The Perfect Present

by Karen Swan

  Laura froze.

  ‘If I’d known you were this reckless, I’d have given you a Laura Ashley voucher instead,’ Rob said, throwing one leg over the bench and straddling it beside her.

  She looked up, the sight of him making her heart beat even faster than the Alpine drop. Really nobody should be that handsome. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious? I’m watching you.’

  ‘How did you know I was h— Oh.’ She gave an embarrassed smile. Of course he wasn’t out here because of her. They were staying at the chalet.

  But he lifted her chin with his finger, turning her to face him. ‘Jack and Fee told me.’ His eyes danced over her skin, making her shiver.

  ‘You went to my house?’ she croaked.

  ‘They were very welcoming. And helpful. They explained a lot. Clearly you weren’t going to – at least not about your own life. Mine, on the other hand . . .’ He gave a rueful laugh.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Rob.’

  He looked down momentarily. ‘Don’t be. You simply helped make a decision that had previously seemed impossible actually very easy indeed. I knew that everything was built on lies; I just hadn’t appreciated the full extent.’

  Laura could see the toll the past few months had taken on him. His eyes looked tired and reddened, and he was pale, although he hadn’t shaved, which she always thought was an improvement. ‘The affair with Alex starting up after Ben, for example.’

  Laura swallowed. ‘Did you understand about your charm?’ she asked cautiously. What if he’d missed her inference?

  ‘You mean a cuckoo’s egg in my nest? Yes, I got it, although not immediately. It was only later, when we were going to bed and the pills fell out of her dress, that I realized what she was doing,’ he nodded. ‘But why didn’t you tell me directly?’

  ‘I didn’t know if you wanted to hear it. You had so much hope. If you could accept the affair, maybe you could accept that . . .’ She shrugged. ‘And besides, Cat threatened to tell everyone we were . . . you know.’

  ‘Sleeping together?’ Just hearing the words come from his lips made her blush, and his eyes held hers so that all she could do was nod. His hand found hers and he smiled. ‘How can you be trembling, sitting here with me, when you’ve just bombed down that mountain?’

  ‘This is much more scary,’ she mumbled.

  ‘For you, maybe. You didn’t have to stand by and watch you jump cliffs on a one-one gradient. Have you got any idea what you did to me?’

  ‘Taught you not to set me dares?’

  ‘Can’t you be trusted, then?’ She saw the excitement flicker in his eyes.

  ‘I’ve never turned one down yet.’

  He stared at her, his eyes searching hers. ‘And now I know why. It was your mother who told you never to shy away from trying new experiences.’ He leaned back to reach into his trouser pocket and pulled out a silver charm bracelet, tarnished with age. He saw the emotion rise in her face as she saw it out here.

  ‘Fee gave it to me to bring to you – she said the matching bracelets were your mother’s final gifts to you and Lily. She said that after Lily died, you wouldn’t wear yours.’

  ‘I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t bear being reminded of what I wasn’t.’ She shook her head quickly. ‘It made my life too big. It was what Mum wanted for us – she was such a free spirit. But after I lost Lily too, I couldn’t bear to feel so much any more. My heart couldn’t take it.’

  He raised a hand and gently stroked her cheek. She let herself tilt into him.

  ‘Fee showed me the letter. She’s talked me through it,’ he murmured, examining the bracelet. He held up a charm of a silver book. ‘I know, for example, that this represents Roald Dahl. Your mother wanted you to read all his books. She said his was the only imagination that could actually match a child’s capacity to create and dream.’

  Laura blinked at him.

  ‘This spanner was to tell you to learn how to change a wheel, the rolling pin for you to learn how to make a basic shortcrust pastry – both essential life skills. She wanted you to be capable and independent.’ He moved the bracelet round on his palm. Laura’s eyes watched every charm as closely as a mother guarding her young. ‘This halo – she wanted you to see the aurora borealis. She said it was the closest you’d ever get to seeing heaven from earth.’ He looked at her. ‘Have you?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Then I’ll take you. We’ll see it together.’ He looked back at the charm, deliberately ignoring her surprise. ‘This rabbit signified that you should have pets – your mother thought it was a way for children to express love, especially those children who’d experienced loss.’

  ‘She was right,’ Laura murmured.

  ‘This flag was to encourage you to learn a language, so that you could make your way in the world. The Aga was for you to make a home . . . and this matchstick denotes the story of the little match girl and the freedom to live – or die – on your terms.’

  He turned the bracelet round again as he continued his tour of the bracelet – her life.

  ‘The balloon and the starfish she had a saying for: “Brush the floor and sweep the sky.” I’m guessing that’s what the balloon safari and gap-year diving project were all about?’

