Morgan relaxed more as he leaned closer, and his movements were more fluid, as if he had forgotten our previous spat.

"'The girl with the green eyes'. That's what we all called you. Not 'Rose'. That was too personal. They got a lot of stick for it from the other kids. But they stuck together and after every holiday from then on I would ask, 'what did 'the girl with the green eyes' do this summer?"

"You did?"

"Of course, I'd do anything to wind up Mira, with her bunched hair and funny teeth."

"You're so mean!" I said mockingly.

He chuckled. "She used to get her own back and call me 'freckle-face'."

"But she used to have freckles too."

"Yeah, but her teeth were funnier."

I smiled and drank again, feeling bizarrely contented.

"So, I guess you could say that from that respect I really have known you all my life. The girl with the green eyes'," he snickered with a mischievous grin as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Ah, but I stopped holidaying here when I was ten."

He frowned. "Why did you stop coming?"

"I never knew the reason. I think Daisy and my parents had an argument over something."

"I'll let you into another secret," and he leaned forward with his head on his hands.

"What?"

"Since I was tiny, knee high to a tadpole, almost, my family used to visit Daisy. Sunday afternoons, or maybe the odd midweek night. My parents had known her for years so we visited her a lot. I think they felt sorry for her, with no family living in the neighbourhood."

"And?"

"I used to ask her to see photographs of you, when I was younger, you know, to see what you looked like," he beamed as if finally giving away a secret hidden for years.

"Why?"

"Because I thought you were pretty. As I got older, you got prettier."

I snorted and looked down at the table, self-conscious again. "I should be shocked, or revolted, shouldn't I? That's not normal behaviour."

"I know, but I was a curious youngster in everything, and Daisy was only too glad to show you off. She used to tell me how well you were doing at school, and where you had moved next, the letters you wrote to her at Christmas thanking her for presents. Things like that."

"Okay, now that's almost like stalking isn't it?" I said with mock shock.

He laughed again. "Almost, but I got over it. By the time I was thirteen my hormones kicked in and I was a full time emotional time-bomb. I suffered with the usual early teen stuff, spots, girls, naked women in magazines."

"So I got dumped for the naked women?"

"Yeah, sorry!" he laughed at himself. "Thank god, we grow out of it, well almost grow out of it."

Morgan was unburdening himself with his childhood stories and I wanted to reach for his hand and squeeze it as he spoke, but I held back. I tried to stay with the conversation but I was being taken under his mesmerising thrall again.

Snap out of it, I screamed at myself in my head. He belongs to Lucie now.

I abruptly came back to the conversation. "Yeah, sixteen is still adolescent and childish, I guess."

"Except I'm a year older than you, I'll be eighteen at the beginning of September."

"I must seem such a kid in your presence, those years make so much difference," I said sarcastically.

He laughed. "No, actually you act a lot older, that's for sure. Although you're a little off centre at the moment but that's understandable."

"Off centre?"

"You still feel out of place, maybe a little lost sometimes. I think you've settled in well. Everyone thinks the world of you already, by the way. You've definitely made an impression."

We sat thoughtfully for a second, and I couldn't help but ask. I realised I needed his approval, just a small morsel to tell me that he liked me, even just a little bit.

"So, what's your impression of me?"

He sat back on the bench, withdrawing his hands to his lap, while his eyes contemplatively studied my face, his lips parted for a moment as he considered my question.

"I think that you're very strong, in your character as well as emotionally. That's rare in someone of you're age," he winked as he said the last part, making me smile. "I think that you have a way with people. Your kindness shows in everything you do, you're thoughtful, understanding. You like to organise and take charge but you want to involve everyone so that nobody feels left out. You very rarely show your true feelings, maybe once with me, but you feel ashamed if you do. Almost like a guard that you keep up for everyone else's benefit."

"And you got all this from ...."

"I observe, and I listen to others without judgement. I see you when you don't think you're being seen." He looked intently into my eyes. His assumptions had nearly all been correct, it was unnerving how he knew so much.

"Anything else?" I said softly, scanning the table top.

"Not really, because now you've put your guard up again," he reached for my hand and drew it across the table, stroking it softly with his thumb. "Don't. You don't need to with me."

