Licence to Dream (20 page)

She produced a plateful of salami and salad sandwiches, accompanied by crunchy pieces of carrot and celery. Afterwards, she watched in satisfaction as he demolished more of her coffee gâteau while making noises of extreme appreciation.

‘Ingram, you certainly know the way to a man's heart. That was delicious. Now, will you come and sit down for a while?’

For some weird reason she felt shy as she went to sit opposite him on her rocking chair. ‘So, what do you want to talk about?’

‘I want, no I
need,
to talk about,’ he began ticking items off on his fingers, ‘you, me, my needs, your needs, the future. I think there are a great many things we should discuss, actually.’

‘That sounds like a pretty comprehensive list.’

‘Yes. But it's hard to concentrate with you sitting there looking so luscious.’ His smile broadened into a grin. ‘And blushing so charmingly.’

‘Will you just get on with it, Elless!’

‘Very well then. Number One: I have a short-term need that can quite easily be filled – clothes. I’ll give you my size and you can go into town and call in at a men's wear shop. They'll be delighted to help you pick out a few clothes for me and then they can ring me for my credit card number. I thought I’d lost it, but it was among that stuff you brought in from the car.’

‘OK.’

‘Number Two: my uncle's house. When we've finished our chat, I'll ring Bill and ask him to find someone to rescue any of my possessions which have survived, but only if it’s safe, and then to demolish the place. It's too dangerous to leave as it is. Bill seems to be a Mr Fix-it round here and I bet he’ll know someone who'll do a salvage job for me.’

She nodded again. No doubt Ben would move back to Queensland afterwards. That thought made her catch her breath, horrified to find that she didn’t want him to move so far away.

‘Now where did you just go to?’ he asked softly. ‘Your eyes glazed over and you looked quite upset for a moment or two. Surely I haven't said anything to offend you?’

‘No. No, of course not. You know how it is. A stray thought. Nothing to do with you. Do go on. Number Three?’

‘Number Three: I need somewhere to live. And quickly. That's more of a problem. There are always houses to rent, I know, but they want longer-term tenants than me and anyway, I shall be coming and going a lot. The trouble is, I don't want to move too far away from my uncle's block.’

‘Why not? Surely you've finished looking things over in York? I’m surprised you didn’t accept the offer to buy it, so you can go back to Brisbane.’ She hoped her voice sounded casually confident but doubted it. Hell, she was a stupid fool, hankering after a man who was only here temporarily! Swallowing hard, she jerked up out of her chair and went to stand over by the window. ‘Go on!’ she said, her voice thick with the unshed tears. ‘I'm listening.’

‘Come over here, Ingram, where I can keep my eye on you.’

‘I need to stretch my back. You get a crick in it when you're painting walls. I wonder how Michelangelo coped with the whole of the Sistine Chapel. He must have – ’

His deep velvet voice cut through her babble. ‘If you don't come here this minute, I'll get up and limp after you.’

She turned round slowly. ‘I – ’

‘Stop putting up a smokescreen of words and come over here.’

It seemed unfair to run away and make him struggle after her. She had no doubt he meant what he said. She started to move, putting one foot carefully in front of the other, each step slower than the one before.

She arrived at the couch and stood looking down at him. His eyes were clear now, the warmth in them unmistakable. His lips curved into a smile and suddenly she could fight the attraction no longer. When he reached out an arm to pull her down towards him, she went willingly, sitting on the edge of the couch within the warm circle of his embrace. A trap? Or a shelter? Or both of those?

‘No struggles, Ingram?’ His voice was husky in her ear.

‘I've been struggling against you for days, Elless, no, for longer than that. Maybe familiarity will breed contempt.’

‘And maybe it won't. You aren't the only one who's been side-swiped by this attraction.’ He pulled her head gently round to face him and leaned forward to place a tender kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘It isn't just sex that I've missed since Sandy died and it isn’t just sex that I want from a woman; it's the touching and cuddling, the smiles, the sheer fun of being two, doing things together, coming home to one another.’

‘I've never really had that sort of long-term relationship,’ she admitted.

‘It can be wonderful. I think we should see if our attraction builds into something like that. We’d be fools to ignore such a wonderful possibility.’

