by Jessica Hart
Lucy felt it too. Try as she might not to notice him, all her senses were on alert the moment he stepped out of the lift. It seemed incredible now that she had once dismissed him as lazy and a lightweight. How could she not have noticed the charisma of the man in Australia? The older members of the board might be resistant to his charms, but to the staff of Dangerfield & Dunn Guy was a hero.
Lucy understood why they admired him, but when she looked at him now, she didn’t just see the successful banker with an inclusive approach and a thoughtful word for the least significant of his staff. She saw the lonely child with the elder brother who seemed to give his parents everything they needed. She saw the boy dreaming of being a rodeo rider, the young man kicking against convention, the surfer on the crest of a wave, the wind in his hair and the sun in his eyes. The man who had given up his freedom because he didn’t want to let his father down.
The man who walked past her now as if she had never kissed him on the quayside, had never held his hand in the dark.
‘I’ll probably never hear from him again,’ she told Meg. ‘Anyway, it’s Friday. Why don’t I get another bottle?’
CHAPTER SIX
GUY rang the next day. ‘Have I got you at a bad time?’ he said.
‘Er…no…I’m just buying some shoes.’ Lucy had answered the phone without thinking, assuming that it would be Meg arranging where to meet for lunch, and the sound of his voice set her heart thumping wildly against her ribs. Her knees felt suddenly, ridiculously, weak too, and she sat down abruptly on the nearest stool, oblivious to the shoppers around her.
‘Not glass slippers, by any chance?’
‘No.’ Lucy looked down at the shoes on her feet. They were a practical black, the heel sturdier and not as high as Meg’s turquoise shoes, but they had an elegant shape and Lucy loved the floppy bow they boasted. ‘Some sensible shoes to wear to work.’
‘Sensible? That doesn’t sound like you, Cinders,’ said Guy, the old laugh back in his voice, and she could picture him with alarming clarity, holding the phone to his ear, the blue eyes dancing, his cheek creasing with his smile.
‘You challenged me to change,’ she pointed out. ‘Maybe I have changed enough to invest in comfortable shoes.’
‘I’ll know when I see them,’ he said.
Lucy took a breath and made herself sound brisk. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘My mother is at home and in urgent need of distraction,’ he said, getting down to business. ‘You did say once that you’d be prepared to talk to her about Wirrindago one day.’
‘I remember.’ It wasn’t too much to spend a couple of hours distracting an elderly lady from her pain, Lucy thought. ‘Did you want to arrange a time for me to go round?’
‘I don’t suppose you could make tomorrow afternoon?’ said Guy hopefully.
‘I said I would go and see Richard in the evening, but around teatime would be fine.’
Meg was delighted to hear that Guy had insisted on coming to pick Lucy up. ‘I can’t wait to meet him,’ she said excitedly. ‘What are you going to wear?’
‘It’s not a date, Meg. I’m just going to have tea with his mother.’
‘Yes, and how many guys-if you’ll excuse the pun-introduce you to their mothers unless they’re really interested?’ retorted Meg. ‘You could wear your new shoes.’
But Lucy was determined not to make an effort. That would suggest that she was excited at the thought of seeing Guy again and treating it like a date, when she was just a cook from Wirrindago going to have tea with his mother. So she put on her old jeans and a T-shirt, and if the pale blue cardigan she threw over the top happened to be her softest and most flattering one, that was just because it was the first one to hand and certainly not because she had chosen it specially.
Guy was driving himself this time and turned up in-what else?-a Porsche that made Meg’s eyes pop as she peered through the front window. Annoyingly, he had managed to park right outside the house. ‘Ooh, he must be seriously rich to have one of those.’ Meg whistled, impressed. ‘If you don’t want him, Lucy, can I have him?’ She hurried to the door. ‘I’ll go and let him in.’
Lucy was left, desperately trying to get her breathing under control. In the hallway she could hear Guy charming Meg, and the sound of his voice sent the butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy. Anyone would think that she was nervous, she chastised herself as she got to her feet, appalled to find that her legs were doing a passable imitation of jelly. It was only Guy, she reminded herself sternly. There had been a time when she couldn’t have cared less if Meg was flirting with him.
