No sooner met but they looked,
no sooner looked but they loved
– As You Like It
‘So, your neighbour’s kind of hot,’ Cesca said, as the two of them were walking through the woods at the back of the house.
Juliet rolled her eyes. She’d deliberately steered her sister clear of the tree house that Ryan had almost finished, though the growl of his electric saw still echoed through the trees.
‘So says the girl with the movie star fiancé. And you shouldn’t be looking.’ It came out sharper than Juliet intended. Cesca raised her eyebrows, looking at her suspiciously.
‘You’re not jealous are you?’
‘No.’ Juliet’s reply was almost instantaneous. ‘He’s just a neighbour. And I’d prefer it if you didn’t ogle him.’ Her mouth was dry, as she remembered their kiss the other night. She hadn’t had a chance to speak with him since – she’d been dealing with a big order at the florist. Maybe it was better that way, she still had no idea how she was supposed to deal with her feelings.
‘Hey a girl can still appreciate the view.’ They clambered over a moss-covered log. ‘And so should you. It’s not often you get a next-door neighbour that looks like that. Especially one that’s so good with kids.’
‘You’ve only been engaged for a few months. Has Sam’s lustre already worn off?’ Juliet tried to turn the conversation back to Cesca. She wasn’t enjoying being grilled.
Cesca’s smile lit up her face. ‘Not at all. He’s still lovely, and to be honest he makes your neighbour look like a troll. But beggars can’t be choosers.’ She winked at Juliet to show she was teasing. ‘But seriously, what gives between you two? When we dropped Poppy at school this morning he couldn’t take his eyes off you.’
Cesca had arrived in Maryland the night before, having flown in the previous day. She’d left Sam in Washington DC, where he was due to meet with reporters. He would join them that evening, and the four of them would squeeze into Juliet’s tiny bungalow. She couldn’t help but think how unglamorous they’d find it, after living the movie-star life.
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t be happier staying in a hotel in town?’ Juliet asked again. ‘Sam might be more comfortable there.’
Cesca stopped, leaning against an old oak tree. ‘Are you trying to change the subject?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ Juliet didn’t want to talk about Ryan. Didn’t want to think about him. Every time she remembered that kiss, she felt like she was blushing all over, like a sixteen-year-old girl with her first crush.
‘Well to answer your question, we came to see you and Poppy, not to spend the night in some swanky hotel. And if we need to sleep on the floor in your basement, then we’ll be happy to do that.’ Cesca shot Juliet a smile. ‘And as to changing the subject, that’s not going to happen. I saw the way you were looking at him, too.’
‘There’s nothing going on between us.’
‘But you want there to be?’
They’d reached the brook at the bottom of the tree-lined slope. The water bubbled and danced as it made its way through the trees, heading for the Chesapeake River on the other side of town. They walked along the bank, their boots sinking into the soft mud. ‘I don’t know what I want. I’m in the middle of a painful divorce and I’m trying to protect Poppy from the fallout. Ryan may be the best looking man I’ve ever laid eyes on, but the timing’s totally wrong.’
‘But apart from that?’ Cesca started laughing. ‘Come on, we both know that when love strikes, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. I’m living, breathing evidence of that.’
Juliet couldn’t help but smile. Cesca and Sam’s love story had touched all their hearts. The two of them had been enemies for years, before they’d been thrown together in an Italian villa for the summer. It was there, in the Mediterranean heat, that they’d thawed out, and somehow fallen in love.
‘Well, if there’s anything I know, it’s that this isn’t love. Lust, maybe, but definitely not love.’ She stepped on a dried-out branch, feeling it crack beneath her feet. The sound reverberated in the air. ‘And anyway, it doesn’t matter, because as I said before, I’m still married. If Thomas found out—’
‘He’d have to put up with it,’ Cesca interrupted. ‘Because he isn’t acting married. He’s got a girlfriend, after all. And
you’re in the middle of negotiating your divorce. You can’t use that as a reason not to move forward, Jules, not unless you want to be alone for the rest of your life.’ She leaned down to pick up a pebble, then threw it into the water with a satisfying splash. ‘And I should know, I stopped moving forward a long time ago. It took me years to realise the only person holding me back was me. I don’t want that for you, too.’
‘But you didn’t have a daughter to think of,’ Juliet said, coming to a halt beside her sister. ‘And Thomas has already made his dislike of Ryan clear. There’s bad blood between them, and this is a small town. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to use it against me in court.’
‘Jules, this will always be a small town. What are you going to do, live like a nun for the rest of your life? Let yourself be a sacrifice to the feud between the Montagues and the Capulets? You’re not the kind of girl who gives up like that. Thomas doesn’t have the right to dictate who you see any more, just like you don’t have the right to dictate to him. He’s trying to control you, even though you’re apart now. Don’t let him do that to you.’
Juliet rolled her lip between her teeth, staring out through the trees to the rolling fields beyond. Her family had always thought Thomas too controlling. It turned out they were right. She was just too blinded by love to see it at the time.
‘He’s not controlling me, not any more. But I’m not going to jump into anything, or onto anybody, without thinking things through first.’
Cesca was smiling. ‘Jump onto anybody? Is that what you want to do to him?’ She waggled her eyebrows, Groucho Marx-style. ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’
‘No.’ Her answer was too short, and too fast. She knew it would only pique her sister’s interest more. That was the problem with having a writer as a sibling, they were practised people-watchers, and Cesca could read Juliet like the words on her page. Growing up, they’d all naturally fallen into roles. As the eldest, Lucy was the strong one, the organiser. Juliet had been the dreamy perfectionist, pursuing a degree in fine arts that was cut short by her romance with Thomas. Cesca had been the observant writer, always listening, watching, typing away. Like their poor dead mother she’d dreamed of a career in the theatre, though unlike Milly Shakespeare, her heart belonged backstage, not right at the front, taking a bow. Their youngest sister, Katherine – or Kitty for short – was quieter than the rest of them, but no less affected by their family tragedy. She was in LA now, working as an assistant producer on a major production.