by Susan Lewis
‘It’s me,’ Susannah told her.
Pats lifted her head, and after deciding she could probably stand upright, she turned away from the loo, dabbing a towel to her mouth. ‘What brought this on?’ Susannah asked suspiciously.
‘It’s travel sickness,’ Pats answered.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I am.’ Then, seeming to realise what Susannah was thinking, ‘I’m on the Pill.’
‘Maybe you forgot to take one.’
Patsy regarded her with menace.
Susannah started to grin. ‘You’d make a wonderful mother,’ she told her.
‘I’m telling you, I’m not pregnant. Apart from being on the Pill, it’s the time of the month.’
Susannah looked dejected.
‘Will you behave!’ Patsy protested. ‘We’ve hardly been an item for five minutes, so it would be a bit rash to be having a baby now.’
Sighing, Susannah said, ‘As someone who’s just learned the hard way what it can mean to jump in too soon, I guess I have to agree. I was just thinking … No, you’re right. It’s way too early for anything like that, but I know you want children, so …’
‘I’m still only thirty-six,’ Pats cried, ‘so don’t write me off yet. It’ll happen when the time’s right, just not yet. Now come on, tell me, what’s going on with you and Michael? You’ve been in this dreamy place for weeks and still no action?’
Susannah had to laugh. ‘Does the romantic poets’ society know what they’re missing in you?’ she wondered.
Patsy grinned. ‘Seriously, what’s really going on? I saw the two of you slip away just now, so what was that about?’
Susannah’s eyebrows arched. ‘As it happens, it was about Alan, but don’t worry, it’s not serious,’ she added when Patsy’s expression darkened. ‘We won’t go into it now, it’s not worth it. What I can tell you, though, is that I mentioned your proposal for the girls, and he’s not entirely opposed to it, but he’s not exactly wild about it either. My guess is it’ll get a more sympathetic hearing from Rita.’
‘Well, it’s a long way from being set in stone,’ Pats reminded her, ‘and it might never happen, but I think Frank’s right, it’s worth exploring. Now, to haul us back on track – what is going on between you and Michael? Anyone with eyes in their head, or romance in their soul, can sense the chemistry between you, so …?’ She spread out her hands in encouragement.
‘I don’t know,’ Susannah said with a sigh. ‘He never actually says anything. We just seem to dance around one another, a little flirtation here, the odd look or suggestion there … I keep thinking maybe he likes me, but doesn’t want to get involved, and maybe I don’t either after everything …’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake,’ Patsy huffed impatiently. ‘How can he not want to be involved with you? Look at you. Unless the man’s gay, or celibate, or gaga, which he clearly isn’t, he’s got to be mad for you, so you have to stop holding back, because I suspect that’s what’s really going on here. He’s just being sensitive to what you’ve been through … No, don’t argue with me. I’m sure I’m right, not that I blame you, because having got it so spectacularly wrong before, I can see that you might be afraid to trust yourself again.’
Susannah swallowed. ‘So what do I do?’
Patsy took a breath to answer, before realising she didn’t have one. ‘I think,’ she said in the end, ‘you have to start trusting him – and that shouldn’t be too difficult when we consider everything he’s done for you. I mean, just letting you be here should be enough to kill off all your self-doubt …’
‘Yes, but …’
‘No buts. Think about it this way. He hasn’t pushed himself on you at all while you’ve been here – he’s seemed to understand very well that you need time and space after what you’ve been through. In my book that proves he’s really valuing you and the chance of a future relationship. Actually, the more I talk about him, the more I’m falling for him myself, except Frank’s a pretty worthy individual with his heart in the right place … Not a lot else, it has to be said, but that’s another story. Back to Michael. You have to admit that he’s really been there for you since everything blew up. Even before that, because he’s the one who changed your life, who really believed in you, and made your dreams come true. Oh God, someone please give me a violin.’
Susannah bubbled with laughter.
‘He really cares for you, my darling,’ Patsy told her with feeling. ‘Anyone can see it. He just needs to know that you’re ready for him to come into your life the way he wants to be in it.’
As a wild surge of nerves coasted through her, Susannah said, ‘Come on, let’s go and rejoin the party. We’ll have plenty of time to talk over the next two weeks.’
A while later, as Pats and Frank strolled amongst the reflecting ponds with Jean-Luc, and Neve and Ellie sat making a fuss of Lola and Binkie, Michael emptied the last of a bottle of champagne into Susannah’s glass, saying, ‘Well, I think the welcome party was a success, do you?’
‘Very much so,’ she told him warmly. ‘It’s incredibly kind of you to have invited them, and to let them stay here, at the manor.’
His eyebrows arched humorously. ‘It’s not as if we’re short of space,’ he said drily. Then, after finishing his drink, ‘I hear Silver’s coming over tomorrow.’
She nodded. ‘Just for the weekend. It’ll be wonderful to ride him more freely, without a crew around us, and the usual stop-start of the action.’
‘Maybe I could join you on one of our horses,’ he suggested.
Her eyes went up to his. ‘I’d love that,’ she replied, probably too eagerly, but the idea of galloping through the dales with him was lighting up every romantic thought in her soul.
He smiled, then went to help Lola into her wheelchair so Binkie could take her back to the Long House.
After kissing both old ladies goodnight, Susannah stood with Michael, watching them weaving a little unsteadily along the path that led over to the stables. She could feel his presence as warmly as the evening sun on her skin. He could almost be touching her, and she was almost leaning back against him. Catching her breath, she gazed out at the surrounding hills, glowing like molten honey at the end of a blisteringly hot day. All her senses were aware of him. It felt as though something invisible was fusing them. She thought his eyes might be on her, but she didn’t look, only continued to drink in the beautiful scenery.
‘I imagine the sunsets here are even more spectacular in winter,’ she said, hardly aware of what she was saying. Then, afraid that might sound as though she was angling to stay on to find out, she said, ‘I’m just thinking about how the mist changes colours and shades and … This is beautiful, but it’s pristine and clear, and sometimes more depth and shadow add so many other dimensions …’ With a hiccup of laughter she said, ‘I wish I knew what I was talking about. It must be the champagne.’ She wanted to turn and look into his eyes, but was afraid to in case her own were too full of feeling.
In the end she felt his hand on her arm, and as he eased her round to face him her breath stopped and her heartbeat started to slow.
He waited for her to look up, and as their eyes met he said, very softly, ‘Will you spend the night here with me?’
As a wave of desire rushed through her, she began to smile at the humour that came into his eyes. Clearly he’d registered their silent audience too, though no one could have heard what had been said. ‘You realise everyone will know?’ she said quietly.
Leaning in a little closer, he said, ‘I’ve a suspicion they’re expecting it.’
She gave a gurgle of laughter, and as he touched the backs of his fingers to her cheek she could only wish that they were already alone.
When finally they were, he drew her into his arms, and as his mouth came to hers, tenderly and brutally, she knew then that all the dreams she’d had of him holding her like this, peeling away her clothes and pressing his body to hers, were going to pale in the dazzling light of reality.
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Published by Arrow Books 2009
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Copyright © Susan Lewis 2008
Susan Lewis has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
First published in Great Britain in 2008 by
Arrow Books
Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road,
London SW1V 2SA
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9780099492351
