Summer of Love (43 page)

Sian had watched her father give Gus a drink, produce crisps, and they both sat down, watching each other with that wary look dogs have when they can’t decide whether or not they’d win if they started a fight. Sian didn’t know what had got into her father. He could be a little old-fashioned and fathers were often very protective of their daughters but he wasn’t usually quite so confrontational.

‘So, you’re an explorer, I gather?’ said Sian’s father, forcing himself to be polite.

‘Yes, which is why I was totally impossible to contact.’ Gus smiled in Sian’s direction. ‘We’ve already had the row about “why she didn’t tell me”. I completely understand how you must feel about it though.’

Sian’s father looked into his glass. ‘Hmm, well, I suppose if she didn’t tell you, I can’t blame you for not knowing.’

‘And Gus is brilliant with Rory, Dad. You should see them together,’ Sian said from the sofa, willing her father to leave Gus alone. None of this was his fault. She’d been as much to blame as he had.

Her father took a big sip of his drink. ‘Well, if Rory approves, there’s not much I can say, is there?’

‘I want to reassure you,’ said Gus, ‘I’m determined to be the very best father to our son that it’s possible to be.’

Sian suddenly wished she had a drink. She needed something to wash down the lump in her throat. She thought she spotted her father looking a bit teary too, although she wasn’t sure if he’d quite forgiven Gus yet.

Thankfully her mother returned, insisting that Sian be carried up to bed and left, to rest, alone. She’d bring her some supper on a tray later. Gus dutifully carried Sian upstairs with Penny leading the way and Stuart muttering ‘be carefuls’ behind. Once Sian was safely in bed, Penny shooed the men out of the room. Sian suddenly panicked. Her son! ‘What about Rory? I must ring Fiona.’

‘It’s all right, darling, I’ve rung Fiona, and they’re having a lovely time,’ Penny said, patting Sian’s hand. As she tucked the duvet round the rest of her daughter, leaving her injured ankle safely on top, she whispered that she’d keep the peace downstairs.

Now, the morning after, Sian heard a knock on her old bedroom door and Gus came in holding a mug of tea. He put it on the little table beside her and went to open the curtains.

‘How’s the invalid? Sleep well?’

Sian struggled to sit up and took the mug Gus handed to her. ‘I feel exhausted! What a day we had. How are you? How did you sleep?’

‘Fine.’ He paused. ‘We went to bed quite late. Your dad and I got talking.’

This was a relief. However much she loved her father, Sian would have found it difficult and very annoying if he and Gus hadn’t got on.

‘Yes,’ Gus continued. ‘We got through quite a lot of whisky. He does pour big measures, your dad.’

‘But he’s forgiven you for making me pregnant?’ Sian asked anxiously. She couldn’t bear her father to hold a grudge. She loved them both dearly and she wanted them to get on – more than get on – but her father could be so stubborn sometimes. He might refuse to see the good in Gus.

‘Think so. From what he said, I don’t think he ever really blamed me. He just needed to hear both sides, hear it from me, properly. And be sure I wasn’t going to leave you in the lurch again – not that I did it deliberately last time, but … Anyway, it’s natural to be suspicious of your only daughter’s partner.’ Carefully he sat down on the end of the bed. ‘I can’t imagine how I’d be if our daughter was being pestered by someone I thought was a bit off.’

‘“Our daughter”,’ Sian repeated. ‘Do you think there will be one?’ She smiled.

‘Well, I’d like that,’ he said, taking her hand and gently stroking it. ‘On the other hand, another boy would be good too. I’d love to be involved with a child right from the beginning.’ He grinned. After a slight pause he said, ‘Your mum is so lovely. She’s a brilliant granny.’

‘And so’s Fiona!’

‘I rang Mum, by the way. Rory’s fine. They do get on very well.’

‘Yes. We’re very lucky.’ She sipped her tea. ‘My parents though, they’re going to want me to stay but I want to get back as soon as possible. Will you back me up?’

He gave her a long, lingering look that made Sian’s stomach flutter and her breath quicken. ‘Well, I do have a lot of very good reasons to want you in your own home.’ Then he leant forward and kissed her, and as if acting independently his hands cupped her breasts.

