I glanced over at where Simone was talking to Lauren and Rebecca, drinking water rather than wine. Being cautious. My chest filled, bursting and I stood up to go to her.
“Dance with me.”
She looked at me with wide eyes. “What? We’re at a funeral.”
“My brother’s. Dance with me.” I didn’t understand it, didn’t understand myself, but I needed to do something that made me feel alive.
She let me lead her to where there was space, just out of the way of the rest of the mourners. It was a slow song, one from a movie, one that didn’t need too much space.
“When we get home, let’s dance.” I whispered in her ear.
“Anytime.” She relaxed in my arms, letting me lead her to the music.
I smoothed her hair out of her face, taking my time to touch her skin. “Are we good? Is this real, Simone?”
“Very real.” She kissed me gently. “This is real. Are you going to move in?”
“I need to talk to Lauren. It means she leaves the home she’s had since she was a kid. Although as long as she can claim the bathroom, I don’t think she’ll mind. You sure you want to live with a teenaged girl?”
She laughed softly. “Yes. Are you sure you want to live with a workaholic stress-head who finds it hard to switch off?”
“You’re better than you used to be.”
‘It’s because I have a man who takes me dancing.”
“And fucks you senseless.”
She pressed a finger to my lips. “You shouldn’t talk like that at Robert’s funeral.”
This time I smiled. “He’d approve.” I knew he would.
Epilogue
Simone
“Do you think I can have a TV in my room?”
I had discovered that I was a sucker for brown eyes.
“As long as it’s okay with your dad. Or why don’t you have the room next door and do that as a sitting room with a sofa-bed for friends to stay?” It would probably be better for sleeping if she didn’t have a TV. And if Lauren ever brought a boyfriend back he’d have his own room so her father wouldn’t murder him.
“You’re sure?” Her face had broken out into a wide smile and I felt as if I’d just given her the world.
“I’m sure. It’s not like there’s much in that room anyway.”
Then skinny but strong arms wrapped round me and squeezed. Tightly. “I love you! You’re the best step-mum ever!”
I sat down as she pretty much danced out of the kitchen, probably to start online window shopping for furniture. Three weeks of living with her had taught me a lot and not just dance steps to the piece she was choreographing. I had also learned that she didn’t know how to put a towel on a radiator to dry, empty any bin or return my make-up. She cried at movies with animals in them and hated it when her friends were sad. She loved her dad and had told me that she was glad he’d found someone she liked. Then I’d had stories of previous girlfriends, most of which had made me laugh, a few which had made me tease him later. She was settled and happy, dealing with her grief. I hoped I had some news for her in the next few weeks that would make her happier. And her dad.
“You okay?” Jack came in through the back door, carrying two sleeping bags. We were doing a sponsored sleep-out to raise money for the centre, although he was fussing about me not resting.
“I’m good.” My concussion was improving. I still tired easily, but the enforced rest had meant I’d diversified from living in my restaurants, employing a business manager and two more chefs.
“You look pale.” He sat down and frowned. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. You said before you needed to talk.”
He nodded. “Where’s Lolly?”
