A Very Special Proposal

by Josie Metcalfe

  ‘No! That’s not what I meant at all!’ Amy exclaimed sharply, then glanced from one side to the other to realise that they had several interested onlookers listening in to their conversation. ‘Oh, we can’t talk here!’ she said crossly, and tightened her hand around his as she started to tow him out of the mêlée towards the side of the room.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ asked a helpful waiter, when he realised they were heading the wrong way.

  Amy made an exasperated sound that perfectly expressed Zach’s own feelings and gave him an idea.

  ‘Amy, does the charity make any extra money if we actually sit down and eat the meal?’ he asked, and saw her forehead pleat as she pondered the unexpected question.

  ‘Not a penny—unless you were intending buying a large number of raffle tickets!’ she confirmed with a dawning grin that told him she’d followed his train of thought. ‘What d’ya say we blow this joint?’ she demanded in a dreadful Humphrey Bogart impersonation then returned to her normal voice. ‘How do you fancy piping hot fish and chips instead of lukewarm rubber chicken?’

  ‘Is the Friary still open for business?’ He’d spent many months working in the family-owned take-away establishment to earn the money to pay for his bike but hadn’t had time since he’d been back to even find out whether it was still a going concern.

  ‘Of course it is!’ she exclaimed, already hurrying out towards Reception, her strides swift and sure in spite of the impossibly slender heels that brought the top of her head up to the level of his eyes and her lips temptingly, conveniently close. ‘The town wouldn’t be the same without Melvin and Sheila’s special crispy batter.’

  They paused just long enough to retrieve her wrap but it wasn’t until they were standing on the front steps of the hotel with his keys in his hand that she came to a sudden halt.

  ‘Oh, Lord! I forgot!’ she wailed. ‘I can’t go like this!’

  For a moment he was flooded with the echoes of the blind rage that had consumed him fifteen years ago. What on earth had made him think that she’d changed in the interim? He should have known she would rather sit down to a civilised meal in sumptuous surroundings with Jeremy Crosseyes. Once a princess…

  ‘I’m just not dressed to go riding around on a motorbike,’ she continued, oblivious to his excoriating thoughts. ‘I’d have to hike the hem of my dress halfway up my thighs.’

  He laughed aloud. That was what she was worrying about?

  ‘No problem,’ he promised as he dangled the keys in front of her, displaying the car manufacturer’s logo. He forced himself to ignore the vivid images her words had initiated of her skirt hiked far further than halfway up her thighs and those thighs wrapped tightly around his hips, or he’d disgrace himself in public. ‘I didn’t use the bike this evening.’

  ‘Afraid you’d arrive with your teeth full of flies?’ she teased as she followed him down the shallow steps to the gleaming car parked just a few feet away. ‘Wow! This is rather swish! How fast does she go?’

  ‘She obeys the speed limit all the way to the fish and chip shop,’ he said firmly as he held the door open for her.

  ‘Spoilsport!’ She laughed up into his face and he had to tighten his grip on the door or he would have given in to the urge to taste the sweet curve of those lips.

  He forced himself to concentrate on the fact that she was spoiled enough to be willing to risk the safety of other road users just for the thrill of speed, and could feel the frown darkening his face by the time he joined her in the cushioned luxury of the car.

  ‘Hey, I was only asking how fast she could go, not asking you to break the limit,’ she pointed out as he put the key in the ignition and started the engine with a refined purr. ‘We both see enough of what happens when people ignore the rules.’

  He sighed and dropped his head, unaccountably angry that he couldn’t find something unappealing enough about the woman to counter the irresistible attraction he felt for her. If he wasn’t careful, he was in danger of having history repeating itself.

  ‘Sorry. I was…’ He shrugged, totally unable to put his scrambled thoughts into words.

  ‘Trying to put up barriers between us?’ she suggested sharply, and he discovered that her brain hadn’t lost any of the edge that had forced him to strive ever harder to keep up when they’d first known each other. She’d certainly put her finger on his feelings.

