by Rosie Fiore
‘I found you pretty virile, Dr Wolfson.’ She smiled, hugging him back.
‘Feel free to spread that information around. Maybe tweet it. Or submit a paper on it to a reputable journal.’
‘I’ll get onto it.’
‘Do you know what I’d like to do now, very much indeed? I’d like to sleep with you.’
‘Again?’
‘I mean sleep. I want you to turn on your side so I can wrap my arm around the curve of your waist, and I want to bury my face in your hair and sleep.’
‘It sounds divine, but maybe I should get back to my room…’
‘By all means,’ he said. ‘But I can still hear people laughing and talking in reception. We skipped dinner, and if you emerge from my room, still wearing what you were wearing this afternoon, I think that people – and by people I mean Biddy, world-champion gossip – might notice. I might also point out that your hair isn’t quite as smooth and tidy as it was when you arrived.’
‘You make a good point,’ she said. ‘But I haven’t even got my toothbrush.’
‘To be fair, I think we’ve been intimate enough in the last few hours that you could use mine. In fact, it’s an electric one and I have a few spare heads with me, so you don’t even have to do that. You can have your own brand-new one.’
‘Practical and virile. I like that in a man.’
‘Why thank you, ma’am.’
‘One last thing,’ she said. ‘Do you snore?’
‘Like a foghorn, apparently.’
‘Seriously?’
‘No. I don’t think I do, but to be fair, the only living thing to have slept in the same room as me for some time is my cat, Geoffrey.’
‘Your cat is called Geoffrey?’
‘Chaucer, obviously.’
‘Obviously. Well, thank you. I accept your invitation to sleep over,’ she said. ‘I’ll set an alarm and sneak back to my room at about six.’
They got out of bed and went into the bathroom, where they took turns to brush their teeth. It was oddly domestic and companionable. As they got back into bed, he turned to her as he snuggled down in the pillows. ‘I forgot to ask you. Do you snore?’
‘Like a St Bernard with sinus problems,’ she said, lying down beside him. ‘Too late, though, I’m staying now.’
They woke before Esther’s alarm went off, and in the grey light of dawn, made love again, slowly and deliciously. She reluctantly dragged herself out of bed and found her clothes, which were strewn across the floor. He lay in bed and watched her dress.
‘There’s a small possibility I might not make it to breakfast,’ he said. ‘I might need a little lie-in. Just to get my strength up.’
‘Lazy,’ said Esther briskly. ‘I’m going back to my room to get changed and go for a run now.’
‘Oh Lord. Are you one of those perky morning people?’
‘The perkiest.’
‘Well, that might need some negotiation.’ He smiled up at her as she came over to kiss him goodbye. ‘I need very gentle handling when I wake up.’
She did her best to tidy her hair with her fingers – she had neither a comb nor a brush and Michael’s hair was cropped so short, he required neither. Then she scooped up her handbag, blew him a kiss and slipped out into the deserted corridor. She hurried across the foyer – mercifully whoever was supposed to be at the desk was in a back office somewhere – and made it back to her own room without encountering anyone.
She plugged in her phone, stripped off her crumpled clothes and crawled into her neatly made bed. She’d get up and go for a run in a minute. What a delicious, glorious and unforgettable night. She relived a few choice moments and smiled. Then she thought about what Michael had said about mornings, and her euphoria faded slightly. It had been an incredible night, but this was not real life. Big hotel beds, room service, no commitments – it was a million miles from her tightly scheduled day-to-day existence. How many long nights would she and Michael get to spend together? How many lazy mornings in bed would they have? There was no way she could have a man sleep over when Lucie was in the house. And with the changes in Stephen’s home life, Lucie might be more reluctant to go and see her dad. Michael had swept her along with his certainty, but how long would it take for his patience to become exhausted? These were uncharted waters, and she was far from sure that they could make it work.
