‘What is it?’ she said quietly.
‘I’m looking at that painting.’ His voice was thick with emotion. ‘A picture of our past. You had it as a daily reminder, whereas I …’
‘Shhh.’ She leaned back in the circle of his arms, put her finger to his lips. Later, she would tell him how she’d talked Katya into capturing her jumbled impressions on canvas, adjusting and re-adjusting the final result until it was real enough to send shivers down her spine. But not yet. She took his hand and led him into the bedroom, steering a sure path through the shadows to switch on the bedside lamp. And, as it cast its pale-gold glow on to the little table underneath, he glanced at the book that she’d left there.
‘What are you reading?’ He sounded oddly apprehensive – but no wonder, when the title was in Russian!
She smiled up at him. ‘It’s called First Love – what else?’
He smiled back – and it was that special little smile, the one she’d always thought of as reserved for her alone; only now she was absolutely certain about it. And the rightness of it all – of being with him, like this – stung her eyes with tears.
Later, when their bodies locked in an instinctive rhythm, when he whispered ‘Annie’ as a passionate, loving refrain – she knew that, this time, she would never let him go.
It was the same old magic, enriched by a new understanding – that the pain of loss only made the joy of rediscovery more intense.
Downstairs, back home after their evening out, Jenny emerged from the wintry depths of the larder clutching a bottle, which she promptly handed to Tom. ‘You’re nearer the corkscrew, I’ll get the glasses.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Wine – at this time of night? What are we celebrating?’ Then, as he noticed the label, ‘Bloody hell! I thought we were keeping this for Christmas Day?’
‘Christmas has come early – for some people, anyway.’
She fetched the best glasses while he opened the wine. When he placed the bottle on the kitchen table to let it breathe, she shook her head impatiently. ‘Pour it straight out.’
As soon as he’d done so, she raised her glass. ‘To Anna.’
‘To Anna,’ he repeated automatically. Then, with a puzzled frown, ‘Why on earth have we opened a bottle of very expensive Burgundy just to drink to Anna?’
‘All right then – to Anna and the man she’s brought back to her flat.’
‘What? How do you know she’s got a man up there?’
‘You mean apart from hearing a distinctly masculine laugh outside a few minutes ago?’ She allowed herself a smirk of satisfaction. ‘Well, let’s see, there were definitely two of them going up those stairs. Oh – and you know that noisy front door of hers? There was a very long pause between the creak when it opened and the creak when it shut, as if she’d been well and truly distracted. Good job I didn’t oil those hinges after all.’
He sipped his wine – and frowned. She was about to ask if it was corked, when he said anxiously, ‘You’re sure it couldn’t be William? That wouldn’t exactly be something to celebrate.’
‘No way could it be William. You didn’t see her face when I told her what he’d been up to – she was almost relieved.’ Now it was Jenny’s turn to frown. ‘Which means I was completely wrong about the theatre.’
‘The theatre?’
‘Whoever she wanted to impress there with her new dress, it certainly wasn’t William.’
Tom raised his glass a second time. ‘To Anna.’
‘What for now?’
‘For getting the better of you.’ He chuckled. ‘That doesn’t happen very often, does it?’
And Jenny was determined it wouldn’t happen again – at least, not for a while. The next morning, at exactly eight-thirty – she simply couldn’t wait any longer, even though it was a Saturday – she knocked loudly on Anna’s door.
No response. Undeterred, she raised her hand to knock again – and the door opened. She stopped herself just in time from hammering on the tanned, muscular chest in front of her, and looked up.
‘Oh – it’s you,’ she whispered. In her confusion, she lowered her eyes. But the sight of only a pair of boxer shorts – obviously pulled on in a hurry, because they barely covered the necessary – made her gaze flick swiftly upwards again.
‘Sorry, couldn’t find my clothes,’ Rick Wentworth said, not bothering to hide his amusement.
‘Don’t mind me,’ she croaked. ‘Is Anna around?’
‘She’s still asleep. Anything I can help with?’
Jenny recovered her voice at last. ‘I just wondered if she wanted something from the shops?’