She couldn’t think what to say to that. Only yesterday she’d been quite sure her art was the most important thing in her life, but now . . . Well, she
was
attracted to him, no denying it, but she didn’t want to give up her independence, either financial or emotional.

There was a pause, then he added very quietly, ‘I hadn't thought I could ever feel this way again. I loved my wife very much and we were truly happy together, but Sandy’s been dead for four years now and nothing will bring her back. I shall always love her, but I’m not hung up on the past, not trying to find another Sandy, I promise you. If things work out as I hope, you won’t be second best. I’ve seen it with my mother, who’s been married twice and is now with another guy. It’s just – different with another person, not better not worse, but different.’

Meriel relaxed against him. ‘I’m glad you loved your wife so much. It’s wonderful to hear someone talk like that.’ She picked up his hand and began to play with his fingers. ‘I need to take things slowly, though, Ben.’

They sat quietly for a few moments and she marvelled at the feeling of warmth she got from their simple togetherness.

When he spoke again, aeons later, his voice sounded more normal, but what he said made her jerk upright in surprise. ‘Wouldn't it make sense, on all counts, if you let me rent some rooms in your house?’

After one betraying jerk, Ben felt Meriel grow still. When she turned a rather suspicious glance in his direction, he wondered what had given her such a distrust of men. ‘I don't mean I want to
buy
time with you. I mean I want to rent two of your spare bedrooms for business purposes.’ He cocked his head on one side, his eyes steady on hers. ‘I can sleep in one till you know me better and the other will be my office. And we could have the second bathroom finished off, too, while we're at it, so I don’t need to intrude on your privacy.’

Marvelling at how easy it suddenly was to say ‘we’ again, he put one fingertip under Meriel’s chin, tilted her face up and stared into her eyes. ‘Not that I don't want to sleep in your bed – I do – but I intend to do that only with your full consent and approval.’

She sat there with one of his arms lying round her shoulders. ‘Why is it so important for you to stay near the block? I can't understand that. I thought you were going to sell it.’

‘We-ell . . . Don’t tell anyone else yet, especially here in York.’

‘I promise.’

He wriggled to the back of the couch, giving her more room to lean against the warm angle of his body. ‘I'm a landscape designer by trade, and I love shaping larger landscapes. They’re much more interesting than fiddling with people’s gardens. I’ve done pretty well, got myself a bit of a name for it in Brisbane. I also own a couple of places which provide self-catering holiday accommodation, though I’ve got those on the market now.

‘The firm in which I’m a partner – Elless-Hantley Landscaping – has been working on a big project recently and it’s nearly finished. Last August I gave notice to Phil, my partner, that I intend to dissolve the partnership and once that’s all sorted out, I want to create something of my own, here if possible. A mixture of holiday accommodation, eco-tourism and plant nursery – supplying retailers as well as selling plants myself. I want to focus on rare plants and natives.

‘I’d enjoy taking people on guided tours of the bush. I spent my childhood on the block next door and I know every inch of it, every little creature that creeps or flies or jumps. Tourists enjoy that sort of thing if it’s done by someone who understands the small ecologies that can change from hill top to valley. And if things go well, I want to make my home here, settle down, raise a family . . . ’

She squeezed his hand in encouragement. ‘Go on. How will you finance it?’

‘That’s what’s been holding me back. It took a few years to set up the two places I own in Brisbane. Sandy and I worked our butts off doing things ourselves in the early days. Thanks to her life insurance they’re fully paid off, so when I sell them I’ll have some money to invest. The partnership may be worth something, or there again, it may not. Phil knows nothing about landscaping and plants, so he’d have to find someone to replace me or he’d have no business at all.

‘I
am
good at landscaping large areas, Meriel, but I keep having to follow other people’s ideas, even when they’re not right.’ He went a bit pink. ‘I’ve even won a couple of awards for my designs. So . . . now I'd like to try to do a development all by myself from scratch and – and make it beautiful, yet keep it in harmony with nature and the local flora and fauna. I could sell people an afternoon, a weekend or a couple of weeks of peace and exploring our local ecology. Whatever.’