"I can't help it," I laughed nervously, savouring his hand on mine. "It's an instant reaction, sorry. I'm not used to being so open with everyone. People want me to trust them, but how can I? I don't really know anyone, not even Mira and Hannah. I've spent days with them, and time with other people but that doesn't mean I trust everyone yet. I find it hard sometimes, that's all."

"I know, the others have noticed too but we're giving you time to settle. You don't like to talk about yourself much. We all respect it, we know you've had a mixed up life. But don't ever be afraid to talk to me, I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

"Why would you do that? You said that you knew me from old, but I'm not that person. You never really knew who I was," I said.

"I knew you had a kind, beautiful face and the bravest heart I have ever known. That's all I needed to know."

I blushed and pulled my hand away from his grasp. Whatever words I had wanted to say were stuck in my throat.

Now was my time to ask. There had never really been the opportunity until now, while he was relaxed, and looking happy. I hated to spoil the mood but I needed to know.

"Morgan, will you tell me about your family? You know so much about me, I know little about you," I said quietly.

He sat for a moment and stared at the back of his hands. "You want to know about Aiden too?"

I nodded, and leaned forward to take back one hand, slipping my fingers in between his. I squeezed a reassurance.

"Okay, if you must know, Aiden's my cousin," his eyes flashed sadly.

I hoped he hadn't noticed that I had stopped breathing momentarily, I had no idea, nobody had mentioned it, the connection hadn't been made, on any level.

"So, I grew up with my parents and sister, Sophia, and younger sister Amelia. Aiden grew up with his own parents. His mother and my mother were sisters. They were close and would spend a lot of time together, afternoons after school and the like. Aiden and I had to play together. His family were poor, and my parents were rich, from my dad's side."

"Anyway, he was taller than me and always a bully. He used to punch me and kick me whenever we were alone, call me names, that sort of thing. We never really played, Aiden spoiled anything we did. Playing in a sand pit would mean that I would wear the sand after having it thrown in my eyes and shoved down my shorts. If we went near a stream he would push me in. My mother would be furious and blame me, but I always blamed Aiden. It would always fall on deaf ears."

"The real trouble started when Aiden's dad, Mick, got laid off at work with the local engineers. His dad got depressed, he drank a lot and became violent, especially to his wife but also to Aiden, who would always have bruise marks across his face when he visited."

"I thought that Aiden would change, become a nicer playmate but he didn't. I remember trying to talk to him about why his dad beat him and Aiden flew into a furious rage, he punched Sophia in the face and broke her nose and kicked my dog, Alfie. When I checked on Alfie later his leg was broken so severely he had to be put down. I was beyond anger, that's when we had our first proper fight."

"How old were you then?" I said.

"About eleven, the fight was at school and we were both sent home after and suspended for the week. He never showed any remorse, certainly never asked about the dog."

"When Aiden was twelve, his father committed suicide. He put a hose in the exhaust of his car and sat with the window up. He gassed himself. Aiden found the body and the police ruled it as suicide. What Aiden didn't know at the time was that his mother was five months pregnant, and the father of the child was my dad. I don't know the whys and wherefores of it all. Dad said that Melissa, Aiden's mum, got lonely and things just happened. To say that my own mother was devastated is the biggest understatement I can make. She was distraught, and fought with my dad constantly. Thank goodness I had Sophia, and Amelia. We used to sit in Sophia's room and cuddle each other when they argued, Amelia used to cry and I was frightened they would split up. My mum hardly spoke to Melissa again."

"The last time I saw Melissa, she visited the house with Aiden. He was in a highly aggressive mood. Sophia hid upstairs, she didn't want to see him, and he sat on one of the garden swings watching me and Amelia playing kiddy football. Amelia was only three so she fell over most of the time but she was a good kid, and I loved her."

"So what happened?" I asked tentatively, knowing this wasn't going to end well.

He sighed deeply, a strain of hurt shadowed across his face.

"Well, somehow the ball ended up over the hedge, so I ran around to get it. I heard a scream and when I came back Amelia was lying on her back on the ground. Apparently Amelia had asked him to play and he'd shoved her backwards so hard she'd fallen and cracked her head on the concrete of the patio. She died instantly, they told us afterwards."

His eyes were filling with tears and I squeezed his hand again.

"She was so little, and beautiful. How could anyone do that to a kid?" he murmured and shielded his face from the falling tears. I didn't speak, and anything I said would have sounded useless.

"So what happened to them?"

