Summer of Love (37 page)

He moved to refill her glass, but she stopped him. ‘I’d better not have too much. I have to drive home.’

He put down the bottle and took her hands to ensure he had her full attention. ‘Fiona, I know that you’re worrying but you don’t need to. This flat isn’t huge but there is a second bedroom. I use it as an upstairs office mostly but it has a single bed in there. If you have too much to drink to drive safely, you can have my bed and I’ll sleep there. Just relax.’ He paused. ‘I’ve put clean sheets on, just like I would if my sister was staying.’

‘OK!’ Knowing she could stay over, chastely, was definitely helpful. It meant she didn’t have to get through the whole evening counting alcoholic units in her head. She took quite a large gulp of champagne and relaxed again. James was being so understanding. Just as well she always had moisturiser and make-up in her handbag.

After the asparagus came salmon cooked with pesto and parmesan and new potatoes.

‘You’ll notice that it’s the sort of meal that you can prepare mostly in advance and all the last-minute cooking is very quick and easy,’ said James, pouring some Pinot Grigio into her glass.

‘I just thought it was a nice summery menu,’ said Fiona, who also thought it was just the sort of supper she’d provide for a friend: simple, delicious food that wasn’t too heavy.

‘Good old Delia, is what I say.’

Fiona laughed and relaxed fully. They were just two friends, having supper on a lovely evening. She would stay the night, as she would with any woman friend if she didn’t want to drive home. All that nonsense with the underwear and colouring foam and scissors was just –well – nonsense.

‘A drop more wine?’ asked James a little later.

‘Oh go on, why not?’ Fiona put her knife and fork together. ‘That was absolutely delicious,’ she said. ‘I’m guessing that you made your own pesto.’

He nodded. ‘It’s so easy. At least it is since my sister gave me a food processor for Christmas.’

‘Angus makes lovely pesto with wild garlic leaves,’ Fiona went on. ‘He uses Cheddar instead of parmesan and sunflower seeds instead of pine nuts. It’s delicious.’

‘I’m sure, but it wouldn’t go well with what’s coming next.’

‘Which is what?’

James smiled. The twinkle was back in his eyes and Fiona felt another surge of desire. He got up and took her hand so Fiona got up too. ‘I’m going to take you to bed.’

She didn’t say anything, she just let him lead her back through the little door into the flat. She was still dithering, any minute now she would say: Thanks but no thanks. Then the mental coin flipped again; this time it came down as heads: she did want to sleep with James, very much indeed.

The only light in his bedroom came from a candle he must have lit sometime during the evening. He kissed her once they’d reached the bedroom and as he did so removed her shrug. She kicked off her shoes. He unzipped her dress. She suddenly wanted to have all her clothes off, very quickly, and feel his skin against hers.

Glimmers of worry did penetrate her passion. Supposing her body had forgotten what to do? Supposing it was all too late? It had been years and years since she’d last made love. And yet somehow her fingers flew down his shirt buttons and her hands smoothed against his skin as she put her arms around him.

Her underwear didn’t get much appreciation, she realised, as it was shrugged off and they were both naked and lying on the bed.

Quite a while later she said, ‘My goodness, you are good at this, aren’t you?’

James, who was panting, lay back on the pillow and laughed. ‘You are an amazing and very wonderful woman.’

She sighed ecstatically as she flopped back next to him, pulling the sheet up over her breasts. ‘You did all the hard stuff, I just … went along for the ride.’ She giggled. ‘Please be a gentleman and ignore the pun.’

He leaned up on one elbow and kissed the top of her cleavage, which was just visible. ‘I’ll be a gentleman and bring you a drink. Wine? Tea? Water?’

‘Water, I think. That would be lovely.’

‘And maybe pudding?’

She sat up a little bit. ‘I thought that was pudding.’

He developed a rueful expression. ‘No, that was an inter-course …’

She threw a pillow at him.

‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. You set it up for me. I’ll go and get it. Water and crème brûlée.’