She frowned. ‘But there's no grand scenery or sweeping coastlines or anything spectacular in York to attract people in the first place.’

‘I was intending to sell them the smaller beauties of nature – kangaroos, emus, cockatoos and parrots, skinks running along their verandas – you know the sort of thing. And wildflowers, especially in the spring. Then there’s the Avon Descent in the winter. This inheritance was a godsend. Here I can give them the quintessential bush of Western Australia and nearby, the quaintness of a small colonial town.’

She was still puzzled. ‘But the bush isn’t all that beautiful here. It might be, if this were a permanent creek, but it's a winter creek only. And untouched bush looks – well, it can look downright scruffy. For most of the year, anyway. It might look better in spring with the wildflowers out, but that’s only for a short time and – and . . . ’

‘You’re forgetting my talent for landscaping. I can make a big difference without destroying the basic ecology. Trust me on that.’

‘Enough to attract people?’

‘I think so.’ His eyes were alight and excitement was crackling through his body. ‘I want to create a small lake, you see. I’ve checked and there’s plenty of water under the ground, so I could sink a bore. I’d place a low waterfall at one side to help aerate it and perhaps a fountain in the middle. I’d make the edges of the lake beautiful. But I need to survey the whole area properly before I can get down to designing it.’

She found his enthusiasm very attractive. ‘That could be lovely.’

‘Yes. I really think it could. I'd do a little landscaping around each tourist unit, then I'd mark out a few well-defined bush trails of varying difficulties, at least one of them suitable for wheelchairs. I'd leave most of the bush untouched, though I'd add some of the prettier local native plants at strategic points. I'd positively encourage birds and I'd scatter wildflower seeds everywhere.’ His expression became wry, ‘Or I would have done all that, if I'd had your block as well as mine. Without your block, I'm sunk. I need the low-lying land intact, you see, for the lake.’

‘That's why you were so very angry that I'd bought Somerlee. I just couldn't understand it.’

‘I thought you'd nipped in on purpose to blackmail me.’

‘And all I'd done was fall in love with it.’

‘Which may perhaps turn out all right in the end,’ he looked at her challengingly, ‘if I can persuade you to sell me some of the land, or come in as a partner.’

She frowned.

‘Don’t answer now – I’m not asking you to come to any hurried decisions. Just think about it for a while, ask me questions and so on. You don't exactly need seventy acres, after all.’ He paused, watching her carefully until she nodded, at which time he judged he’d said enough. ‘Right, then, if you'll help me make a list, then go and buy me some clothes, I'll be happy to continue the business discussions later. I’m getting a little tired of strutting around half-naked.’

‘But your development – ’

He pressed his fingertips against her lips. ‘Don't say anything now, Ingram. Just think about the basic concept. Hmm? Details can be worked out to suit.’

She could feel his charm washing round her, but no amount of charm was going to make her take any rash steps or put her precious financial security in jeopardy. ‘All right. I'll definitely do that. And of course I’ll have to see the books, check the figures and so on.’

‘Are you an accountant or an artist, Ingram?’

She stared at him, mouth open, then let out a little puff of surprise. ‘I never realised . . . I’m both now, I think.’

It wasn’t until she was on her way into town that she remembered the sawn-off ceiling beams. Why hadn’t she mentioned them to him? What was that about? Was someone trying to drive him away? If so, whoever it was would have two people to deal with from now on, not one.

But they might attack his development too. It might bring danger close to her as well.

When she got back from the shops, she found that Ben had eaten more of the coffee gâteau and was giving a very fair imitation of a lame, caged lion. She deposited some plastic carry-bags on the floor next to the couch and he pounced on them.

‘Thanks. I hate to see you doing all the donkey work. I should be the one unloading the car.’ He moved incautiously and winced.

‘Women have always been quite capable of bringing the shopping in. Oh, and by the way, I checked your oil and tyres, and they both needed attention. You've been neglecting that car of yours, leased or not.’

‘You what?’

‘I checked your oil and tyres.’

He stood gaping at her. ‘You know, you're constantly surprising me. I suppose you couldn't give the car a service while you're at it?’