  ‘Mum wanted us to go to the very tops and bottoms of the world. She thought we’d feel most alive at the extremes of human experience. Lily and I did one of them every year.’

  ‘Like paragliding?’

  Laura nodded.

  Rob stared at her. ‘You mother sounds an amazing woman.’

  ‘She was,’ Laura said, nodding, her eyes instantly filling with tears again – she had put her emotions on the line too many times today – when suddenly she felt Rob’s kisses falling like rain on her eyelids, her temples, her jaw, her nose, her mouth . . . He pulled away, but only enough to look at her as though checking she was real. His hands stroked her cheeks, and she felt his love colour her up, making her heart swell and her soul relax.

  ‘Found you,’ he whispered, looking at her with keen intensity. ‘To anyone else, this bracelet is a hieroglyph, but it tells me everything I wanted to know about you. Thanks to your mother, I’ve got the guidebook on Laura Cunningham.’ He shook the bracelet lightly so that it jingled in his hand. ‘There’s just one thing missing.’

  Laura looked up at him. ‘What?’

  He pulled something from his other pocket and placed it flat in his palm. It was a tiny red enamelled shoe. Carefully he attached it to a link on the bracelet. ‘I asked Fee about the red shoe thing – she told me it’s what you were doing together the day Lily died.’

  Laura was silent for a moment. ‘She was going to a party. She wanted a pair so badly to go with her dress. I’ve never been able to look at a pair since without thinking of her. It was the last time we ever laughed together.’

  He smoothed her hair, cupping her cheek with his hand. ‘So, then – this is to signify remembrance.’ This time, as the tears fell, he slid her along the bench into him, kissing her hair and enclosing his arms around her until she could look at him again.

  He fastened the bracelet on her wrist – a mother’s hopes and dreams cast in silver to be un-erasable, and her daughters’ for ever. ‘Laura Cunningham,’ Rob murmured. ‘Beloved daughter, devoted sister . . . nymphomaniac girlfriend,’ he grinned.

  ‘You wish!’ she laughed as he caught her in his arms, kissing her again and again and again.

  ‘Oh really?’ His copper eyes bored into hers, devilry dancing in them. ‘Is that a bet?’

  Praise for Karen Swan

  ‘A totally original, witty, sexy and engrossing read’

  Heat

  ‘This glamour-filled read will strike a chord with anyone who’s been betrayed’

  Glamour

  ‘Romantic and sexy – a real treat’

  Tasmina Perry

  ‘This has makeovers, teasing twists, red herrings and episodic adventure in spades, making it a deliciously engrossing
saga’

  Easy Living

  ‘An addictive read’

  Woman

  ‘Funny, clever and superbly spun, this is a cut above most contemporary romances. A hugely uplifting feel-good read’

  Candis

  Also by Karen Swan

  Players

  Prima Donna

  Christmas at Tiffany’s

  The Perfect Present

  Karen Swan began her career in fashion journalism before giving it all up to raise her three children and to pursue her ambition of becoming a writer. She lives in the forest in Sussex, writing her books in a treehouse overlooking the Downs. Her first novel, Players, was published in 2010, followed by Prima Donna. In 2011 Karen’s third novel, Christmas at Tiffany’s, was a Sunday Times Top Ten Bestseller.

  Visit Karen’s website at www.karenswan.com, follow her on Twitter @KarenSwan1 or find her on Facebook.

  Acknowledgements

  My gorgeous husband, Anders. I say it every time, but it seems to become truer with every book, I couldn’t do what I do without his support. Calm, tolerant, wise, he’s a rubbish editor – far too kind to me – but it’s always his opinion I seek. May he never leave me for one of my characters.

  My three beautiful children, who put up with me saying, ‘I’m on deadline!’ every time they want me to play football in the garden and haven’t yet put me up for adoption – in spite of the threats. All the love in the prologue is inspired by them.

  My mum for being my touchstone in everything and ringing me every morning, cup of tea in hand and ear ready.

  Sally, Mhairi and Muirne for inspiring the last scene in the last chapter; Rebecca O’Connor for giving me a camel to work with – yep, he’s alive and well and living in Sussex; Camilla Fenning for her red shoe wisdom; Tamson Martin for her beautiful cat-like eyes; Carole Bennett for canine inspiration; Aunty Flora for keeping sales buoyant in Scotland; and any friend who hasn’t dumped me while I’ve gone to ground on this book.

  And most of all, my editor, Jenny Geras, and agent, Amanda Preston, for keeping the wheels on with this one!

  First published 2012 by Macmillan

  This electronic edition published 2012 by Macmillan

  an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited

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  ISBN 978-1-4472-1981-1 EPUB

  Copyright © Karen Swan 2012

  The right of Karen Swan to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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