“We have a lot to catch up on,” Saskia said, brushing the tip of her nose against Kivi’s.
“We do,” Kivi murmured. Then – Saskia could see it in her eyes – a horrible thought must have struck her. “Wait – how long do we have? When do you have to leave?”
“Never,” Saskia said immediately.
“Wha-? Never?”
“My stuff’s in the car,” Saskia said sheepishly. This was where the situation could go either way. “I had a mass clear-out so that it would fit. Didn’t think I’d be done so quickly, but… I came up to surprise you. I intended to arrive in time for the wedding, but got stuck in traffic. Crept into the annex while you were busy in here. I know it’s not brilliant timing, but… I couldn’t stand to wait a single day longer.”
“You’re – you’re hereto stay?” Kivi’s eyes bugged out.
“Yep,” Saskia said, and then her mouth ran away from her. “I’m sorry it’s such bad timing. I was just trying to surprise you. I know things haven’t been great between us and that’smy fault–and if you don’t want me to move in with you then that’s absolutely fine – I’ll find somewhere else if it comes to it – I just-”
Kivi silenced her by placing a firm kiss on her lips.
“Shut up,” she said firmly but not unkindly. “Of course I want you to move in with me. I was just shocked, that’s all. And it’s been a long few days, and I’m exhausted, and – I’m never doing another wedding again.” She laughed. “Waytoo much work on top of running the guest house, even with your assistance. I couldn’t have done it without you, you know.”
“I couldn’t have done many things without you,” Saskia confessed. She gathered Kivi’s hands together, and pressed them to her own chest. “I went to the doctor. A private eating disorder specialist, since I thought I’d best make good use of the moneyBritish Livinggave me for my articles. They told me I have orthorexia and Purging Disorder. Gave me some ways to manage it if it rears its head again, and I’m having fortnightly sessions with a therapist to pick apart the cognition behind it. But we agreed – right now, I have it under control. It’s well-managed. Thanks to you.”
“No.” Kivi squeezed Saskia’s hands. “That was you. I just supported you – you did the real work.”
“Okay,” Saskia acquiesced, “but you gave me the strength to face it for what it was. An eating disorder, as opposed to just one of my little foibles. I now feel like I control it, rather than it controlling me. Do you see what I mean?”
“I do. And it’s music to my ears to hear you say that.” Kivi’s eyes filled with tears. “My God, I’m so glad.” She dropped Saskia’s hands to wipe her own eyes.
“With that in mind…” Saskia swallowed, before continuing. “Would you come out to dinner with me? Tonight? I’ve bookeda table at some upmarket Italian place near Truro. Petra recommended it.”
“Pugliesi’s?” Kivi’s face lit up. “I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard very good things. What time’s the table booked for?”
“Six-thirty.” Saskia looked up at the clock. “Which gives us three hours to clean up, get our glad rags on and get there.”
“I don’t think that’ll take three hours,” Kivi said, then smiled. She shuffled forward, inch by inch, until she was pressed obnoxiously close to Saskia’s side. Then she planted a kiss on the side of her neck, and whispered in her ear, “How on Earth are we going to pass the rest of that time? Hmm? Any ideas?”
“I might be able to think of something,” Saskia managed, all the blood in her body rushing south.
“I thought you might,” Kivi agreed, and gave her one more kiss on the neck before pulling away. “Let’s get moving.”
. . .
They barely made it to the restaurant in time. Just like when they had parted, neither of them had wanted to leave the bed, clinging to each other like limpets. It was only the rumbling of Kivi’s stomach – and her excitement at trying the fancy restaurant – that had gotten them up. And even then, they’d nearly tripped at the first hurdle. Kivi had emerged from the bathroom in a dress that, by her own admission, she’d unearthed from the back of her wardrobe. That didn’t matter. The deep purple sheath dress fitted her in all the right places, accented by a gold chain around her waist, and she had teamed it with a pair of black ankle boots that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow did. Saskia had watched her, captivated by the way the fading light enriched the amethyst-coloured fabric and glinted off her jewellery, until she realised that Kivi was staring at her too.
She had strayed from both her classic emerald green and her classic peplum, and gone for the ‘little black dress’ she had acquired with Kivi in mind. Not that there was anything particularly little about it. The neckline – well, to say ‘plunging’ would be an understatement. It was cut almost too low to be decent, particularly on Saskia’s small chest, the two sides meeting in a V-shape just above her navel. From the bottom, a slit ran from her ankle all the way up her right leg, just stopping at the crucial place. Kivi’s eyes followed it all the way down to her stiletto-clad foot, and then back up to her face. Saskia cocked an eyebrow, and was rewarded by Kivi’s breath audibly hitching.
“Shall we?” Saskia extended her hand, sensing that Kivi was struck dumb and thus she needed to make the move.
“Mm-hmm,” Kivi managed, and stepped forward to take it. At the warmth of her touch, even though they’d been doing nothingbuttouching for the last hour and a half, Saskia felt a tingle down her spine. This woman was hers. She couldn’t believe that she was the only person who got to do this now.
At the restaurant, the two of them attracted the eyes of most of the diners. It had recently acquired a Michelin star, so its clientele was certainly the type to own beautiful outfits, but Saskia could feel how much she stood out. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation to her, but she could almost sense Kivi’s self-consciousness. With that in mind, she ushered Kivi in front of her with the tips of her fingers at her waist, in what she hoped was both a possessive and reassuring gesture. She didn’t remove her hand until they were both seated in a candle-lit table tucked away in a corner, where she immediately put her hand on Kivi’s knee instead.
They perused the menu, and while Saskia felt a faint flicker of anxiety at the listing of the calories next to each item, she forced herself to rationalise.You are allowed to consume calories.Your body needs food to live, and you deserve to take pleasure in it.Both were statements that Geoff, her therapist, had made her write down, and now she was glad she did, because it allowed her to order a Sicilian red prawn risotto with a minimum of guilt. Kivi, meanwhile, went for halibut with brown butter and saffron, and they both agreed on a glass of Franciacorta to wash it down, recommended by the waitress.
When they were left to enjoy the complimentary olives and focaccia, they finally met each other’s gaze and smiled. Kivi’s eyes skimmed down Saskia’s top half now – all that was visible over the table – and Saskia moved her hand further up Kivi’s leg until she was able to rub the fabric of her dress between her fingers.
“Satin,” she commented appreciatively.
“I think I bought it for a wedding some years ago,” Kivi said. “One I was attending, not organising.”
“Weddings keep cropping up, don’t they?”