  ‘Not that I blame you, after my father’s display of bad manners,’ she added, much to his surprise. ‘It was totally inexcusable for him to—’

  ‘To try to protect his little princess from the nasty commoner?’ he suggested, the memory of that long-ago confrontation hardly faded at all, despite the fact it had happened fifteen years ago.

  He saw the flash of anger in her eyes in spite of the low level of light in the car.

  ‘I’m far too old to need my father’s protection,’ she said through gritted teeth, ‘and as for seeing you as a nasty commoner…’

  He already knew the answer to that—it was one of his more vivid memories from that disastrous summer. Neither did he believe that her father was ready to let her live her own life yet.

  Suddenly, he was tired of the way something that couldn’t be changed was having such an effect on what was happening now. He’d actually been enjoying the way they seemed to be able to pick up each other’s thoughts. It had reminded him of the way they’d worked together as study partners, the two of them almost unbeatable…not that he’d ever received any of the praise. Their teachers had automatically assumed that he was merely hanging on to her coattails to get through his exams.

  Did they have too much history between them to ever be able to form some sort of workable relationship? Perhaps sharing a meal in the front of his car would give them the answer.

  ‘Cod, plaice, haddock or skate?’ he listed in a sing-song voice, almost as he had when he’d worked at the Friary. ‘And will that be standard or a large portion of chips?’

  He breathed a silent sigh of relief when she chuckled.

  ‘No, don’t tell me,’ he warned before she could say anything. ‘You’ll want plaice with a small portion of chips with salt but no vinegar.’

  ‘You’re guessing!’ she exclaimed in disbelief. ‘You can’t possibly remember what I used to order fifteen years ago!’

  He remembered far more than that, he admitted silently as he drew up in front of his old place of work and glanced across at her, sitting there in all her finery, right down to the way her skin had felt when he’d brushed against it and the sweetly vanilla scent of it.

  ‘Next question—do you want to go in to eat, or get a takeaway?’

  ‘We’re slightly overdressed for it, aren’t we?’ she said in resignation as she gazed out at the brightly-lit interior, and he wondered if she was as startled as he was that it had changed so little. ‘But it would have been nice to say hi to Melvin and Sheila.’

  ‘So, come in with me while I place our order,’ he invited as he released both their seat-belts. ‘They won’t be able to murder me in front of witnesses.’

  ‘Murder you?’ She laughed. ‘Why would they want to do that?’

  ‘Because this is the first time I’ve visited since the day I got my exam results and took off,’ he admitted rather shame-facedly, remembering how patiently the older couple had put up with his craziness in those weeks after the school leavers’ dance. ‘Melvin will probably take his filleting knife to me.’

  ‘That I’d like to see.’ She laughed even harder, probably at the image of the wiry little man who’d barely come up to his shoulder fifteen years ago. It would be Sheila, nearly twice his size, who would be the greater danger.

  ‘One cod, large chips, one plaice, small chips,’ he called out over the sound of the bell activated by the opening of the door.

  The busy clatter halted for several beats while two heads swivelled sharply in the direction of his voice.

  ‘Zach!’ shrieked Sheila, instantly abandoning her post behind the till to hurry t
owards him, her arms already extended in her desire to snatch him into a hug.

  ‘Damn, boy, what took you so long?’ Melvin roared, unable to leave the bubbling tank that seethed with rapidly browning chipped potatoes.

  ‘Look at you! All dressed up like the dog’s dinner!’ Sheila exclaimed as she came to a screeching halt in front of him, clearly too intimidated to touch him.

  ‘Never could do a thing to please you,’ he complained as he wrapped both arms around her, a potential dry-cleaning bill nothing in comparison to this sort of welcome. He was startled for a moment by how much weight she’d lost since he’d last seen her. Had she finally taken government warnings about obesity seriously? ‘When I worked here, you were always on at me to smarten up a bit.’

  ‘You never listened to me before,’ she pointed out as she stepped back and swatted at him as if he were an annoying fly. ‘Anyway, where are the two of you off to dressed up to the nines? Some slap-up do?’

  ‘No. We just thought we’d like some fish and chips for supper,’ he said blandly.