Then Guy appeared in the doorway and instantly every particle of oxygen was sucked from the air, and it seemed to Lucy that her heart actually stopped for a moment. His presence in the tiny room was overwhelming and his smile was like a jolt of adrenalin, setting every cell in her body on high alert.
Desperately, Lucy forced her lungs back into working mode. Breathe in, breathe out. Remember?
‘Hi,’ she said.
Fortunately Guy didn’t seem to notice that her voice was all over the place. It was amazing how much wavering up and down the register you could fit into such a short word. Thank goodness she hadn’t tried anything longer, like good afternoon.
‘Show me your new shoes,’ he said. ‘I want to see how much you’ve changed.’
He studied them with interest when Lucy reappeared in the shoes. ‘What do you think?’ she asked, pointing her toes.
‘Very nice.’ Guy glanced up at her and smiled, and Lucy’s heart duly performed a breathless somersault. Pathetic.
‘I’ve been borrowing Meg’s shoes, but they’ve all got such high heels that I could barely walk by the end of the week,’ she told him, horribly afraid that she was babbling but unable to stop it. ‘I thought I should buy some of my own, so I took your advice and asked for a small advance on my salary.’
For some reason it seemed important to let him know that she wasn’t relying on her friend more than she had to. She hadn’t forgotten his comment about the way she let everyone else look after her. ‘That way I don’t have to keep borrowing off Meg.’
She had put some money aside already to pay Meg rent for her room too, although she knew that her friend would insist that it wasn’t necessary. What with buying shoes and taking control of finances, really, she was turning into Susan Sensible.
‘I could only afford one pair, so I had to get shoes that went with everything.’ Lucy regarded them dubiously. ‘Black isn’t as much fun as other colours, but it’s more practical, I suppose.’
Guy’s eyes gleamed as he inspected them. ‘You’ve done well, Cinders. You’ve managed to buy sensible shoes that are sexy at the same time. I like the bows too. They show a sense of fun.’ He looked back up at Lucy. ‘I’d say these shoes still have a lot of you in them, though. That sensible side is new, but the rest of it is still definitely you. You’ve changed, but not too much. That’s good.’
A blush crept up Lucy’s cheeks and she sat down abruptly, bending her head to hide her face as she made a big deal of pulling off the shoes and shoving her feet into her faithful trainers instead. Hoping her normal colour would have returned by then, she stood up. ‘We’d better go,’ she said.
‘So, how is your challenge going?’ asked Guy as he manoeuvred the car out of the tight parking space. ‘I hear reception is a very different place since you’ve been working there.’
Was that good or bad? Lucy wondered. ‘I like my job,’ she admitted cautiously. ‘More than I thought I would. And everyone is very friendly.’
He glanced at her as he waited to turn into the main road. ‘That’s what they say about you, too.’
‘Me?’ she said blankly.
‘I understand you’ve set up a counselling service in reception?’
Lucy flushed slightly. ‘Oh, that was just someone who seemed very upset when she arrived. Her boyfriend had dumped her without warning, and she was obviously in a state. We rang up to her de
partment to say that she’d been a bit delayed and I made her a coffee and let her talk for a bit until she calmed down-but it was only for a few minutes,’ she told Guy in case he thought she had been wasting company time. ‘And Imogen was on the desk all the time.’
‘I’m not angry with you-far from it,’ he said. ‘She wouldn’t have been able to concentrate if she’d spent the day bottling up her feelings and, as it was, she managed a meeting with me and the head of her department. She told me afterwards that you’d really helped her.’
‘I didn’t do anything,’ said Lucy uncomfortably. ‘I just listened.’
‘Sometimes that’s all the help you need,’ said Guy. ‘Sometimes all you want is a friendly smile when you come in the door, or someone who can see what needs to be done and gets on with it without waiting to be told.’ He smiled at her as they drew up to some traffic lights and he put the car into neutral gear. ‘You’re doing a good job.’
Lucy actually blushed. ‘I didn’t think you really noticed us on reception.’
‘I always notice you,’ said Guy.
