night before. There was a new intimacy. It wasn't much, but it was there, and she wasn't sure what to think of it.
Things were definitely over for them, but he had said that they were friends. They had not been friends in more than a decade. She was not sure if she wanted them to be.
Demelza shook her head, rinsing herself under the spray, watching the soapy water run down the shower drain. She wondered if it really was possible to be friend with your ex-husband. She had no experiences with exes, Ross being the only man she'd been with.
Except for Hugh.
She felt her stomach twist at the thought of him. Hugh had offered to stop by the store to see her today, but she'd turned him down. She knew she wouldn't be good company today, not as long as Jeremy was still feverish, but she was starting to wonder if she should have said yes. It might have been good to talk to him, not let herself get trapped in the past.
Demelza turned off the tap and stepped out of the shower, drying herself off with her towel. She allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of being fresh and clean before putting her dirty underclothes back on.
She had chosen her clothes and underthings for the way they made her look rather than for how comfortable they were, and the dress continue to feel too tight around her middle, making it difficult to breath. She would be glad to change as soon as she got home.
Demelza sighed. Hugh had barely had the time to look at her in that dress, and she had spent so much time getting ready for their date.
She had started brushing her teeth when she heard the doorbell ring, she spared a thought to wondering who it could be. It was not quite yet nine o'clock, and she could not imagine who would pop in to visit Ross this early.
Then she heard a voice coming from the hallway.
Demelza's shoulders tensed up.
Ross had said that he had Valentine for the weekend, but it hadn't occurred to her to think about who would come to pick him up.
Of course, it would be her.
Elizabeth.
Demelza cursed herself for not even entertaining the thought. She hadn't prepared herself for this. She hadn't even thought about the possibility of running into her.
After carefully avoiding the woman for the past four years, or as much as it was possible to in a city as small as Truro, here she was, in the very next room.
Demelza had seen her, here and there, walking down a street, driving by a roundabout by Redruth, or shopping for the occasional grocery, but she had always managed to avoid having to talk to her.
For a moment, Demelza contemplated staying in the bathroom until it was over. Her throat tightened.
She could sit here and wait until they left.
She rinsed her mouth in the sink, and wondered why five years after the divorce, she was still here, hiding away, while the woman who took everything from her went on with her own life as if everything was alright.
Demelza looked at herself in the mirror, in her now too fancy silk green dress without a shred of make up on. Even after a full night of sleep, there were still bags visible under her eyes, the stress of her son's illness leaving its mark on her body. Elizabeth would look beautiful. She always did.
Demelza touched her curls, trying to arrange them in a way that could pass as pretty. As a teenage girl, she had tried straightening it everyday, waking up extra early before school to get ready, not that it had ever worked. Her hair had a mind of its own and turned back into a mess of curls at the first sign of rain. It rained almost everyday in Cornwall.
She gave up on trying to fix her hair. Even if she could find a way to tame it, she would still look plain in comparison to Ross' ex. There was no hairbrush in the world that could change that.
Demelza ran a hand over her face. She was pathetic, comparing herself to Elizabeth like she was still that schoolgirl with a crush on her boss. Who cared if Elizabeth looked better? That was all in the past, there was no reason for her to still be hiding in the bathroom, no reason that she should feel ashamed. She'd moved on with her life. She wasn't that girl anymore, pinning after her own husband. She had a whole life, a life that had nothing to do with Ross or Elizabeth or their mistake. So, what was she still doing there?
Squaring her shoulders, Demelza walked to the door, reaching for its handle. There was no reason for her to hide in there. She was done running away from that woman.
She stepped out of the bathroom, her back straight with a niggling feeling in her stomach. She was not quite ready for this, but she had no desire to keep living this way.
As she made her way to the living room, she could hear them talking. Valentine sounded excited.
"…and papa said we could go with Jeje too someday."
From the hallway, Demelza could see Elizabeth kneeling down next to her son. Her back was turned as she helped the little boy into his coat, a cozy navy-blue thing made of boiled wool. Ross was standing to the side, zipping up the child bag. He had gotten dress while she was in the shower and was now wearing a pair of jeans and a faded blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
"Did he?" Elizabeth said, sounding slightly annoyed, but her son didn't seem to notice as he continued talking.
"Yes, he promised. And then, we're…"
Valentine went quiet, his eyes lighting up, as he spotted Demelza.
Elizabeth stood up, turning to look at her.