‘Possibly – although we’re at my sister’s all day.’ He grinned. ‘I’m meant to be opening her garden centre.’
‘Let’s hope you can find your clothes, then.’ She grinned back. ‘Or maybe not. Get yourself a baseball cap and you’ll look as though you’ve just walked off the cover of your book.’
He laughed. ‘A bit chilly for that. And I’m not sure my sister would be too pleased – today’s all about promoting her business, not my book. Anyway,’ he went on, ‘I’ll tell Anna you called and I’m sure she’ll be in touch.’
Very unlikely, Jenny told herself as she went downstairs. Given what else was on offer, Anna would hardly be thinking about her shopping list.
She found Tom in the kitchen, catching up with the Bath Chronicle over breakfast. ‘Well, I met the mystery man,’ she said, in a deceptively casual tone.
He looked up immediately. ‘And–?’
‘Anna Elliot is a very lucky woman.’
‘So – who is he?’
‘Rick Wentworth.’ She watched his forehead crease in surprise. ‘Just one teeny-weeny problem, of course,’ she added, glumly. ‘He lives on the other side of the world.’
Bliss, utter bliss. To wake up and know that love was only a touch away.
Anna shut her eyes to the dull morning light edging round the curtains, and stretched out her hand. Instantly, his fingers curled around hers; and she wondered if he’d been lying awake, waiting …
She opened her eyes. He was sitting next to her, on top of the duvet; and he’d obviously been up and about, although he wasn’t dressed. ‘Come back to bed,’ she whispered.
He let go of her hand, but only to trace her mouth with the tip of his finger. ‘Wish I could,’ he said, gently, ‘but I’ve got a garden centre to open.’
The bed gave a soft groan as he got up, and she turned away. Love was no longer a touch away – and that was reality, wasn’t it? Other things crowded in; and love, if it was a wise love, made room for them. But she couldn’t help a little niggle of disappointment.
And then – his weight on the bed again, nearer now, right behind her; his body warming hers, and his voice in her ear, low and caressing. ‘I love you.’
She rolled over to face him, blinking back the tears. ‘I love you, too. And I don’t want you to go.’
‘To Uppercross? Aren’t you coming with me?’
‘I mean back to Australia, next week.’
He let out a long, ragged breath. ‘I’ve already decided to cancel my flight – I’ll make some phone calls first thing Monday.’ A grave look, burdened with déjà vu. ‘This time, I’ll do whatever you want.’
‘No.’ She gave an emphatic shake of her head. ‘This time, we’ll work out what’s best for both of us.’
Silence, as he gazed down at her; then his mouth relaxed into a grin. ‘As long as it doesn’t involve living with your father, or either of your sisters.’ He glanced across at the desk. ‘Or having a computer in our bedroom.’
She pulled him close, laughing. ‘Getting picky, aren’t we, Dr Wentworth?’
‘Oh, I’ve always been picky – particularly about the love of my life.’ A lingering kiss. ‘But now I need to call Dave, or we’ll be late. Although I know Sophie and Ed will let me off when they see you.’
‘Mmmm.’ Anna wished she shared his confidence. Judging by that embarrassing discussion
with Sophie and Ed in the Pump Room, she’d be the last person they were expecting Rick to turn up with.
But then Rick saw things very much in black and white, she reflected, as she listened to his phone conversation with Dave. He was brief to the point of being abrupt, and totally focused on the matter in hand – getting Dave to pick them up in forty minutes. Whereas her phone call to Jenny a little while later, while Rick was in the shower, was the opposite of brief and focused. She was unusually nervous as she dialled the number; sharing this part of her past was uncharted territory.
She needn’t have worried – Jenny’s voice was warm with approval. ‘Well, you’re a dark horse! I got the shock of my life when I knocked on your door this morning and he appeared.’
Anna giggled. ‘He’s just told me you called. About the shopping, I haven’t got a clue–’
‘Don’t worry, it was the best excuse I could think of to find out who you’d brought home.’