Bridget Dangerfield lived in an enormous house in Belgravia with a white stucco front. ‘It’s much too big for her,’ said Guy as he locked the car. ‘I’ve been trying to persuade her to move but she won’t hear of it.’
He let himself in the imposing front door, calling a ‘hallo’ to announce their arrival, and led Lucy up the stairs to the first floor. Bridget was waiting at the top, leaning on two sticks. She was a handsome woman, tall and shrewd-eyed, and her big hands were adorned with some spectacular diamond rings.
‘You shouldn’t have got up, Ma,’ said Guy, kissing her on the cheek.
‘Of course I need to get up,’ she snapped at him. ‘I’ve never welcomed a guest sitting down and I’m not going to start now. Besides, I’m supposed to be practising getting in and out of my chair.’
She turned her attention to Lucy, eyeing her appraisingly as Guy made the introductions. ‘So you’re Lucy?’ she said. ‘Hmm. Guy was right. You’re very pretty.’
‘Sorry, did I hear that right?’ Guy grinned at his mother, pretending astonishment. ‘Guy was right. I’ve never heard you say that before! Are you feeling quite well, Ma?’
‘I don’t have much cause to say it often,’ she retorted, but Lucy thought there was a hint of a smile in her face.
‘You’d better come in.’ Moving slowly and carefully on her sticks, Bridget led the way into a beautifully furnished drawing room that spanned the entire width of the house. ‘Would you like some tea?’ she asked Lucy.
‘That would be lovely,’ said Lucy. ‘Can I help?’
‘Why don’t I get the tea?’ Guy began, but Bridget rounded on him.
‘I’m not gaga!’ she said irritably. ‘It’s my hips that have been replaced, not my brain or my hands! I’m perfectly capable of boiling a kettle. Lucy can come with me and carry the tray. She’ll probably want to stretch her legs if she’s been trapped in that ridiculous car of yours. It’s-’
‘Far too small and far too fast, I know, Ma.’ Guy grinned affectionately at his mother. It was obviously an old argument. ‘You go and make the tea, then, but no telling Lucy any embarrassing stories about my potty training days, OK?’
He settled himself comfortably on a sofa as Bridget snorted and shook her head.
‘He will fuss,’ she told Lucy as they made their painstaking way to the kitchen. ‘And he’s always interfering. He’s been turning everything upside down while I was in hospital! New chair, new bed, new railings everywhere,’ she grumbled. ‘And then he went and employed a nurse! I soon got rid of her.’
Harrumphing, she indicated that Lucy should fill up the kettle. ‘Anyone would think I was sick!’ she said in outraged tones that held only the faintest hint of her Australian background after so many years in England.
‘I’m sure Guy just wants you to be comfortable,’ said Lucy, who was beginning to think that he had much greater reserves of patience than she had guessed. In spite of her insistence to the contrary, it was clear that his mother couldn’t make the tea and hold on to her sticks without a great deal of difficulty, and in the end it was Lucy who set out the cups and saucers, found the milk and the biscuits and warmed the pot, all under Bridget’s eagle-eyed direction.
‘I suppose he told you this place is too big for me, too,’ said Bridget with a grouchy look.
‘I can see why he might think that you’d be better off somewhere a little more…practical,’ Lucy said cautiously, thinking of all the stairs.
‘I’ve lived here all my married life. I’m not moving. I let Guy put this kitchen in here so I didn’t have to go up and down stairs all the time, but that’s enough and so you can tell Guy.’
Lucy looked up from the teapot, suddenly afraid that she might have got hold of quite the wrong end of the stick. ‘You know that Guy and I aren’t…’ she began awkwardly.
‘Yes, yes, he told me.’ Bridget waved her stick in vague acknowledgement. ‘He said you were practically engaged to a stockman at Wirrindago. He sounds most unsuitable,’ she went on with a stringent look. ‘It’s a hard life as a stockman’s wife, Lucy. You’d be much better off with Guy.’
‘Oh, I don’t…there’s really no question…’ stammered Lucy, horrified in case she had somehow given the wrong impression.