Just as Demelza had expected Elizabeth looked as beautiful as she usually did. Her hair was falling in perfect glossy waves around her face, her cheeks were rosy, and her whole face was glowing. If it was not for her slightly rounded stomach, it would have been impossible to tell that Elizabeth was pregnant.
"Look, that's Butto!" Valentine ran up to Demelza, holding a toy monkey in his hand. "Mama gave him to me."
Demelza took the plush toy in her hand and examined it. The monkey was covered in brown fur that felt unbelievably soft to the touch as it smiled up at her. It looked expensive, like one of those toys one bought in a "boutique" rather than a store.
Forcing a smile on her face, she said, "He looks like a very handsome monkey. You're going to take good care of him, won't you?"
"Yes." The child nodded. "You can give him a hug if you like."
The boy was looking up at her with such a serious expression that she knew she could not refuse. Keeping the smile on her face, she held the monkey close to her chest, feeling the toy's soft fur under her lips as she gave him a kiss before handing it back to Valentine. The child grinned at her, as he too held the toy to his chest and squeezed.
"Good morning Demelza," Elizabeth greeted her. Demelza took a deep breath and faced the older woman, trying to keep her expression neutral.
"Elizabeth," she answered.
"Papa, hug Butto too," Valentine walked up to his father, oblivious to the tension in the room.
Elizabeth smiled back at Demelza, but the steel in her eyes and the tension in her body contradicted her appearance of friendliness.
"How are you?" she asked in her perfect public school accent.
"Well, and yourself?" Demelza answered, and she was proud of how calm and collected she sounded.
"This little one is being a bit difficult," Elizabeth answered, rubbing her stomach. "But I'm well. This dress looks delightful on you by the way."
Elizabeth looked at her with a pointed stare, her eyes running up and down Demelza's clothes. Her smile becoming more strained, her lips tinning. Something flashed in her eyes, and Demelza knew that whatever the other woman meant by that comment, it wasn't a compliment.
"Thank you," Demelza answered with forced smile.
This scene felt all too familiar, as if her life were on repeat.
Many years ago, she had woken up in Ross' bed, just as she did today. It had been the first night she'd spent with him, her first night with any man really. She hadn't wanted to wake him that morning, preferring to let him rest.
She had slipped out of the house early, Garrick in tow, to go on a walk. The sun had been shinning brightly for an autumn morning, without any sign of rain to spoil her outing. The air had felt crisp and invigorating, and she had filled up her lungs with the sea air, her chest expanding with it. Her heart had felt as if it could burst. She had been laughing to herself like madwoman as she walked along the shores, her feet in the wet sand, the tip of her leather boots getting ruined by the salt water of the coming waves. She had not cared about her boots. She had been too giddy to care about anything. Anything but him.
All she had been able to think about was the night before, what it had felt like to be with him. It had been awkward at times. She hadn't known what she was doing, and she had been so nervous, but it had been wonderful too, wonderful to kiss him and to be kissed by him, wonderful to know the feel of his skin underneath her hands, to feel him move against her.
At that moment, she had thought that what had happened between them had been special, that it had meant something.
It had been late in the morning when she had made her way back home. She had walked into the living room to find Ross talking with Elizabeth. The other woman had been sitting primly on one of the sofa, a cup of tea in her hand. Elizabeth's eyes had widened at the sight of Demelza with her hair wild and untamed and her face pink from walking along the shore. There had been an awkward silence that no one had quite known how to bridge. Ross hadn't been able to look at either of them.
He had been cold. Elizabeth had been polite, but only on the surface. She had known with one glance in whose bed Demelza had spent the night just as she knew now.
Their lives were on repeat.
"Demelza read me a story," Valentine informed his mother, making his way back to her.
Having lost his son interest, Ross walked over to the window to look at what was happening outside, turning his back to the room. Demelza could not see his face, but she could imagine his scowl. George must have been waiting downstairs.
"She did?" Elizabeth said in a pinched tone.
"Yes." Valentine nodded several times. "There was a lot of monsters, but it was alright because they weren't bad, and the little boy played with them."
"That sounds lovely," Elizabeth answered, the words sounding sour in her mouth, as she grabbed a little red tartan cap, lying on the coffee table. "But you know, Uncle George and I brought you back some books, so we can read some new ones tonight."
"Demelza does funny voices," Valentine continued on as if his mother hadn't spoken, as the latter fixed the tartan cap on his head, her movements a little brisk.