  Sheila peered a little closer at his companion and he held his breath, waiting in trepidation and suddenly wondering if he’d made an embarrassing mistake. He saw the moment when recognition dawned.

  ‘Well, well!’ she marvelled. ‘Look at that, Melvin. Our Zach finally got to take his princess out and he can’t think of anywhere better to take her than here.’

  Zech felt the colour rise in his cheeks and from the twinkle in Amy’s eyes he knew she’d seen it.

  ‘Actually, we were at that big do to raise money for the hospital,’ she explained. ‘But when we realised that we had a choice between trying to eat a plate of rubber chicken or coming here…’ She shrugged. ‘Well, here we are.’

  ‘So, where do you want to eat this fish?’ demanded Melvin as he hoisted the basked of golden-brown food out of the fryer to allow it to drain. ‘Here or take-away?’

  Zach was just about to tell him to put their meal on two plates, suddenly looking forward to spending time with the couple who had cared more about him than any blood relative, when the bell jangled furiously, announcing the arrival of a boisterous group of teenage boys.

  ‘Whooee!’ said one of the boys as he saw the way Zach was dressed then took his time eyeing Amy up and down. ‘This place is coming up in the world.’

  For a moment, when he saw the way the scruffy youth was ogling every one of Amy’s slender inches, Zach was tempted to deck him. It was totally irrelevant that he’d been staring lasciviously at them all evening.

  Amy was obviously totally unperturbed. ‘This place has been the best in the town for at least thirty years,’ she said firmly, then smiled her thanks as Melvin held aloft the small carrier bag containing their meals, having made the decision for them.

  Zach stepped forward, one hand automatically reaching into his pocket for his wallet until Melvin glared at him, silently telling him to leave it where it was.

  ‘Don’t be a stranger,’ the older man ordered, only releasing his hold on the bag when Zach nodded, then glanced across at Amy. ‘And that goes for you, too, missy,’ he added gruffly. ‘This place could do with a bit of glamour now and again, so don’t wait for this great lump to bring you.’

  Amy agreed with a smile but even though she hastily turned away, it wasn’t soon enough to hide the suspicious brightness in her eyes. His own had a suspicious prickle to them, especially when she’d been greeted with every bit as much welcome as he had.

  Well, there went his reputation as the hard case of the chemistry class. She’d never believe his stone-faced persona now that she’d seen—

  ‘Hey, babe,’ began one of the youngsters, cocky in his teenage self-belief. ‘How about ditching him and joining us for a bit of—’ Zach turned and silently fixed him with a killer glare and the youth’s jaunty invitation died away to silence.

  ‘How do you do that?’ Amy demanded a couple of minutes later before he even had a chance to settle himself in his seat beside her.

  ‘Do what?’ He turned to face her and when he saw the way the light outlined her perfect features he barely stopped himself groaning aloud, especially when his pulse was still pounding from the sudden surge of testosterone caused by…

  ‘That cold glare,’ she said, interrupting his hormone-laden thoughts. ‘You used to do it at school, too, and it still stops anyone in their tracks. It even used to work on the teachers…in fact, it especially used to work on the teachers,’ she continued in a musing voice. ‘I think it used to frighten them.’

  ‘Were you frightened, too?’ His hand froze on the ignition key. The thought was like a kick to his gut.

  ‘No!’ She chuckled, a sweet ripple of sound that almost instantly released the tension holding every muscle rigid. ‘It reminded me of a dog my grandmother took in. He wasn’t much more than a puppy but from the number of scars on its body you could tell he’d been badly treated.’

  Zach didn’t know whether being compared to a stray mutt was any better for his ego than thinking she’d been afraid of him.

  ‘Anyway,’ she continued, apparently oblivious to the damage she was doing to his pride, ‘even when he was full grown and knew we would never hurt him, he never lost that reflex. All it took was for someone to raise their hand or even raise their voice near my grandmother and me and all his hackles would go up, his lip would curl to show his teeth and he’d get that look in his eyes.’

  ‘Remind me not to growl,’ he said shortly as he put the car into gear, shaken that she’d pegged him quite so accurately. That was exactly the way he’d been feeling when that punk had started trying to chat Amy up…protective…possessive…and definitely ready to rip his throat out!