Fortunately he pulled away after some minutes. Sian felt she had neither the physical or moral strength to stop what was going to end up as much more than a kiss.

‘You’re absolutely right. It’s essential you get home absolutely as soon as possible.’ He was slightly breathless too. ‘But only if your ankle is up to it.’ He stood up. ‘Get out of bed. See if you can put it on the floor.’

With him helping her, she eased herself out of bed and very carefully tested her foot. ‘It’s not up to any weight-bearing but I’m sure I could get home, if you came on the train with me.’ She looked at him. ‘Do you have anything else to do in London? Sorry, I didn’t think to ask.’

‘I’ve got to pick up my stuff from my friend’s flat.’ He looked at the clock on the bedside table. ‘I reckon we could make the eleven o’clock train if I go now.’

Although not happy about it, Sian’s parents accepted that she was well enough to go home with Gus’s support. ‘You won’t do anything silly, will you? Gus can perfectly well pick Rory up from school without you,’ said Penny.

‘And he’s not the complete shower I always assumed he was,’ said her father, his twinkling expression showing he knew his language was a bit ridiculous.

‘Let’s call a cab,’ said Sian, ‘so it’s here when Gus gets back. Or nearly.’

‘I could run you to the station,’ said her father.

‘No,’ said her mother. ‘A cab is quicker. They know the rat runs. Leave it to the professionals.’

Chapter Twenty-Six

Gus insisted on them going first class. ‘You’re injured,’ he said, ‘you need a comfy seat. And I can afford it! I’m about to be a successful author!’

All Sian’s instincts went against this extravagance but once she was seated in her comfortable seat, facing the right direction with a table in front of her, she decided that sometimes instincts were wrong.

‘This is bliss, actually,’ she said.

‘You deserve bliss,’ said Gus. He was sitting next to her to give her maximum leg room, prepared to fight anyone who might want to sit opposite. ‘Don’t argue,’ he added as she opened her mouth to do just that.

‘I really think you should go back to bed. You’ve had a shock. Bed is the best place,’ said Gus when they got home. He helped her out of the cab they’d picked up from the station, unlocked the door and half carried her through.

‘Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve sprained my ankle, not had major surgery.’

‘No, trust me,’ Gus said firmly. ‘I’m an expert on these things. I’m going to put you to bed and then bring us both some lunch.’

‘Oh, so you’re coming to bed too, are you?’ said Sian, suddenly much more enthusiastic about the suggestion.

‘Of course. You’re far too delicate to be left alone.’ He grinned. ‘But as we’ll be having a perfectly innocent lunch up there, I’d better get your order. What would you like in your sandwiches?’

‘I think it’ll be a choice of cheese or cheese. Possibly a tomato if we’re lucky.’

‘My absolute favourite,’ said Gus. ‘Now, let’s get you upstairs.’

He picked her up and staggered up the twisty staircase.

‘So, what would your ideal house be like, then?’ Gus asked a while later. ‘You seem to be rather hung up on details, like marble and fireplaces.’

They were tucked up in bed together eating rather inelegant sandwiches and Sian’s head was resting comfortably on Gus’s shoulder. Sex, Sian decided, was even better when she knew Gus wasn’t going to abandon her shortly afterwards, even if a sprained ankle had made things a bit awkward some of the time. Sian wriggled closer to him. ‘Honestly, if you’re with the right person I don’t think it matters where you live, although I’d prefer there not to be earwigs likely to fall on me.’

He laughed and kissed her hair. ‘But seriously, you’ll need space to paint furniture?’

‘Ideally, yes. And you’ll need an office, if you’re going to write and run a business.’

‘It might take a while before we can find the perfect place.’

‘Of course, but perfection is worth waiting for. Why do you think I’ve hardly looked at a man for nearly six years?’ She smiled up at him.

‘That’s very flattering.’

‘Yes, I shouldn’t have said that really. It’ll make you too pleased with yourself.’

‘I am quite pleased with myself but I still feel foolish for not telling you I loved you. We would have been together for longer.’