"Next time you should ask her to sing," Ross told his son, turning back towards them. "Demelza knows many lullabies."
"How lovely," Elizabeth commented politely as she finally settled the hat over her son's ear. "I am sure that would be quite a treat. I only know a few lullabies. I am much better versed in classical music. I am lucky that Valentine is so fond of Beethoven."
Demelza had to fight not to roll her eyes at this.
"Demelza knows many old Cornish songs," Ross added, just as oblivious as Valentine to the tension growing in the room. "They are our own classics, even if most of us have forgotten them."
Elizabeth pursed her lips, a crease appearing on her forehead, but Valentine looked intrigued, his eyes growing wider as he watched Demelza from under the tip of his hat.
"Sing a song!" he demanded, his gaze not leaving hers.
"Would you please sing a song for us, Demelza," Elizabeth corrected him. "We use the magic word when asking for a favour. And I am sure that Demelza has many things to do this morning. We would not want to impose."
Valentine bowed his head, unable to meet his mother's eyes, as he twisted his stuffed toy's arms into pretzels, his little face scrunched up in displeasure.
"I want a song," the toddler insisted, grumbling under his breath. "Please."
"You probably have to get ready for work," Elizabeth addressed Demelza. "And George is waiting for us downstairs. He has a meeting this morning." She turned to her son. "I am sure, Demelza will sing to you another time."
Valentine hugged his mother' side, still frowning as he hid his face in her stomach.
"I want a song," He mumbled, the words muffled by Elizabeth' stomach.
A car honked outside. George must have been getting impatient.
Demelza bent down on her knees in front of the toddler who turned his head to take a peek at her.
"I tell you what Valentine," she told him in her most soothing voice. "Next time we see each other, I promise I'll sing you something, any song you want. Does that sound fair?"
The child took a minute to mull it over before nodding, his lips still set in a pout.
"That's kind of you," Elizabeth said to Demelza who refused to look at her. "What do we say Valentine?"
She gently nudged the child' shoulder.
"Thank you," he answered as Demelza stood up.
"Well, we really must be going." The older woman pushed her son away to move. "It was lovely to see you, Demelza."
The words rang hollow and insincere. Demelza graced the other woman with a smile just as empty. If she had her way, she and Elizabeth would never have to cross path again.
"Ross, thank you again for watching Valentine this weekend. We will try and organise something for Easter." Elizabeth put a hand on her son's back, nudging him towards Ross. "Valentine say goodbye to papa and Demelza."
The little boy walked towards his father as Ross bent down to envelop him in his arms.
"Bye bye papa." Valentine kissed Ross on the cheek.
"Goodbye Valentine." Ross ruffled his son's dark curls, grinning at him. "We will see each other soon."
Valentine nodded as he let go of Ross and moved over to Demelza.
"Bye Bye Demelza."
"Goodbye Valentine."
Elizabeth leaned down to take Valentine's luggage when Ross stopped her, lifting the bag with one hand before she could touch the handle.
"I'll take it down," he told her with a pointed look towards her stomach. Elizabeth nodded.
"Goodbye Demelza," the older woman said as she made her way to the hallway, Valentine following behind her.
"Goodbye Elizabeth," Demelza answered back, her voice cold, her contempt palpable. There was only so much pretense she could endure for the sake of courtesy.
Elizabeth's eyes widen slightly as she paused for a few seconds to observe the younger woman, obviously surprise by her breach in politeness, before she dropped her gaze and continue making her way to the door.
Demelza watched Elizabeth and Valentine disappear through the door, feeling her shoulders slump.
At least that was over. Demelza rubbed her eyes. The day was only just starting, and she was already tired.
She had not talked to Elizabeth since that day at Trenwith. The prospect of saying two words to that woman had made her stomach knot. But she had done it. It was over.
The tension in the room was gone. The air felt easier to breathe.
"Don't go anywhere," Ross called out to her from the door, Valentine's bag in his hand as he prepared to step out. "I'll be right back."
Demelza shook her head.
"I have to go get ready for work, Ross."
"You also have to eat. I will be back in a minute."
With this, Ross closed the door of his flat, and Demelza was left standing in his living room, staring at the spot he just vacated.
Outside she could hear the sound of a car door opening. Valentine was calling his mother's attention to something just as the old clock in Ross' hallway struck nine, the sound of soft bells ringing through the flat.
Demelza remained where she was standing, wondering what she should do.
