by Susan Lewis
Finally, with their hands linked on the table, and the candlelight flickering in the breeze, he murmured softly, ‘I’m going to pop down to the car, and I reckon by the time I come back we could be about ready for dessert, don’t you?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Would that be a euphemism, by any chance?’
‘If you want it to be.’
Her head went to one side as she considered it. ‘You go to the car,’ she told him, ‘and while you’re gone I’ll serve up the real thing.’
He grinned. ‘Tell me that’s a euphemism,’ he challenged.
‘You’ll find out when you come back.’
By the time he returned she had arranged more candles around the bedroom and turned on the speaker to allow Roberta Flack’s haunting voice to diffuse more romance into the air. The windows were open, the lapping sound of the river drifted in; the bed was low, and scattered with big downy pillows. On one of the nightstands was a strawberry and chocolate dessert.
‘Is this real enough for sir?’ she asked, as he came to find her.
His eyes were dark with emotion as he gazed down at her, lying amongst the pillows in a cream silk slip and tiny diamond pendant. The candlelight bathed her skin in a warm, amber glow, the scent of lilies perfumed the air around her. ‘There’s just one thing missing,’ he told her, and pulled a bottle of Crystal from behind his back.
Loving the surprise, she watched as he opened it, and was about to suggest she get glasses when the cork exploded and the expensive champagne cascaded all over her.
Shrieking with laughter, she rolled out of the way, and continued to laugh as he sank down beside her, trapped her to the bed with one arm, and began to drink from the bottle. ‘Now you,’ he said, putting it to her lips.
As she tilted it up he started to lick the champagne from her neck and shoulders. She fell back on to the pillows, loving the feel of his tongue. Lifting his head he gazed down into her eyes, then lowered his mouth to hers for a deliciously long kiss, before he returned to her neck and began moving slowly, tantalizingly, towards the champagne-soaked silk covering her breasts.
‘Mm,’ he murmured, raising his head and licking his lips. ‘You sure taste good.’
‘Take off your clothes,’ she whispered.
His eyebrows went up. ‘What kind of restaurant is this?’ he challenged.
‘You’re about to find out,’ and she reached for the dessert.
*
It was just after seven in the morning when Sherry woke up to the sound of birds singing and the shower running. Frowning, she looked at the clock, then groaned out loud as she turned on to her back. It had been a long time since she’d last made love, so his passion had left her tender and bruised, and the wine and champagne weren’t helping her head. She smiled warmly to herself, though, as she recalled how closely he’d held her, how loving and attentive he had been, as well as playful and demanding. It had been even more beautiful than she remembered, or dared hope, and now she wanted to do it all over again.
Wandering into the bathroom she started to clean her teeth, while watching his reflection in the shower.
‘Good morning,’ he said, stepping out and wrapping a towel round his waist. ‘Did I wake you?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she answered, meeting his eyes in the mirror as he came to embrace her from behind.
Taking the toothbrush, he began cleaning her teeth for her, until turning her face he put his mouth over hers and kissed her slowly, sensuously, letting his hands move to her breasts.
‘Mm,’ she murmured, removing his towel. ‘I think we should go back to bed, don’t you?’
He grimaced an apology. ‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘I promised Julia I’d be home by eight.’
Her astonishment broke out in a laugh. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, reaching for her robe. ‘Are you saying you told her you were spending the night here? With me?’
‘I said I might be, if you were willing.’ He was using her toothbrush now to clean his own teeth.
She wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. ‘So you’ve told her about me?’ she said, realizing how much it would please her if he had.
‘Not in any real detail,’ he confessed. ‘We met, remember, while I was still with her mother. So I told her you’re someone who’s been a friend for some time, and who I’m now getting to know a bit better.’ Replacing her toothbrush, he leaned down to kiss her again.
Though she kissed him back, she was feeling vaguely let down by his answer, for it had a slightly jarring ring of truth about it – or at least of how it had been for him.
‘Tell me,’ she said, as he started to dry himself, ‘you do remember that we made love before? That we were more than just friends?’
His eyes twinkled. ‘Sure I remember,’ he replied. ‘But I’ve got to tell you, last night was the best.’
Another answer that maybe should have pleased her, but didn’t.
‘How was it for you?’ he teased.
‘Oh, definitely the best,’ she assured him, and went to turn on the shower.
A few minutes later, as she was in the middle of shampooing her hair, he pulled open the shower door.
‘I have to run,’ he said. ‘I’ll call you later,’ and touching his fingers first to his lips, then to her thigh, he winked, and slid the door closed again.
Though a part of her was trying to be euphoric, another part was having more success with confusion. There was no doubt that it had been a wonderful evening, or that their lovemaking had been utter bliss, but something was out of kilter, she felt, though try as she might, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on what.
Then, once again, just like the few other times she’d seen him, or spoken to him on the phone, she began falling prey to feelings of edginess and unease. This time, however, it was worse, because she’d been so sure that once they’d made love all her niggling doubts would simply evaporate in the afterglow of togetherness.
By the time she went into the kitchen to put on some coffee she was feeling so down that she didn’t even pick up the phone when it rang – until she heard his voice on the machine, when she snatched it up.