‘Lots of men can’t ever say it.’ She kissed his cheek, glad that he hadn’t pointed out she – independent, modern young woman that she was – hadn’t said it either. Kissing her back took a long time.

At about two o’clock, Gus helped Sian into the shower, insisting she couldn’t possibly manage without him getting in too. They were just about out of it again when the argument about picking up Rory began. Sian desperately wanted to be there waiting for him when he came out of school. He’d only just started, she should have been there yesterday; she longed to see him.

Gus’s argument that she could hardly walk and he could easily pick up Rory and bring him straight home wasn’t working.

Then they both realised there was no food in the house and it was agreed that they would take the car to school and then all go to Fiona’s. She would want to know how they had got on at the publishers anyway.

Rory was very excited to see them both, particularly as his mother had an interesting bandage and had to hold on to Gus in order to walk. His eyes kept darting between his parents as he skipped along next to them. He’d obviously picked up on the fact that things between his parents were different today.

‘Annabelle says,’ he began, ‘that mummies and daddies live together most of the time. Will you and Gus live together most of the time, Mummy?’

‘Well, darling—’ Sian started gently.

‘That’s the plan, mate,’ said Gus, cutting to the chase. ‘How do you feel about it?’

‘That’s cool,’ said Rory, nodding thoughtfully. ‘Everyone liked the shelter you built.’ He stopped to put his school bag back on his shoulder. ‘Do I have to call you Dad?’

Sian and Gus looked at each other. ‘It’s up to you, mate,’ said Gus.

‘Do you have to call me Rory?’ he asked.

‘I do!’ Gus was indignant.

‘You call me mate!’

Gus laughed. ‘Well, I expect I’ll call you both.’

Rory seemed disappointed. It seemed there were downsides to Gus turning from friend to Dad. ‘I like it when you call me mate.’

‘And I like it when you call me Gus. Maybe we’ll do both? That OK with you, Mum – Sian?’

‘I’d prefer it if you don’t call me Mum too often, Gus, but if you slip up from time to time I’ll survive.’ She grinned at both her boys. She couldn’t help it. She was so happy. She’d never thought she’d be this happy.

‘Cool!’ Rory ran ahead to the school gate, his mind undoubtedly on the traffic-light biscuits he knew awaited him at Fona’s house.

‘Well, he doesn’t seem too traumatised,’ said Gus as he helped Sian limp along.

‘No. I wonder how it will be for him? Very different, really. I mean, he’s used to my dad but having a man there all the time could be tricky.’ She paused. ‘One of the reasons I didn’t even think about men before was I couldn’t cope with the thought of a stepfather for Rory.’

‘You thought about Richard,’ Gus reminded her.

She nodded. ‘I tried to think about him. I mean, I did think. He seemed like a good solution to a problem, but in the end …’

‘I know the end. And I’m quite happy to be it.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Can we go a bit faster? Rory’s waiting.’

Sian was relieved they could both dismiss Richard so easily, even if she still felt a pang when she thought about their last meeting. But Richard would be far better off with a woman who really loved him. She held on to Gus a little tighter.

When his parents had caught up with him, Rory had another question. ‘If James is still there, can we play chess again?’

‘James? Mum’s friend? Was he there last night?’ asked Gus, frowning as he helped them both into the car.

‘Yes. He’s nice. He bought me a book with little letters in it and taught me to play chess. I told Miss Evans I could play chess and she said I was the only boy in Reception who could!’

‘I’m sure,’ said Sian, feeling proud of her son but wondering exactly how much chess he played and how much he crashed the pieces into each other.

Gus was scowling and it occurred to Sian that he was not too pleased at the idea of Fiona having a friend who stayed the night. She felt a little guilty. She realised she’d been so wrapped up in the dramas going on in her own life that she hadn’t given much thought to Fiona’s love life – or otherwise. Had something been blossoming quietly while she’d been living a melodrama? The more she thought about it the more she thought how lovely it would be if it had. She really liked James. And Fiona deserved someone really nice.

‘Maybe he didn’t stay the night,’ she said diplomatically. ‘After all, Rory would have gone to bed before he would have gone home.’