Ross wanted to have breakfast with her. At least, that's what she thought he meant by his last comment.
She supposed that was something friends did. She often went out to brunch with Caroline. Caroline could not be bothered with waking up early enough to have breakfast, but she loved brunch. They must have tried every places in Truro that serve something approaching it. Not that there were many.
Demelza felt her palms getting clammy as she pushed her hair behind her ears.
She had had breakfast with Rosina and Jinny before work on a few occasions. She even had breakfast with Prudie once or twice when the woman came over to look after Jeremy.
Friends had breakfast together. That was normal.
She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling her stomach twist.
She was still not sure if they should be friends.
Perhaps this was a bad idea. Somehow without the buffer of Jeremy or Valentine, the thought of Ross cooking her breakfast felt too intimate. Maybe she should go home. She could have some toasts while she got dressed. It would be faster.
Demelza made her way to the hallway. She would get her things and tell Ross that she needed to leave as soon as he walked in.
She had just reached the coat hanger and was about to reach for her scarf, when the door opened, and Ross stepped into the flat.
"You were not going to leave, I hope." Ross raised an eyebrow as he regarded her.
Demelza felt blood rush to her cheeks, her palms becoming even clammier.
"I have to be at work in two hours," she stuttered feeling oddly guilty.
Ross nodded as he closed the door behind him, but he did not look at her as he made his way to the living room. Demelza blinked at him.
"That leaves plenty of time for breakfast," he said on his way to the kitchen. "It is most important meal of the day after all."
She followed him into the living room, absentmindedly noting that the mark of Valentine's artistic endeavor was still on the wall. Ross would need to wash that.
"You don't have to. I can just make myself some toasts at home. You don't need to cook me breakfast."
But Ross was already opening the fridge to look at its content.
"How does bacon with poached eggs sounds?" he asked, pulling the ingredients out. "You always enjoyed poached eggs. I have some crumpets too."
Demelza twisted her hands together as she watched her ex set down some butter, eggs, and bacon on the kitchen counter before reaching down towards the cupboard and pulling out a pan.
"There's no need…" Demelza approached Ross, putting her hand on his right arm to stop his movement, but he only moved over to the stove to light the fire under the pan.
"It will be ready in a minute," he told her as he began to cut a lump of butter.
"Truly, Ross…"
She pulled at the aim of her dress, rubbing her sweaty hands against the silky material.
"Demelza, it's the least I can do after everything you did last night," Ross pleaded with a gentle smile. "Please let me do this. I promise it won't make you late."
Demelza bit her lips. If she avoided the main roads where there would be traffic, she could make it to Nampara and back with time to spare. She could stay.
Maybe she was making too much out of nothing. Maybe they could be friends.
The lump of butter sizzled as Ross dropped it into the pan.
"I suppose if we ate quickly…" Demelza said, staring at his hands while he opened the pack of bacon.
Ross grinned, his back straightening.
"Go sit down." He pointed her towards the small island which separated the living room from the kitchen. "Breakfast will be served in ten minutes."
"I can cook the eggs." She opened the carton, getting ready to set to work. "I just need a bowl."
She pointed at the cupboard in front of where Ross was standing, but her ex did not move.
"Sit down," he shooed her, once again pointing at the kitchen island.
"But…"
"I can cook breakfast by myself."
Ross took out the bowl from the cupboard in front of him before grabbing the egg carton from Demelza. She moved to take it back.
"It would be no trouble," she continued to argue, trying to reach for the carton, but Ross moved away from her once again, setting down it next to the bowl.
"Sit."
Realising that there was no arguing with him this morning, Demelza shook her head, letting out a loud sigh. She walked over to the kitchen island, a small table made out of black marble to match the kitchen's ebony cabinets, and perched herself on one of the high stool to watch him cook.
It was odd to have someone cook for her. These days, it only happened when she went out to eat.
Back when they had been together, Ross had cooked from time to time, mostly breakfast, but he had prepared the occasional lunch and supper, especially when she had been pregnant, or at least when she had been pregnant with Julia. With Jeremy, things had been different. Many things had been different with Jeremy.
But that was the past. Now, Ross wanted to be a friend, one who apparently cooked her breakfast.
The smell of bacon began to fill the flat, making Demelza start to salivate. She had not realised how hungry she was. Last night, she had eaten a little as she cooked, but she had not had a full meal since her date with Hugh. And even that was barely a full meal. She had not had the time to finish her plate before she received Ross' text.