‘Hi, are you missing me?’ he said.
‘Mm, I think it’s just starting to kick in,’ she responded, hugging the receiver in close to her neck. ‘How about you?’
‘I can’t stop thinking about you.’
Smiling she said, ‘Where are you now?’
‘Somewhere between you and Highgate. Closer to Highgate. I had a wonderful evening.’
‘Me too.’
‘What are you doing for the rest of the day?’
With a small leap of hope that he was going to suggest getting together, she said, ‘Nothing much. Just meeting Laurie for lunch and doing some more online research, actually trawling porn sites, would you believe? Saturdays are always pretty quiet. Well, Sundays too, come to that.’
‘Lucky you,’ he commented.
‘Why don’t you come and join us for lunch,’ she suggested. ‘Laurie’s dying to meet you.’
‘I’d like to meet her too,’ he replied. ‘But I’m in the hands of a jet-lagged thirteen-year-old today.’
Disappointed, despite knowing that would be his answer, she said, ‘Do you have anything special planned, the two of you?’
‘Not really. I know there was some talk about the movies tonight, maybe a bit of shopping this afternoon. We’ll see when I get home.’
‘Well, whatever you do, have fun,’ she said.
‘I’ll try. I’ll call again later.’
After she’d rung off she went back to the kitchen, definitely buoyed by the call, though knowing she’d have been happier if she’d been included in a trip to the movies tonight. But his daughter had only been here two days, she needed time to settle in, get used to being with her father, and catch up with her cousins whom apparently she hadn’t seen since she was eight. It was all quite a big deal for the girl really, which Sherry fully understood, even though she had to confess to b
eing a tiny bit jealous of all the time she was going to get to spend with Nick. However, knowing how much it meant to him, and totally understanding a daughter’s possessiveness of her father, she decided that now might be a good time to heed some of Dear Molly’s advice not to rush things, let them happen in their own time, and stop trying to create problems where there really were none.
Chapter Fourteen
A WEEK LATER Nick was heading into Davey’s, the pub-style restaurant on Fisherman’s Walk, when he spotted Elliot sitting at a window table, and went over to greet him.
‘Why don’t you join me?’ Elliot said. ‘I’m waiting for Laurie, but she’s not due till one.’
Deciding he could always duck out when Laurie arrived, Nick offered to top up Elliot’s drink, and went to get one for himself.
Thanks to Elliot’s obvious distraction, the conversation got off to an awkward start, though for a while it settled into a fluent discussion about an editorial in that morning’s Times, of interest to them both, since it concerned US foreign policy. Elliot was extremely knowledgeable on the subject, which was no surprise to Nick, but though he seemed perfectly in tune with what he was saying, Nick couldn’t help noticing how restless his eyes were, constantly glancing across to West India Quay, or at the door when someone came in. It didn’t take a genius to work out that this lunch with Laurie wasn’t one he was looking forward to.
After a while the conversation started to falter again. Nick watched Elliot as he stared out at the passers-by, seeming almost to have forgotten he wasn’t alone. Then his eyes came back to Nick, and realizing they’d stopped talking, he said, ‘Sorry. What were we saying?’
‘No need to apologize,’ Nick assured him. ‘I can leave you to it, if you prefer.’
Elliot had just started to respond when his phone cut him off.
It was hard for Nick not to listen when he was sitting right there at the table, and it soon became clear, from the tone of voice as much as the words, that it was the new girlfriend.
‘Yes, I’m here now,’ Elliot was saying softly, slightly averting his head. ‘You know I do. Yes, even now.’ He paused, then started to smile. A moment later he was serious again. ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be. I’ll call when I get back to the flat.’
As he rang off he looked up, and from the way his face paled, Nick guessed that Laurie must have arrived. Elliot stood up. Nick turned round, and one look at the beautiful young blonde staring at Elliot with such bleak, haunted eyes was enough to make him wish with all his soul that he could be anywhere else on the planet right now.
‘Hi,’ he heard Elliot murmur as he pulled her into an embrace. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she answered.
Her gaze moved to Nick as he got up.
He smiled and held out a hand to shake. ‘Nick van Zant,’ he told her. ‘I guess you must be Laurie.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ she replied, with a smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes. ‘Is Sherry joining us?’
‘No. I was … just passing. Probably time I was going.’
‘Please don’t leave on my account.’
‘Stay and finish your drink,’ Elliot insisted.
Not sure how to refuse, Nick sat down again, and watched as Laurie slid past Elliot to sit on the chair next to him.
‘What’ll you have to drink?’ Elliot asked her.
‘A lemonade.’ She looked at Nick again and tried another smile.
‘I’ll get it,’ Nick said. ‘Same again for you?’ and hardly giving Elliot time to reply he took off to the bar.
To his dismay, when he returned to the table, the tension seemed to have increased.
‘So,’ he said to Laurie, trying to keep it nice and light, ‘Sherry’s been telling me about the story you’re working on together.’