They had fallen asleep late the previous night, and she had slept relatively fitfully – it had been a very long time since she had shared a bed with anyone. Her bed was so comfortable, she found herself dozing off. She should get up. Even if she didn’t run, she needed to shower, wash her hair, make herself look respectable. She would get up, any minute now. She would just close her eyes for a minute… Just a minute…
It was the chambermaid’s knock that woke her, and as soon as she heard it and opened her eyes, she saw the bright mid-morning sunlight streaming in through the curtains. She looked at the clock on the TV. Ten o’clock. She’d slept through breakfast and the first session. ‘Still here!’ she yelled, and mercifully the chambermaid apologized and withdrew. She jumped out of bed, gathered up her hastily discarded clothes and headed for the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from her room, freshly showered and with her wet hair neatly pulled back in a twist. The first talk had just ended, and everyone was having coffee before the breakout sessions. She slipped in quietly and made for the coffee table. She was starving, but breakfast was long finished. She’d have to fill up on biscuits and fruit and hang on for lunch. She had a cup of coffee and was stacking ginger nuts and rich tea biscuits on her saucer when Biddy came over.
‘Morning,’ she said. ‘You all right? We missed you at dinner last night, and I didn’t see you this morning either.’
‘Hmm? Oh, I was feeling a bit under the weather,’ said Esther. ‘I slept in this morning. I feel a bit better now.’
‘Not food poisoning or anything?’ asked Biddy. ‘Only Michael says he thinks he had something dodgy at lunch yesterday. He wasn’t around last night either.’
‘Oh no, nothing like that. Just… hay fever.’ She couldn’t resist looking over Biddy’s shoulder and, sure enough, Michael was standing just behind her, smiling cheekily.
‘Hay fever?’ he said, with mock concern. ‘That must have stopped you running this morning.’
‘It did. I was so tired from all the… sneezing, I ended up having a little lie-down instead.’
‘Well, that’s best. It’s the best remedy. For sneezing.’
‘I’ve always sworn by Piriton,’ said Biddy. ‘And locally sourced honey.’
‘Locally sourced honey?’ Esther focused intently on Biddy and refused to catch Michael’s eye. ‘I must try that.’
‘Me too,’ said Michael. ‘I do like my honey.’
This time she did look at him; his smile, while cheeky, was so tender and affectionate, it made her a little wobbly.
They had two more nights at the conference – two long, delicious nights, plus one wicked, knee-trembling quickie just inside Esther’s room door in the coffee break on the last afternoon. But then it was time to go home to their real lives. Many of the delegates left on the final night, but Esther was booked on a morning train. She left Michael’s room at six and went back to her own to pack. They had breakfast together in the almost empty restaurant and then went to check out.
‘Are you sure I can’t drive you home?’ Michael said, for the umpteenth time.
‘Really, don’t worry. It’s miles out of your way, and I’m going straight from the station to work and then on to collect Lucie from school.’
‘It would mean I’d get another couple of hours with you though.’
‘You’re going to see me at the weekend. Besides, I like the idea of you missing me a little bit.’
‘I shall miss you more than a little bit.’
‘And I you,’ she said. She wanted so much to slip into his arms and hold him, but there were still a few delegates around. She contented hers
elf with taking his hand briefly and stroking the skin inside his wrist. ‘I miss you already.’
The person in front of them finished checking out, and Esther stepped up to the desk to hand in her key card. As she was doing so, Biddy came out of her room dragging her case. ‘Either of you headed to the station?’ she asked.
‘I am,’ said Esther.
‘Well, I’ll be your minibus buddy then,’ said Biddy.
Esther took her case and stepped off to one side, while Michael and Biddy checked out. They all left the reception area together, and Michael waited with them outside the front door until the hotel minibus pulled up to take them to the station. He kissed Biddy on the cheek and wished her well on her journey. She climbed into the bus. Esther took his hand briefly. Looking into his eyes, she felt her own fill with tears. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye, and the urge to hold him was very strong indeed.