A little later, while they were sitting in bed eating their pudding, she said, ‘I was really quite worried that I’d have forgotten what to do, and then I realised you don’t actually have to remember.’

‘If you were making it up as you went along, you did a very good job.’ He took away her empty ramekin and spoon.

‘I was so worried. Just the thought of – well – you know.’

‘I knew you were worried. I hope I didn’t make you anxious.’

‘You did make me anxious but it somehow made it all the more exciting. And lovely.’

‘I’m very glad to hear it. I was anxious too.’

‘I’m surprised. You seemed – very assured.’

‘You made me feel like that. Fancying you as much as I do made it easy.’

She chuckled. ‘Well, who’d have thought it, two old people like us having an amazing time in bed together.’

‘I have to confess I have been thinking about it, almost from the first time I met you.’

‘That’s such a blissful thing to say. When you’re a pillow of the local community—’

‘Don’t you mean pillar?’

She chuckled. ‘I suppose I did, but pillow seemed more appropriate in the circumstances. But as I was saying, I’m a good woman, I do church flowers, make cakes …’

‘Have dinner parties.’

‘Sometimes. And although I tried the internet dating thing, I didn’t expect to have sex again.’

‘Did you mind the thought of not having sex again?’

‘Yes, because it’s an important part of life, but I was perfectly resigned to it.’ She frowned a little. ‘I just wish my darling son and Sian could realise that and get on and sort out their relationship.’

‘So, would you like to do it again?’

‘Have sex again? What, now?’ Fiona was a little shocked – and tired.

James laughed. ‘No, not now. I’m not as young as I was, but in the future? The near future?’

‘Oh yes.’ Then she was overcome by a pang of guilt. ‘But I don’t want to get married. You don’t, do you? I mean, I know it goes against my image, but I don’t want to disrupt my life …’ Her voice trailed off as she realised she’d just made a rather huge leap, from sex to marriage in one enormous bound. But things felt so instinctively right with James that it was hard not to think of him as someone who could become a very permanent fixture in her life.

Luckily James smiled. ‘It’s all right. I’d like it if we were a proper couple, could do things together and stay in each other’s houses, but I don’t want to get married again.’

‘It’s just that I’m suddenly worried,’ Fiona explained.

‘Why? What have I said to worry you?’

‘Angus! And Russell – that’s his brother. What will they think about their mother—’

‘Pillow of the community—’

‘Having a shit-hot lover?’

James began to laugh until tears emerged from between his eyelids. ‘I’m sorry, that just got to me. I’m an antiquarian book-dealer. I don’t really see myself as a shit-hot lover.’

‘No, but I do! I wouldn’t usually use a word like that, but it seemed appropriate.’

‘Are you really worried about what they’ll think? Angus and I got on well at your dinner party.’

‘I know, but boys and their mums … you know what they’re like. And I messed them up terribly before.’

‘But you’re not getting married this time and they’re adults anyway.’

‘I don’t think you’re ever adult enough to be happy with the thought of your parents having a sex life. Sex is only ever for one’s own generation, don’t you think?’

‘To be honest, I’d never really considered it.’

‘I probably worry too much.’

‘I’m sure you do, and I’m perfectly happy to just be a friend who stays over—’

‘In my bed!’

‘Yes. After all, your house is so small, you couldn’t possibly find room for me anywhere else.’

She punched him gently on the arm and then snuggled down and put her head on his chest, hearing his heart go thump, thump, thump under her ear. ‘Let’s not think about it now.’

He kissed her shoulder. ‘No. But I would like you to know that I not only fancy you, very much indeed, I think I’m also in love with you.’

Fiona drove home in a cloud of bliss. Because of James having to open the shop at ten, their morning had to come to an end, but James had gone on being the perfect lover throughout. He’d lent her a shirt to sleep in, brought her tea and croissants in bed and later, run her a bath. They’d kissed like teenagers before she left and they planned to see each other again, very soon.