She was starving.
"Jeremy was still sleeping?" Ross asked her, breaking the silence.
"Yes." Demelza answered. "But that's a good thing. He needs the rest."
Ross nodded as he took out a poached egg out of a pot filled with boiling water, just as the crumpets jumped out of the toaster with a loud clanking sound.
"Did you feel for his fever?" He turned his head to look at her.
"He was still a bit warm, but not like last night."
Ross visibly exhaled.
"Good."
Demelza nodded, watching him breathe, his relief like an echo of her own feelings.
It would always be like this for them. They could never be like other parents, who could send their feverish child to bed and prepare for a few days of playing nurse without fretting. To them, it was not as simple as calling in sick from work and making sure their son caught up with his homework. Instead, a sick child came with a stomach-turning dread that would never go away. A fever meant something more to them both, something too painful to name.
Ross exhaled again before turning back to the stove, dropping a new egg into the pot and stirring the water. His shoulders still appeared tense, but she imagined that until Jeremy was recovered neither she nor Ross would be completely at ease.
"You'll have to watch his temperature today," she added. "But I think the worst is over."
Ross ran a hand in his hair and nodded. All they could do was wait.
"Do you want butter and preserve on your toasts?" he asked, changing the topic.
"What kind of preserve do you have?"
Ross opened his fridge to have a look, his eyes running over the bottles lined up on the door's top shelf before taking out a glass jar and reading over its label.
"I have some strawberry," he informed her, uncapping the lid to smell the content, seeming to find it satisfactory. "Here."
Ross held over the jar to her as she leaned over the counter to take it.
Demelza turned over the bottle to check the ingredients, her lips curling in disgust as she saw the sugar content.
"Oh no," she shook her head. "Too much sugar in that one. Do you have any Marmite?"
Ross wrinkled his nose as he took out the new egg from the pot.
"You mean that abomination you insist on eating?" he said, his voice dripping with disgust as he rummaged his cupboard. "Yes, as you have succeeded in convincing our son that this make for suitable breakfast food, I have had no choice but to obtain some."
Demelza rolled her eyes at him.
"Then that's what I'll have," she told him.
Ross set down a jar of Marmite in front of her, then he turned back to fill up their plates.
"I'll never understand how you can eat this," he said, handing her a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon.
Demelza did not answer him, instead focusing on their breakfast. Ross sat down on the stool next to hers, watching her as she cut a large piece of bacon and put it to her mouth.
Demelza sunk her teeth into the chunky piece of meat, letting out a little moan of satisfaction as the taste of salt and fat melted unto her tongue. She could not remember the last time she'd had bacon.
Ross grinned at her before he turned back to his own plate, cutting a poached egg in two with the side of his fork, the bright yellow egg yolk spreading over his toasts.
"Are you going to stop by after work?"
Demelza looked up at him with brows lowered in confusion. She had thought that had been obvious.
"Yes," she started. "I mean unless you think I'd be imposing."
Ross chuckled.
"I don't think you've ever imposed on anyone in your life. Jeremy would be glad to have you here, as I would."
Demelza looked down at her plate, unable to meet his eyes.
"Then I'll be there around seven if that is alright with you?"
"Brilliant." Ross set down his fork. "I forgot, would you like some tea? I also have some orange juice if you'd prefer?"
He got up from his seat, walking back to the kitchen.
"Tea would be lovely."
Ross set out to prepare the tea, filling out his electric kettle with water and dropping two bags of English Breakfast into a tea pot.
"Do you have any sugar substitute?" she asked.
He raised an eyebrow at her because of course he did not.
"I'll take some honey then."
"You know, there's nothing wrong with your weight," he began to lecture.
Demelza pursed her lips. Ross had always disagreed with the way she watched her weight.
"One of these days, the sea wind will blow you away."
"Just give me the honey, Ross."
He shrugged, passing her a mug and spoon as he went to look for the honey jar. Demelza cut another piece of bacon, thinking back to Elizabeth and her perfect figure. The woman must have been five months pregnant, and she still did not seem to have gained any weight. Demelza stabbed her meat with a little bit more force than was required.
"Bloody hell!" She heard Ross shout. She looked up to see him frowning.
"What is it?"
He held up a plastic dinosaur for her to inspect.
"Valentine hid this one next to the sugar." He slammed the toy on the counter. "I'll have to drive to Trenwith."
"You could always wait until the next time you have him."