‘You could do worse,’ said Bridget, ignoring her completely. ‘I’m not saying he can’t be a bit silly at times, but no more than any other man. He didn’t have an easy time as a child,’ she said with a quick sidelong glance at Lucy. ‘Guy was one of those boys who always seem to be fine and happy, but you never really know what’s going on in their heads. You think they’re all right, but they’ll tell a joke rather than show their feelings.
‘There are some biscuits in the tin up there,’ she interrupted herself. ‘No, the blue one…Still, Guy’s a good man, and he’d be a good father,’ she told Lucy, who didn’t know what on earth to say. ‘He needs someone to take him seriously, and then maybe he would take himself more seriously, and who knows what he could achieve then?’
‘He’s achieved a lot already,’ Lucy found herself saying as she opened the tin. ‘The staff at Dangerfield & Dunn think he’s wonderful.’
Bridget looked at her with an odd little smile. ‘And you?’
Lucy set out the biscuits on the plate, unable to meet the older woman’s eyes for some reason. ‘I’m just temporary,’ she said.
In the end, the tea was much more relaxed than Lucy had feared. They talked mostly about Wirrindago, a place they all loved. Guy and Lucy might have been there most recently, but it was Bridget who knew the outback best, and Lucy enjoyed listening to her stories, although all the while she was conscious of Guy lounging nearby, of his lazy smile and the glinting humour in his eyes.
Quite unfazed by his mother’s abruptness, he teased her affectionately and made her snort with laughter occasionally. Watching carefully, Lucy noticed that Bridget’s eyes softened when they rested on Guy when she thought that no one was looking. Bridget, she suspected, hid her real feelings behind brusqueness just as her son did behind humour.
‘So, there’s no sign of Hal getting married yet?’ she demanded, shaking her head. ‘He’s as bad as you, Guy. What is he now, thirty-four? Thirty-five? It’s high time he found himself a wife.’
‘Wives aren’t that easy to come by in the outback, Ma.’
‘That’s not an excuse you have,’ Bridget countered. ‘There are plenty of girls in London!’
‘True, but it’s hard to find the right one,’ said Guy.
‘There must be lots of nice girls out there. Look at Lucy here!’
‘Sadly, Lucy is spoken for,’ he said easily. He grinned at Lucy. ‘Don’t tell me she’s been matchmaking again!’
‘I just want you to be happy,’ said Bridget grouchily.
‘I know you do, Ma.’ Guy’s voice was very gentle. ‘But I want what you and Dad had. You wouldn’t really want me to settle for less than that, woul
d you?’
Lucy’s heart twisted as she saw Bridget’s eyes fill with tears. ‘No,’ she muttered, and the hand that lifted her cup shook a little as she tried furiously to blink away the signs of her weakness.
There was a tiny pause. ‘I should go,’ said Lucy tactfully and put down her own cup and saucer. ‘Thank you so much for tea. I’ve really enjoyed it.’
‘It’s been lovely to have you.’ Bridget insisted on struggling out of her chair and on to her sticks to see them to the top of the stairs. ‘Thank you for coming, Lucy. I hope Guy will bring you again-or come on your own!’
‘I’d like that,’ said Lucy sincerely, and on an impulse kissed Bridget on the cheek.
‘Thank you so much, Lucy,’ said Guy as he closed the front door behind them with a heartfelt sigh. ‘You were wonderful. Ma really liked you, I could tell.’
‘I liked her too. She’s quite a character, isn’t she?’
‘And I’m sorry about all the matchmaking,’ he said, although the blue eyes were dancing. ‘She doesn’t usually try and marry guests off to me on their first visit!’
Take it lightly, Lucy told herself. ‘I should be honoured then.’
‘You should indeed.’ He grinned at her as he unlocked the car. ‘I’m afraid you’ve definitely moved to the top of her list! Get in,’ he added. ‘I’ll drive you to the hospital.’
‘I can easily get a bus,’ Lucy began, but it was a pretty feeble effort and she found herself climbing meekly back into the car.
‘It’s the least I can do after today,’ said Guy. ‘I’m not brave enough to tell my mother I let you go off in the bus, and besides, my only alternative is to stay and be lectured about how I should be persuading you to marry me straight away.’ He shook his head as the engine purred into life. ‘I love my mother dearly but sometimes…well, let’s just say she can be a bit trying!’