When she got home she found Angus in the kitchen, staring at the wall, still looking like a thunder cloud with depression. Her own happiness gave her insight: sometimes you had to sacrifice your honour and break a promise. If she had the opportunity, she’d sort out Sian and Angus. She couldn’t stand by and watch them ruin their lives.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Quite why Sian had suggested the Boca Loca as a place to have lunch with Richard, she didn’t know. The trouble was, when he’d rung she’d been a bit distracted and just said the first name that came into her head when he asked where she wanted to go. Now, parking where Jody had parked when they had all gone to the pizza place, she felt she must have been mad to suggest it. She spent every waking moment trying to forget Gus, and the place where she’d seen him with Melissa was rubbing salt into a very tender wound.

She spotted Richard already seated at a table, reading a newspaper. He’d obviously got here early, but somehow his over-promptness irritated rather than cheered her. She made her way over to the table, trying not to feel like a lamb going to slaughter.

Richard saw her and smiled, rising to greet her.

‘Hi, Princess,’ he said and kissed her cheek.

Calling her Princess seemed to be a new thing of his, and Sian wasn’t sure she liked it. ‘Hello, Richard.’ She couldn’t quite bring herself to call him Prince.

He pulled a chair out for her and she sat down.

‘So, cocktails?’ he asked. ‘Or shall we just have wine with lunch?’

‘Just a spritzer or something for me. I’m driving.’

‘Well,’ he perused the menu. ‘You could have a virgin cocktail.’

‘Without alcohol? That would be nice. Choose me something.’ For some reason being with Richard always sapped her energy, perhaps because she felt she had to work at making him happy, and making herself feel happy with him. Or perhaps it was the ever-present guilt. Often she wished she could go back to how they had been before, just friends, before she’d more or less told him she’d move in with him; but then they’d never really been just friends – not as far as Richard was concerned.

They sat opposite each other, Richard gazing across at her adoringly while she thought up something to say. Why was it all such an effort?

‘Rory’s started bringing reading books home from school. He’s very good at reading,’ she said, deciding to keep to talk about Rory. Rory was a safe topic.

‘That’s because you’ve always read to him. You’re a very good mother, Sian. And I hope you might like more children.’ He put his hand protectively on hers.

She looked into his eyes for a minute and saw all his yearning for children. She knew he’d be a brilliant father, not only to a boy like Rory, but to babies, toddlers, even difficult, constantly demanding children.

She did want more children, probably. Because Rory took up so much of her time she didn’t think about it often, but she was far too young to give up thinking about babies altogether. Giving Richard a child would be the best reward for him. If she did that, she could stop feeling guilty. Her debt would be paid. But how horribly clinical that sounded – even to her.

‘Hmm?’ Gently he squeezed the hand he was holding and Sian realised she hadn’t replied.

‘Oh yes, I would like more children,’ she said, smiling, ‘but let’s have lunch first, shall we?’ She wanted to steer the conversation away from anything too deep and meaningful. She wasn’t ready. She ignored the little voice that was nagging away inside her saying, ‘You’ll never be ready.’

Richard laughed. ‘Of course, it’s early days and we haven’t set the date for you to move in with me, have we?’

‘I just don’t think we should rush things. It will be a big change for everyone, us being a couple.’

‘I know, but the sooner the better, surely. Rory needs a proper family, now he’s at school.’ He obviously saw Sian stiffen. ‘I know you’ve been a family, you and Rory, with your parents helping out, but I mean a proper family, mother and father living under one roof. And being married, preferably.’

Sian put on an expression she hoped looked willing and attractive, and fiddled with her cutlery to give herself time. She realised now what a very conventional person Richard was at heart and how much of this aspect of his character he was willing to suppress for her. It wouldn’t have been hard for him to find a nice, unattached, unencumbered girl to marry, who would have loved him wholeheartedly. He really was a very good man, but everything he was saying made her want to sink further down in her seat. It’s not that she couldn’t appreciate how much he was offering her, how much he loved and wanted her – it just all felt so suffocating.