‘Bye,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll ring you as soon as I can, when I’m home.’
‘Bye, my lovely,’ he said, and kissed her cheek very softly, very sweetly.
Esther turned to get into the minibus, desperately blinking back tears, but Biddy was leaning forward, blocking the doorway. ‘For the love of God,’ she said brusquely, her Scottish accent particularly strong, ‘kiss the man properly. He’s going to expire if you don’t.’
Michael caught Esther’s hand, pulled her back to him and kissed her soundly. Biddy and the minibus driver applauded, and Esther, blushing and still crying a little, climbed into the bus.
As they drove off up the long, sweeping driveway, Esther stared out of the window. She could see Michael walking to his car, but they soon rounded a bend and he was out of sight.
‘It took you two long enough to find each other,’ Biddy said behind her. ‘That’s a very good man there. Don’t let him go.’
‘I don’t intend to,’ said Esther.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
She got back to London and went straight to work. She barely had the chance to go through her emails before it was time to leave and go and collect Lucie. It felt as if she had been away for weeks – so much had changed in those few days. She was heading for the stairs, Oyster card in hand, when the principal emerged from his office. ‘Esther!’ he called cheerfully. ‘Good conference?’
‘Very good,’ she said, smiling.
‘Did you do some good networking?’
‘I believe so. I think I made some useful connections.’
‘Well, I look forward to reading your report on it.’ The principal smiled broadly and set off towards the common room.
She grinned at his retreating back. She hoped that in her distracted state she had managed to make some halfway coherent notes and collect some business cards. She may not have given the conference her full attention, but one thing she had learned about was social media. There had been an excellent seminar on the value of university social media accounts and especially personal accounts for academics.
Esther had a Facebook account, which she had set up to keep in touch with friends who were scattered across the world. She used it cautiously and infrequently. She knew nothing about Twitter, Instagram or any of the other platforms, however. The bright young fellow who had given the session had taken them all through the process of setting up a Twitter account. ‘It’s an excellent way to connect with others in your field,’ he’d said. ‘And it’s also an easy way for students and prospective students to connect with you in real time.’
Esther had wondered why an abbreviated 140-character message was more ‘real-time’ than a phone call, but she knew better than to raise her hand and ask. She duly set up her account, followed, on the instructor’s suggestion, everyone else in the room, and set a reminder in her electronic diary to log on at least once a week. Well, at least she could put that in her report to the principal, she thought. She had to have something to show for the four days away, and she was fairly sure that ‘I have a new boyfriend’ wasn’t going to win the principal over.
I have a new boyfriend, she thought. How very odd. It seemed an enormous shift, but at the same time it made such perfect sense. Michael was gentle and sexy and she fancied him rotten, and being with him felt as comfortable as if they had been together for years. Now, if she could just find a way to ease him into her day-to-day life, and into Lucie’s life too.
When she emerged from the Tube station near home, her phone pinged with a text.
‘I haven’t seen you for six whole hours,’ it said. ‘I’ll have you know, you’ve turned me into a drippy, moping, teenage boy. Please can I take you and Lucie out for an ice cream tomorrow? I think I can just about hang on until then to see you.’
She grinned from ear to ear as she walked up the hill from the station towards Lucie’s school. She had a couple of minutes in hand, and she stopped outside the school gates to reply to the text.
‘I miss you too. I’ll run it past Lucie. I can’t make you any promises, but I would say frozen yoghurt rather than ice cream might just swing the deal.’
She had thought long and hard on the train journey home about how best to handle telling Lucie about Michael, and she had decided that (close to) total honesty was the best policy. Lucie came bounding out of school with Rebecca and seemed genuinely happy to see her. She gave Esther a warm hug and looped her arm through hers as they walked home.
‘How was your conference?’
‘Good. The hotel was very posh. I’ve brought home all the miniature soaps and shampoos for you.’
‘Fab,’ said Lucie. ‘I love tiny soaps.’
