There was a pause, and then she asked, ‘Have you ever been to Borneo?’
‘No.’ He watched her. ‘That’s where your husband died, isn’t it?’ He took a step closer. ‘You must miss him.’
She realized that something had shifted inside of her. That darkness, the frustration and anger, had been replaced by a sadness.
Slowly, she lowered herself onto the bed. ‘I know it’s a long time ago, but it’s just so hard to get used to it. Jack had always been there, my neighbour, the guy who’d climb onto the garage roof to get into my bedroom for a late-night chat. His death changed me.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m a different person now.’
‘You know, you don’t need to be alone, Miranda.’ He sat down beside her. ‘You keep pushing people away because you can’t bear the thought of having your heart broken again – believe me, I know the feeling! But we can’t go through our entire lives being alone, can we? Not when there’s a better option.’
‘What kind of a better option?’ she asked, her eyes on his.
There was a moment when it could have gone either way, him looking into her eyes, the intensity in them. But there was something else, too. A sense of both of them being afraid and unsure, that a lot was on the line, more than just their hearts, something deeper.
Slowly, he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers, barely more than a moment of connection.
‘Are we doing the right thing?’ she whispered, gently moving forward to kiss him again. Something about the sensation made her yearn for human contact, the warm intimacy of skin against skin, and if she were honest, for him.
And between their gentle kisses, he whispered back, ‘I don’t know, but I’d torture myself forever if I let this moment go.’
Even though she wasn’t entirely sure she should carry on, she couldn’t seem to stop, her hands travelling down his shoulders, her fingers moving under his sweater to feel the soft skin on his stomach. Unable to stop herself, she peeled it off, gaping at his broad, tanned chest.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Sinclair said, pulling away, looking at her with a tenderness she’d never seen in him before. ‘Miranda, I don’t want to rush anything.’
As her eyes travelled down his shoulders and torso, she knew that she couldn’t tear herself away. ‘We’re not rushing, though, are we? We know each other. We’re friends.’ She let her hands drift over his chest, and she found herself pulled inexorably into him.
And as they leaned back onto the bed, the quilt shifting with their movements, neither of them noticed Miranda’s handbag toppling to the floor, the contents spilling out, her notebook skidding underneath the bed.
CAROLINE
AS CAROLINE CAME UP FROM THE UNDERGROUND STATIONin Camden, she breathed in the familiar smell of the market stalls, but this evening, instead of feeling exhaustion, she felt light.
At home, Betty would be making one of her pies for dinner, filling in Miranda with palace gossip. Upstairs, Lucy would be pottering around her bedroom – most probably with Annabel asking questions about makeup as she tried on her nail varnish.
And Caroline? Well, she would give Annabel a great hug, and they’d sit around the kitchen table enjoying the chatter until dinner was served. Afterwards she’d relax on the sofa while Annabel did her homework and Betty knitted another ill-fitting cardigan as they listened to the radio.
It would have been the perfect life, if not for one thing: Angus.
It had been a few days since she’d left Frank, and tonight she’d made up her mind to talk to Annabel.
And so it was that after dinner they went up to their shared bedroom, Annabel sitting on the bed while Caroline brought over the stool from the dressing table.
‘I hope you’re not going to tell me we have to move back.’ Annabel had never been one to keep her thoughts inside. ‘Or are you and Dad going to get a divorce?’
Grappling to merge this with the speech she’d rehearsed, Caroline said, ‘No, we’re not moving back, and yes, we will be getting a divorce.’ She cleared her throat. ‘You see, Dad hasn’t always been the kindest of husbands, and then he gambled our inheritance money.’
Annabel already knew about the inheritance money, and she shook her head. ‘I can’t believe he did that, and I’m probably not meant to say it, but I’m glad that we’re not living there anymore. It’s so much more fun living with Betty and the others, and you’ve been a lot happier, too. You laugh a lot. When we were at home with Dad, you barely spoke.’
‘Once upon a time, he did me a great favour, but now I’ve repaid him for everything he’s done for me with the money he stole.’ She nodded firmly. ‘And so we can have a little freedom, live with Betty for a while until we decide what to do.’
Curious, Annabel looked at her. ‘Does this have anything to do with Angus? Were you just friends, or was there more that you’re not telling me?’
With a deep breath, Caroline began, ‘Yes, that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. During the war, Angus and I were very much in love. We were going to marry, but he was called up to the front before we had the chance. It was only after he left that I realized that I was pregnant.’
Slowly, Annabel’s face changed from curiosity to a new understanding of who she was. ‘Angus is my father?’
Caroline nodded. ‘That’s right. When he didn’t write back to me during the war, I thought he had been killed. I didn’t know until now that he’d been in a prisoner of war camp. He never knew about you.’
For once, Annabel was speechless, eventually murmuring, ‘That’s why we have the same hair.’ Her face contorted as she tried to understand. ‘But why did you marry Dad?’