‘Look, Rick and I–’ Anna hesitated, then rushed on, ‘It’s not what you think.’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous!’ Jenny said in mock despair. ‘If it’s not what I think, if you’ve had that man in your flat all night and done nothing with him, then you’re a disgrace to womankind.’
Anna refused to be drawn on that particular subject, however. ‘What I mean is – this isn’t something sudden. Rick and I met a long time ago and, to cut a long story short, things didn’t work out. But now–’
‘But now everything’s going to be wonderful?’ Jenny put in, dryly. ‘All I can say is – you like making life difficult, don’t you? You couldn’t have chosen a longer-distance relationship if you’d tried – apart from dating an astronaut. Still, I’m sure you’ll either tell me to mind my own business or come out with something cheesy, like “Love will find a way”.’
Anna bit her lip. ‘No, I won’t, because you’re right – our biggest problem is how to be together. We need to talk through the options, so he’s not going back to Australia next week after all.’ As she said the words, she realised she was grinning from ear to ear.
‘I’m glad to hear it. Why don’t you come to lunch tomorrow, so that Tom can meet him?’
The grin widened, if that was possible. ‘I can’t think of anything nicer.’
‘If that’s true,’ Jenny said, with an exasperated sigh, ‘then you’ve got a very limited imagination.’
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Rick held Anna’s hand at every opportunity – outside on the pavement while they waited for Dave, then in the back of the car, and even at the hotel when they called to collect his things. Holding hands had the advantage, he decided, of making explanations about their relationship unnecessary. And, just as important, it felt bloody great.
Dave made no comment when he saw them; but he broke his usual habit and turned on the car radio – more for their privacy, Rick guessed, than his own entertainment. On their many journeys together, he’d always preferred talking to listening.
Ben, on the other hand, ran down the front steps of the hotel and greeted them with a whoop of delight. ‘So I was right! I told Charles last night there was something going on, but of course I couldn’t prove it. And d’you know what? He bet me fifty quid that Anna wouldn’t be interested in a shark wrestler! Pity he was drunk at the time – he’ll probably deny all knowledge.’
A quick handshake and a rash promise to visit Ben and Megan the following week were all they had time for. When they’d picked up Rick’s luggage and were in the car again, Anna said quietly, ‘How long can you stay in England?’
He looked down at her small hand, safe and warm in his. ‘A couple of months. I’m on sabbatical now, but I need to be back at university in early January for what we call the summer session.’ He hesitated and looked up. ‘What are your plans for Christmas?’
Her face clouded. ‘I usually go to Mona and Charles, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’
‘No,’ he said softly, ‘it’s not. Will you come away with me instead?’
‘Yes.’
‘Somewhere like the north of Scotland, or the depths of Wales, where we don’t need to bother about anyone else?’
‘Yes!’
He felt he corners of his mouth quirk in a tense little smile. ‘On honeymoon?’
‘Oh, Rick …’ She leaned over and brushed her lips against his.
Still that tense smile; trusting himself didn’t come naturally – yet. ‘Will you marry me, Anna?’
‘Yes. Did you doubt it?’ She kissed him – properly this time – and he felt again that rush of exhilaration at being with her; then she drew back, waited for their breathing to steady, and said, ‘But after Christmas?’
He said simply, ‘I’ll have to go back to Melbourne, even if it’s just to hand in my resignation.’
Her eyes blazed. ‘No – that would be like throwing away all your research!’ She frowned in concentration, her mind pursuing a glimmer of coherent thought. ‘Look, you have to be in southern Australia to do your work – but I don’t have to be in Bath to do mine. At least, not next term. I’ll have exam papers to mark, which I can do anywhere, and they’ve always said I could take time off from teaching to turn my PhD into a book. So, if I give them enough notice, I’m sure I’ll be able to go to Melbourne with you in January.’ She paused, and looked down at their joined hands. ‘It’s just – I don’t know if I could bear to be so far away from Kellynch. The place,’ she added hurriedly, ‘not the people in it.’
‘It needn’t be for long, we could come back here towards the end of February – I’ve got a week’s break. After that …’ He sighed. ‘As you said earlier, we’ll work out what’s best for both of us.’