The water in the kettle came to a loud boil as Ross ran a hand over his face.
"Is it Valentine's favourite?" she asked.
He shook his head again, passing her the honey.
"No, but we have to teach him proper boundaries," he replied, obviously repeating something Elizabeth's must have said.
"I'm sorry," Demelza told him with a grimace.
He shrugged.
"It's hardly your fault."
"No, I mean it must be hard," she said, her voice going a bit quiet.
She moved a piece of egg around her plate, watching her fork glide over the porcelain without bringing it to her lips. She felt nauseous.
Ross raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing.
"Seeing her with George," she explained.
She understood it all too much. She knew how it felt to see the one you loved with someone else, to know that someone else held their heart and shared their bed. If she had been a more vindictive person, she would have relished his pain right now, but she did not. She would never be okay with how things ended between her and Ross, yet she never really wanted him to suffer, not truly. She cared for him too much for that.
Ross shook his head as he emptied the water from the kettle into the tea pot without saying anything.
Demelza felt her stomach churn. She should have kept quiet. She did not really want to have this talk. She might not want him to suffer, but she still would rather not have to discuss Elizabeth with him. After all these years, the pain was still too raw.
Ross put down the tea pot next to her and ran a hand in his hair, as he looked at her as if trying to figure her out.
She bit on her lower lip, wondering how to change the topic. She should not have brought it up. She did not want to hear him cry over Elizabeth.
"I'm sorry," she began. "I shouldn't…"
"I won't deny that I don't much care for George's company," he interrupted her attempt at an apology, sitting down next to her once again. Her muscles tensed up. She did not want to have this talk. "And I would rather he wasn't the man raising my son." He paused there, seeming to ask for her comprehension which she easily gave him. She would not trust George with her house plant, let alone her son. "But as for Elizabeth and George being together. Well… he is certainly not the man I would have chosen for her, but she is happy." He let out a sigh. "Happier with him than she ever was with me. So no, it isn't hard."
As if to punctuate his point, Ross took a bite of his food, chewing on it vigorously before swallowing it down.
"It's not hard at all," he repeated as if this settled the matter.
Demelza blinked.
This was not the reaction she had expected. Ross and Elizabeth had been over for some time, she knew, yet she had not expected him to seem so…well to seem so calm.
He was not jumping from joy at the idea of seeing the other woman married to George Warleghan, but he did not look ready for a brawl with the man. And considering Ross' temper that was surprising.
Her ex had never been calm where Elizabeth was concerned. Even after spending four years away in Iraq, Ross had still been decimated to find her engaged to Francis on his return. At the time, he and Elizabeth had only shared a short college tryst, yet it had hurt him deeply. Now, they shared a child…
"Oh," Demelza stuttered. She did not know what else to say.
Ross stared at her for a moment, his gaze holding her captive.
She felt her heart lodge itself in her throat.
There was something in the way his eyes pierced into hers, something intense that she could not turn away from.
"I do not care who she chooses to be with," he added.
This statement hung between them.
It felt meaningful, as if Ross had meant more by it then a dismissal of Elizabeth and George's relationship.
Something twisted in her stomach.
A police siren went off down the street below. Demelza turned her gaze away. The air of room felt heavy, all the cheerful camaraderie of the morning gone.
She cleared her throat.
"Do you think the tea is ready?" she asked, touching the handle of the tea pot. "Should I let it steep another minute?"
Ross continued to look at her for a moment.
She poured some milk into her cup. This did not feel like a meal between friends.
"I think it's ready," he told her, his tone light. She could almost believe that she had imagined the weight of his stare before.
"Right," she replied.
Demelza looked at the tea pot as if the object were the key to some kind of mystery, while Ross continued eating in silence.
"I hope you are ready for an evening of watching Disney movies," he finally said, breaking the silence.
This made her laugh. It was not particularly funny, yet she could not help giggling like a child. Ross had never much enjoyed the American company's "commercial drivel," as he called it.
She inhaled trying to catch her breath. This felt normal.
"I rather think you're the one that needs to prepare."
He made a face and she snorted. He could be such a snob.
"I'm sure if you're good, Jeremy will agree to watch Watership Down with you," she mocked him, a smirk growing on her face as she poured them both a cup of tea.
"Now, that's a proper cartoon."
"You better not make him watch that, Ross," she warned him. That film would give their son nightmare.
"It would certainly be an improvement from this Disney rubbish."
