“Fine. Hurry up.” He turns and heads back.
Fine?For that alone I’m going to make him wait.
So I take my time in the shower, do a deep moisturising hair treatment. I might not follow the same beauty regime as during my TV days, but my hair is a long way from my days of no-style tassels halfway between buff and boring. So after my shower andblow dry, the glossy graduated bob swings in a smooth curtain above my shoulders.
My skin, too, gets a moisture treatment and the special gold dust shimmer cream so it glows.
Okay, now clothes.
I doubt there’s a woman in the world who hasn’t tormented a man by making him wait while she decides what to wear.
What’s needed this afternoon is a knock-out outfit that looks casual, that looks like I grabbed the first thing I saw. Since my legs are my best feature, I decide to show them off by wearing a pair of loose-fitting fuchsia shorts, the waist tied with a cotton cord. I pair it with a white cotton man’s white shirt that is just light enough to show the merest hint of white bra underneath.
But most of my time goes on painting my toenails a glittery bronze to match my tribal sandals.
The look on Osian’s face as I walk oh, so casually out onto the balcony is worth everything.
He’s sitting at the small table where we often have our morning coffee, and there’s a jug of ice and lemon slices, two glasses and a bottle of sparkling water.
“Thank you, this is wonderful,” I say, reaching for the water and pouring myself a generous glass.
His eyes follow my every move.
Slowly, giving him time to take in every inch of me, I replace the bottle and drag over a second chair so I can stretch my legs right to the balcony’s railings.
“I wanted to discuss thePerllans,” he says. “This first group have completed their programme.” He sounds all business, buthis eyes keep stealing away to look at my legs before he drags them back to the paperwork on his lap.
“I know they’re your group, but I am so proud of what they achieved. Some of them, like Amani, have flowered. Do you know she’s designing a whole vlog about Rhys and Meinir? You know, the mural in the ballroom.”
His eyes narrow, thinking. “The bride imprisoned in the hollow tree?”
“Yes. She’s doing an interview with Alex about the restoration, but also with the professor about the legend. She says it will pique the interest of people outside Wales because no one can resist a love story.”
He nods, smiling with his eyes, which is always a better indication of his pleasure. “In a way, this first group was my test run. And it’s flagged up a few issues.”
He pauses, shuffling papers while I watch condensation on the jug with the ice. A drop trickles slowly down the side.
When he doesn’t talk I look up. “Issues like what?”
He shakes his head as if dislodging a thought.
A little ashamed of my flirty behaviour, I turn my chair so my feet are under the table and we face each other.
“For example, some are more… let’s call them demanding cases. And five weeks is nowhere near long enough to make a real difference.”
This concern surprises me. He seemed very positive before. “They all seemed to improve and come out of their shells,” I say.
“Yes, of course, a lot of improvement. But some cases have deeper...”
Another pause, mid-sentence. He reaches out a finger and wipes the drop of condensation which has now reached the table. There’s something else on his mind. Yes, we need to talk about thePerllans, but that’s not all.
“Deeper?” I prompt him again.
He takes his finger away from the jug and switches back to business talk. “Deeper and more complex conditions that aren’t going to be resolved in five weeks. I had no idea Schaefer wanted to stay; he didn’t tell me before he asked you for a job.”
Ah, now we come to the point of this talk. “Is it a problem that I offered him a contract?”
“It’s one of the things I hadn’t considered. I should set up a system for how to deal with this. Ideally you would have discussed it with me first.”