‘Oh yes, she’s being incredibly helpful,’ she replied. For a moment it didn’t seem she was going to say any more, but then she continued. ‘Did she tell you about the trafficking agency the crew in India has tracked down?’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Are you using us as a back-up?’ Elliot asked her, referring to his own team of researchers.
‘No,’ she answered, looking at her drink. ‘I thought I should probably get used to not having them any more.’
‘You don’t have to do that. It doesn’t have to change.’
‘Yes it does,’ she responded. She picked up her glass, and looked at Nick. ‘I’m glad Sherry’s discussing the story with you,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid I’m not as much help to her at the moment as I should be.’
‘Actually, I think she’s rather enjoying the challenge,’ he assured her, and might have said more, had he not realized that she wasn’t really listening.
After a while Laurie turned to Elliot and said, ‘How’s the book coming along?’
‘OK,’ he answered. ‘I think the first chapter’s about done.’
She nodded and looked down at her drink.
Silence fell and Nick could hardly have felt more awkward as he sat there struggling for something to say, while remembering being caught in a similar, horrible scenario himself when he and his wife had first started to converse like strangers. It was hell, suddenly not knowing what to say to the person you’d shared so much of your life with, particularly when you were the one who wanted to go on sharing.
To his great relief a photographer he knew well came in through the door at that moment. ‘Ah, there’s Colin,’ he said, getting up a little too fast. ‘I was hoping to run into him. If you’ll excuse me.’
‘It was nice to meet you,’ Laurie said, shaking his hand. ‘I’m sure we’ll meet again.’
‘I hope so,’ he responded, meaning it.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ Elliot told him.
Laurie watched as Nick crossed the bar to join his friend. ‘He seems really nice, doesn’t he?’ she commented, trying to inject some lightness into her voice. ‘Very good-looking.’
Elliot nodded.
‘Did he talk about Sherry at all? Does it seem like he’s serious?’
‘He didn’t mention her.’
There was a short pause which they suddenly both tried to fill.
‘You first,’ she said.
‘No, you,’ he insisted.
‘I was just going to say it’s made such a difference to Sherry, having him back in her life.’ She smiled, awkwardly. ‘It’s quite a romantic story, really, don’t you think?’
‘Mm, I guess so.’
‘All that time, and now they’re back together. Makes you think it was meant to be.’
His eyes came briefly to hers, before moving away again.
‘So what were you going to say?’ she prompted, hating how nervous and withdrawn he was, and trying not to read anything into it.
He shook his head. ‘It’s gone now,’ he replied.
She looked down at her drink, took a sip, and felt a dozen eyes watching her. ‘I wish you’d try a bit harder to make conversation,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘I came because you said you wanted to talk.’
‘Maybe this isn’t the right place.’
‘Well we’re here now.’
He didn’t respond.
‘I’ve got the wedding cancellations ready to send out,’ she told him after a while, hoping the words would hurt him as much as they had her.
More minutes ticked by.
‘So this is us being friends, is it?’ she said, her eyes dark with pain in spite of the tartness in her voice.
‘Laurie, I …’
‘You what?’ she said when he didn’t finish.
He shook his head.
‘For God’s sake,’ she seethed.
She watched him as the muscles in his face tightened, and his hand clenched into a fist. Did it help, knowing that he was hurting too? Maybe, in a way, because it suggested there might be some hope, but then the mere thought of his pain caused hers to increase almost unbearably.
‘I only came today,’ she s
aid, ‘because I thought, hoped, you were going to tell me it wasn’t all over … That you’d had some time to think …’ She broke off as his eyes came up to hers.
‘There’s something … something I have to tell you,’ he said.
Immediately her heartbeat started to slow. Whatever it was, it was serious, she could sense that, and suddenly she didn’t want to know what it was. But what could be worse than the nightmare she was going through now? What could he say that was going to hurt more than anything he’d already said? Maybe he was going to the States for a while, to get away from this, from her. It would be awful, but if it would help him to clear his mind, to sort out what he really wanted, she could bear it. She wondered if it was about Phraxos. Maybe he’d done something during the investigation that was just catching up with him now. She wouldn’t care. She’d stand by him, no matter what. If he went to prison she’d visit him every day, and if she went to prison too, then she’d fight from there to clear their names.
There was so much madness crashing around in her mind that she almost didn’t hear him as he said, ‘I’m seeing Andraya.’
Everything suddenly stopped. She looked at him and blinked. There was no sound beyond the humming in her ears, nothing to see except his face, no breath to take, no words to speak. She couldn’t move, she could hardly even think – until like the delayed thunder of an explosion the meaning of what he’d said began to reach her. She could feel herself starting to shake, because she knew. She’d known since the day she’d seen the story in the paper.
‘So it was true?’ she said, wondering how she managed to get the words out.
He nodded. Her pain was so palpable that he reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.
‘How …?’ She tried again. ‘How long?’
‘Not while we were together. I swear nothing happened until after.’
She looked around helplessly. Did that make it any better? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she couldn’t go any further with this because she was falling apart and people were watching.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I wish to God it hadn’t happened, but when I started to realize how I felt … I couldn’t marry you when I was feeling that way about someone else.’