"Melissa was found drowned in the river near their old home. There was no sign of any harm to her, she hadn't been killed. She just couldn't take life any more, couldn't bear the shame of having Aiden as a son, money had run out when Mick topped himself and she couldn't bring herself to ask my parents for help."

"What about Aiden?"

"Aiden was sent to a Juvenile Prison, or Young Offenders Prison, whatever they call them now. He was there for two years and when he came out he moved in with Ben. There was no way my folks would let him live with us permanently. At Melissa's funeral, Ben Deverill introduced himself. He was Mick's father and promised to care of Aiden when he was released. They moved into a house closer to town so that Aiden could continue his schooling."

"How did you feel when he came back?" I said questioningly. There was more, I could tell.

"I hated him. I still do. He did two years and took away my little sister for life. How is that right? We don't cross paths, at least if we can help it. Since Aiden's lived with Ben he's changed. He's a lot more reserved. He still does bad things but usually follows his grandfather's orders to pull them off. Now that Ben Deverill is so high up in the Council nobody really questions Aiden any more. I just hope one day he'll get what's coming to him. What goes around, comes around, you know?"

A chill shivered its way down my spine as he finished. "Wow, I'm not surprised you hate him so much."

"You can't change history, even if he served his sentence and denounced his previous ways, there's things I will never forgive him for." Morgan sat back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "My sister's life is just Number One of a very long list."

No one could ever say that Aiden's past actions were comprehendible or acceptable but the Aiden I had met on our brief encounters hadn't had a tainted attitude or hallmarks of a troubled soul. If anything, Aiden had almost appeared ... lonely? Was that the right word? I felt a loyalty to Morgan, and it would certainly affect my opinion of Aiden Deverill from now on.

"Morgan, I'm so sorry, I had no idea, but you understand why I had to ask?" I rubbed his hand in mine.

"I do. I had planned to tell you sometime but, things just keep getting in the way," he sipped his drink again and I put my hands in my lap.

The garden river tinkled as it sang its song over the lime rocks and pebbles. The car park had emptied of cars and bikes and we were completely alone in this peaceful Eden.

"I have to ask something else. Will you tell me about you and Lucie?" I whispered, looking at my glass intently.

"Me and Lucie? What do you mean?" he said warily.

My throat went dry. "Lucie said at the picnic that.....well, she implied that you and she" I couldn't finish, the words just wouldn't come out and I frowned again.

"She implied what? What's she been saying?" he spoke angrily, placing his hands firmly on the table.

"On the night that you rescued me from my dream, you were out earlier?"

He nodded.

"She basically said, on that night, you and she ......were......that you almost slept together," I gushed out finally. I felt heat rise in my cheeks at even talking to him about it.

His reaction surprised me. His hands balled into fists as anger spread across his face and his jaw clenched tightly.

"She said what? I'm going to kill her. How dare she say such rubbish?"

He leapt up from the bench and stood a few steps away with his back to me, his arms rose up and he held his head with his hands.

He spun around. "That's why you've been so mad at me?" he said, choking the words.

I nodded.

"Oh Rose, it's not what you think. I didn't! I wouldn't! She said that?" he sat down again.

I spoke softly, dread in my voice. "Don't be mad at me, Morgan. I wasn't to know that you were together. It's none of my business. I shouldn't have" I shook my head and stared at the table, blinking my humility away.

He walked to me and kneeled, and cupped my hand before placing his other on top, my fingers held firmly within, and he looked adoringly into my face.

"Rose, nothing she said is true, believe me, please. I know she likes me, she's had a crush on me for years, but I don't like her and I don't think of her that way. I never have."

"So why would she lie? You apparently went to her house straight after work and didn't leave until the early morning," my puckered face eyed him cautiously again, and I felt my regret and anguish as I spoke.

"I did go over but only because she called saying she was at home alone. She mentioned some prank calls that had scared her so she asked if I would come over," he said, anger still in his voice. "I sat on her sofa watching TV all night."

I choked. "So, it's not true?"

"No! It's not. You thought that Lucie and I oh god, Rose. No way!" He jumped up and sat beside me, his firm arms were around me in seconds, cradling me close. He smelt so good, his soft rugby shirt brushed against my cheek like silk.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could have put us both out of our misery," his warm cheek brushed against mine as he spoke.

"Like I said, you have to earn trust, Morgan," I whispered. "I still don't know how much I trust you."