She nodded. ‘The main thing is that we’re together – right?’
His hand tightened round hers. ‘For now, that’s more than enough.’
‘Told you he’d be here on time,’ Ed said, as they watched a black Jaguar swing through the gates of the garden centre.
Sophie turned away from the office window and allowed her shoulders to relax – but not her voice. ‘By the skin of his teeth!’ she ground out.
‘Fifteen minutes to spare, actually,’ Ed corrected her good-naturedly.
She pretended he hadn’t spoken. ‘I’ve been trying his mobile for the last hour, but he’s got it switched off! It’s just not good enough, he could easily have called to say he was on his way.’
‘Don’t think so – looks like he’s had his hands – pretty full.’
Oh God, Sophie thought, suddenly contrite, what was up with Ed? He sounded short of breath, as if … She whirled round, and discovered him struggling not to laugh. Before she could demand an explanation, however, a movement in the yard caught her eye. She glanced out of the window again – and her jaw dropped.
There was her brother, large as life, helping a woman out of the back of the car. Nothing odd about that; he could act the gentleman as well as anyone – when it suited him. But this was a man transformed – brimming over with a happy-to-be-alive energy, the Rick she’d last glimpsed when they were much younger. And the woman … the woman was none other than Anna Elliot!
She saw them give their driver a friendly wave, then link hands and amble towards the shop as if they had all the time in the world. People overtook them, turning round for a second look and nudging each other, and in the distance a few press cameras clicked; but Rick and Anna seemed oblivious.
At the entrance to the shop, Rick paused beside Sophie’s pride and joy – a large display of evergreen foliage and silk rosebuds in vibrant jewel colours. An appealing alternative, she hoped, to the potted poinsettias and holly wreaths that people usually bought to decorate their homes at Christmas. She’d spent many hours – and a vast amount of money – sourcing and arranging them to her satisfaction.
Now she watched her brother pluck a deep-red bloom from the very centre of the stand and present it to Anna.
‘Right, that’s done it!’ Grim-faced again, she rushed out of the of
fice – leaving Ed to follow at an extremely safe distance.
It was like being in a dream, a beautiful, never-ending dream, where everything Rick said and did showed her how much he loved her.
He tucked the silk rosebud in the top buttonhole of her coat. ‘When we’re back in Bath, I’ll buy you real ones.’
She gazed up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. ‘And scatter the petals across our bed?’
He laughed – and it was his bedroom laugh, deep and rich and unhurried. ‘Keep on looking at me like that, and I’ll get Dave to drive us home right now.’
‘Over my dead body!’ a voice snapped behind them; Sophie, as Anna had never heard her before – almost hoarse with anger.
Rick turned towards her, smiling serenely. ‘Good morning to you, too, Soph.’ Then, eyebrows raised in astonishment, ‘What’s the matter? You didn’t honestly think I’d go off without opening your garden centre, did you?’
Anna risked a look at Sophie and immediately regretted it; she was the image of her brother at his most hostile.
‘Frederick,’ Sophie said coldly, ‘put that back at once. You’ve ruined my display!’
Until now, Anna had barely registered the stand of flowers and foliage a few feet away, with its uniform swaths of colour. Oh God, Sophie was right; the small hole Rick had made in the middle drew the eye like a magnet and completely spoiled the overall effect. She gasped an apology, took the rosebud out of her buttonhole and put it carefully back in its place.
‘Thank you.’ Sophie sounded as if she was thawing to her usual friendly self; but a moment later she iced over again. ‘And another thing, Frederick – how can you do this to Anna?’
‘Do what?’ Rick said, blankly.
And Anna, recalling that conversation in the Pump Room, finally understood Sophie’s anger. She may have left Sophie in no doubt of her feelings for Rick – but had he ever given his sister any hint that those feelings were mutual?
She tugged at his sleeve. ‘Sophie doesn’t know about our … history, does she? So she’s worried that I’m just a time-filler until you go back to Australia.’
Persuade Me Page 29