Demelza blew on her tea, watching the steam swirl above her cup, while Ross added a spoonful of sugar to his.
"This is not too much of an inconvenience for you?" she asked. "I would have taken time off of work, but since he was with you, I didn't want to move him. If you needed to be at the office…"
Ross waved her off.
"It's not trouble. He's my son too."
"I know." She nodded, taking a small sip from her tea.
"You don't need to worry. Jeremy will spend a whole day of sleeping, watching tele, and drinking as much water as he can. And I'll call you if there is anything."
"What about Valentine?" She pointed at the plastic dinosaur still sitting by the sink.
"That can wait a few more days," Ross dismissed her worries. "Elizabeth will survive."
Demelza took a few more sips from her cup. The clock above the oven read 9:35. She needed to leave, or she'd be late.
"I have to go."
She got up from her seat, taking one last large gulp from her drink. Ross moved to follow her.
He walked her over to the door, watching as she put on her coat and fasten her buttons.
"I'll be back later tonight," she reminded him, wrapping her scarf around her neck. "Would you like me to pick you up anything?"
Ross gave her a look.
"What?" she asked.
"I don't suppose you would agree to take away some burgers and chips for the three of us?"
She wrinkled her nose. That did not sound very healthy.
"Jeremy is sick," she pointed out. "He needs something healthy."
It's not as if she was always strict about her son's diet. Jeremy was allowed sweets and the occasional trip to McDonald's, but she could be a bit more overbearing when he had a fever.
Demelza pursed her lips as she looked down at her pair of green stilettos by the door, wondering how to put them on. She could not very well sit on the floor. She should go sit on the couch, but she did not want to walk back to the living room.
Grabbing one, she lifted her left foot up in the air, wobbling dangerously on one leg.
"He needs some comfort too." Ross put his arm around her waist, trying to steady her. Without thinking, she leaned into him, one of her arm wrapping itself over his shoulders.
"It is not like he has chips everyday," Ross continued as if this was all perfectly normal. Demelza swallowed.
"That is true," she said, her voice a bit strained as she untangled herself from his arm and lowered herself down to pick up her other shoe. She avoided meeting his eyes, focusing instead on her pumps.
She got up to find Ross' arm once again wrap itself around her waist. She lifted her foot up. Her heart stuttered in her chest.
This felt nice.
This felt natural.
Her cheeks burned.
She straightened herself. Her two shoes on. She could go, but Ross was still holding her and giving her a pointed look.
"Does that mean yes?"
"What?" she asked, flustered. She couldn't remember what they had been talking about.
"The burgers and chips?"
Of course, she hadn't given him an answer.
Demelza stepped out of his arms, turning to face the door.
She must look a fool.
"Alright," she agreed, her cheeks still flushed as she opened the door. "But I won't get them from McDonald's."
She did not need to look at him to feel his smile.
"That's fine," he said, watching her step outside. "Jeremy will be happy either way."
She nodded absentmindedly, feeling ready to bolt.
"I'll see you later, Ross." She waved at him on her way to the staircase with a more casual air than she felt.
"See you tonight, Demelza," Ross said, closing the door behind him.
She nearly ran all the way down the stairs, almost breaking her neck in the process. These shoes were not meant for running.
Walking out of Ross' building, she felt her heart beat wildly in her chest.
She hurried inside her car, leaning down against her seat. She inhaled, trying to get her nerves under control, but her hands still shook as she put her key in the ignition.
She knew that she was being ridiculous. He had only put his arm around her to keep her from falling down. He was being her friend.
Her cheeks were warm despite the cold early spring weather as she drove to the next street.
He was being kind, considerate. She was being an absolute imbecile, reading too much into things.
He was her friend who wanted to make her breakfast, who made fun of her taste in toast spread, and helped her put her shoes on.
He was her friend, and they were going to spend the evening together with Jeremy, watching movies over burgers and chips like a pair of good mates.
He was her friend who was apparently truly over Elizabeth.
She stopped at a red light, watching a young couple cross the street, her heart still beating too quickly in her chest, her grip tightening on the steering wheel.
She let out a groan.
Who was she trying to fool?
They could never be friends.
A.N.: I am sorry for taking so long to update this story. It has been more than a year, and more than a month since I said I would write chapter 9 (long story short, I got sick with a cold and this messed with my schedule). Thank you to those that are still reading and thank you for all the kind reviews over this year. I hope you are all staying safe, and that you are all well.