‘Don’t know yet,’ he grates, flicking through the pages for the article.
Scooting along the bench seat, she leans against him to see. ‘Ah.’
Skipping through the main points, sweat breaks out on his forehead. He’s been worrying about that day in the coffee shop, but convinced himself everything happened too quickly for photos to be taken. Yet there’s a blurry shot of him shoving his baseball cap on leaving the café, and the narrative mentions he’s been spotted in a Southampton suburb, before rehashing his fall from grace and speculating on what he’s doing now.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he mutters, slapping the magazine closed. It’s embarrassing, and he prefers to believe she doesn’t know the full awful story.
Turning, he realises how close she is, breath warm on his collarbone. ‘It’s not so bad,’ she sympathises, ‘all they know is you visited the outskirts. Doesn’t mean they know where you live or work. If they did, they’d print it. Right?’
Relief floods through him, as he gazes at her. ‘You’re probably right.’
A spark seems to crackle in the air, and before he can think of all the reasons not to, they’re kissing. Losing himself in heat and softness, he groans into her mouth. Wrapping both arms around his neck, she crowds closer, letting out a low moan. Their bodies meld, and the windows steam up.
Reality intervenes when a vehicle pulls up beside them.
He sits back, breathing hard. ‘This is a bad idea.’ Someone might see, and he can’t be gossip-fodder again. Nor can hedisappoint someone so lovely, and shewouldbe disappointed in him, sooner or later.
Kirsten blinks, unwinding her arms and hugging herself. ‘It is?’
There’s a world of hurt in her beautiful blue eyes. Better to put a stop to this now, even if it physically hurts. ‘Yes.’ Shifting in his seat, he says briskly. ‘Buckle up. Don’t you have orders to bake?’
‘Orders. Yeah.’ Sliding to her side of the cab, she turns to stare out the window, cheeks burning.
He grimaces, the silence so tense and awkward he turns the radio on, filling the van with eighties pop hits. He wants to apologise, and explain himself, but maybe it’s better this way.
They don’t exchange a word on the drive home, and it’s a relief when they finally drive through the main street of Little Beaubrook, where a group of workmen are erecting scaffolding on two of the grey cottages.
They crunch up the gravel driveway and he parks the van, opening his mouth and closing it again. Shit.
Kirsten obviously feels the same, because she flings the door open and jumps out, racing toward the porticoed entrance like rabid wolves are in pursuit.
Dropping his forehead onto the steering wheel, Harley mutters, ‘Fuck!’
Yeah,she agrees solemnly.You messed that up.
‘Thanks, helpful.’
A moment later there’s a knock on the window, and he looks down to find Albie peering up at him.
‘What are you doing?’ the old man asks, curiosity plastered across his face.
He shakes his head. ‘Wish I bloody knew.’
CHAPTER 16
Gilly
Accept People for Who they Are
Unlocking the front door, Gilly kicked off her shoes, hung up her jacket and dropped her bags in the hallway. Pouring a glass of merlot while heating up a ready meal, she sighed, not missing Ariel’s colourful presence as much as anticipated. Which was bad.
After putting the topic of IVF on the back burner, they’d been getting on better, and Gilly could breathe without second-guessing how every conversation would unfold. However, despite hours in her art room sketching and painting, Ariel was restless. Without medical professionals to call, or fertility forums to surf, irritability had crept in. When she mentioned a potential London trip for a new art installation and seeing a friend just returned from Canada, Gilly agreed it was a good idea, though quietly worrying their new life was not enough for Ariel.
On the flip side, this was her longest relationship and sometimes she found living together difficult. She didn’t mindher own company, and with Ariel away she was happy to eat alone, watch films or take long walks with an audiobook. In some ways, because of the sheer amount of energy Ariel took up, their relationship was often a distraction from other priorities. That truth speckled guilt through her. They were so different.Accept people for who they are.Today’s advice from Rose, shared by Albie. Was Gilly, and what she wanted, accepted by Ariel? Or was she having regrets? Would her fiancée be better off with another dazzling extrovert?
After dinner, she went to the entrance hall to distract herself from the grim thoughts, footsteps echoing across the warm marbled space as the grand staircase rose behind her. As she grabbed their post, Kirsten bustled in with Rosie, looking frazzled. Some sense of female kinship made Gilly blurt, ‘Hi. Fancy a coffee?’
Kirsten nodded gratefully. ‘Do you know what? That’d be nice, if you don’t mind coming to ours. We ate out, so I’ve got to get this rat-bag ready for bed soon.’