‘I know. I even kept some little pots of jam and honey for you from the breakfast buffet.’
‘Honestly, Mum, you’re a proper hotel kleptomaniac. You didn’t steal any towels, did you?’
‘No… although I was very tempted by the lovely robes.’
‘What are you like? I can’t let you out on your own.’
‘Probably not,’ said Esther cheerfully.
‘So, did you manage to have any fun?’
‘I… did.’ They were just passing the café on the corner of their road. ‘Why don’t we go in and have a hot chocolate and I’ll tell you all about it?’
She chose her words carefully, but she told Lucie that she had met up with an old friend at the conference. She spent some time explaining who Michael was, and Lucie said she thought she remembered meeting him, although she would only have been around six or seven when he had last been around.
‘We’ve found that we… really like each other, and we would like to start dating,’ Esther said.
‘Is he married?’
‘No!’ said Esther, shocked. ‘He was, but he’s divorced. I would never date someone who’s married.’
‘Just checking,’ said Lucie. ‘I know lots of adults aren’t that fussy.’
‘I’m fussy. Anyway, he’s asked if he could take us out tomorrow. So he can meet you again, and you can meet him.’
‘Wow, that’s moving a bit fast, isn’t it? You only just met each other.’
‘Well, I think if you’ve been friends before, things can move a bit faster. Because you already know the person.’
‘Has he got children?’
‘Two boys, Oliver and Luke. They’re away at university.’
‘So we wouldn’t all be going out together, having an awkward stepchildren date.’ Lucie was smiling and didn’t seem upset, so Esther smiled back.
‘I think we’re some way from people being stepchildren, my lovely.’
‘We could end up like the Brady Bunch though.’
‘But with better hair.’
‘That’s true.’
‘So… will you? Meet him tomorrow?’
‘Sure,’ said Lucie, looking remarkably unconcerned. ‘He’s not going to be all smarmy and condescending and treat me like I’m six years old, though, is he? And you’re not going to get all kissy-face?’
‘I promise not to get kissy-face, and Michael’s not a condescending person at all. Also, he knows you’
re not six, and I’m sure he’ll behave properly. If he doesn’t, I’ll kick him.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘I suggested frozen yoghurt. He’s paying.’
‘Well, that changes everything. I like him already.’
And, remarkably, she did. He was wonderful with her. He listened to her, took her opinions seriously and never talked down to her. He teased Esther gently, and was funny, easy and kind. They went to Lucie’s favourite frozen yoghurt shop, and he encouraged her to have a bowl with two scoops and all the toppings. Afterwards, they all went for a walk in the park, and Lucie chatted so easily and warmly, Esther dared to hope it might all work out. Michael, ever sensitive, stayed with them for exactly an hour and a half, then regretfully looked at his watch.
‘I’d better get back home, before the M25 turns into a car park.’
‘Why don’t you come to our house for dinner?’ Lucie said impulsively.
Surprised, Esther and Michael looked at one another.
‘That would be lovely,’ he said. ‘Really lovely. But I’m going to say no, for today. If your mum would like to invite me for another evening, I’d be very happy to say yes.’
‘Mum?’ said Lucie pleadingly. ‘Tell him to come tonight.’
Esther looked into Michael’s warm, chocolate-brown eyes. She knew he was doing the right thing – this first meeting had been a great success, and he wanted to quit while he was ahead. But she would so love to have him sitting in her kitchen, maybe staying till after Lucie had gone to bed, when they could be alone and could touch each other…
It took all her strength to say, ‘Michael’s right. You’ve got homework to do tonight, and we’re going out with Sally tomorrow. Maybe Michael could come up one night in the week? If he had a day when he wasn’t too busy…’
‘Tuesday,’ said Michael eagerly. ‘Tuesday would be ideal.’
‘It’s a date,’ said Esther. And when Lucie spontaneously kissed Michael on the cheek when they parted, she felt almost impossibly optimistic.