  No change there, then, he admitted on a sigh as he turned away from town, automatically heading towards the long straight stretch of road that had beckoned to him whenever everything got on top of him that year.

  ‘Are we going to Beacon Hill?’

  It wasn’t until she asked that he realised that was exactly where he was heading.

  ‘If you don’t mind? I didn’t even think…’

  ‘I don’t mind at all. It’s one of my favourite places when I want to do some thinking. There’s something about the atmosphere up there that just seems to help put everything in perspective…’

  ‘Perhaps it’s got something to do with all those centuries of history,’ he suggested, shaken anew that she should feel the same way about the place. ‘I remember the first time I heard about the chain of beacons right around the country and the way they would be lit to warn of invasion.’

  ‘Me, too!’ she exclaimed. ‘I was fascinated by the idea that they were spaced just far enough apart on hills so that they were visible in the distance from each other, and that as soon as one was burning, the next one along lit theirs and so on. With our background of modern cars and telephones it seemed impossible that such an ancient method of communication could happen many times faster than a rider on the fastest horse could possibly have delivered the message…’

  ‘At least, these days, they’re used for more ceremonial duties like celebrating the Queen’s Jubilee or the two-hundredth anniversary of Trafalgar,’ he added as he drew up beside the ancient stone platform.

  Darkness descended as soon as he switched off the lights, not wanting to drain the battery once the engine was silent, and with that silence came a sudden feeling of intimacy that made his pulse take up a heavier rhythm.

  How many times had he thought about just this situation…the two of them up here in the night…alone…?

  ‘It’s almost as if we’re the last two people left on earth,’ Amy whispered, obviously feeling the same sense of awe that the sight always brought to him. ‘There’s just us and the stars and the wind.’

  ‘And all the lights spread out down there,’ he pointed out deliberately, needing to do something to bring his thoughts back to earth or he’d be tempted to drag her into his arms the way he’d longed to all those years ago. ‘There mus
t be nearly as many of them as there are stars, more’s the pity.’

  ‘You mean, because of the light pollution?’ Amy asked. ‘Does it really make that much difference? After all, we do need to be able to see where we’re going, for safety’s sake.’

  ‘If you’d ever seen a sky filled with a billion stars stretching from horizon to horizon, every one of them clear and bright and all of them seeming close enough to touch…well, I certainly think it’s worthwhile taking an extra couple of seconds looking both ways before I cross a road if it would help to get rid of some of those streetlights,’ he said, then realised just how fervent he sounded. She’d be thinking that he had some weird bee in his bonnet about way-out environmental—

  ‘You’ve seen it?’ she interrupted, almost eagerly, apparently unaware of anything other than what they were talking about. ‘You’ve seen a sky like that? Where? When?’

  ‘Africa. At first, right on the border of South Africa, to be precise, when I volunteered for a short stint in one of the refugee camps with one of the emergency relief organisations.’ Only half of his mind was on what he was saying, the rest fully occupied with the fact that he actually had ABC in his car and that she was close enough for him to smell the vanilla-and-spice fragrance of her perfume and see the way her eyes widened as she drank in what he was saying. It was heady stuff. Every bit as heady as his imagination had painted it.

  ‘Africa! That’s right!’ she exclaimed with a smile that almost seemed to light up the shadows of the car. ‘But someone said you’d been in one of the big hospitals out there, getting a bit of experience under your belt.’

  ‘I did that, too, after my stint as a volunteer was over.’

  ‘What was it like?’ she was obviously eager for details.

  ‘Scary,’ he admitted bluntly. ‘When you’re fairly newly qualified, there are just so many situations that you’ve only heard about…like someone coming in with multiple gunshot wounds who’s closely followed by half a dozen others who’ve been gunned down in reprisal for the first one’s injuries…and you’ve never even dealt with one GSW before and now you’re having to do it with only half the monitoring equipment you need. On the other hand, because it was a hospital in the rough end of the city, the staff was well accustomed to that sort of thing and they were able to baby me through the first one.’