‘I suppose, in many ways, we’re quite similar.’
‘In what way?’
‘Self-reliant. Independent.’
‘True.’
He gave her a casual look as he sipped his gin. ‘But everyone needs someone.’
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak and, instead, watched a lazy bee buzz in and out of the dusky pink echinaceas. A couple of the flowers had bent stalks thanks to an over enthusiastic Vinny.
After a pause he went on. ‘I wasn’t at the market, although I would have loved to have had a look.’ He brushed a speck of grass off his jeans. ‘Actually, I went to see my parents.’
‘Oh?’
‘Tried to talk to them without it raising my blood pressure to dangerous heights. It helped to see them as you do. I owe you a huge debt of thanks.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. You’ve made me see that they nag from love, out of concern. And you’ve also made me realise that my issues with my family pale into insignificance with what others have to contend with. I’ve decided to try and build some bridges.’
‘That’s wonderful, Johnny,’ Callie said warmly. ‘I’m so pleased. I know they may have their faults but they really are marvellous. Funny, warm-hearted–’
‘Eccentric as hell,’ he finished.
She held up her glass in a toast. ‘Where would we be without a little eccentricity?’
Johnny clinked his against it. ‘Life would indeed be a lot more boring.’
‘And you can never claim your family are boring!’
‘That they’re not.’ He laughed.
They lapsed into silence. Vinny stirred in his basket, sighed and then resettled. A blackbird dropped down, bathed vigorously in the stone bath Callie had filled earlier and then the bird lifted itself silently onto the wall, where it sat, preening its feathers.
‘Do you think you’ll ever make amends with your parents?’ Johnny asked.
She studied her gin and swished the lemon slice out with her finger. Sucking it she grimaced, enjoying its gin-soaked tartness. ‘Don’t think my story will have a fairy-tale ending.’ Nibbling the peel she added, ‘I might get in touch with my brother when I get back. It would do Frida good to have a male role model in her life, but I can’t see anything changing between me and my parents. For that,theyneed to change, and I can’t see it happening.’
The night settled around them. The light faded and tiny pinpricks of stars appeared. Callie watched, entranced, as something black flitted, silver-quick across into the palm trees. A bat. Another joined it, dancing against the luminous turquoise sky. She stared, trying to commit the image and the colours to memory, wishing she had her sketchbook to hand.
She was just about to get up and find it when Johnny said suddenly, ‘Jeez, this gin is strong. What are you going to feed me?’
Giggling, she raised her eyebrows at him. ‘Am I your servant, yours to command?’
‘Would you like to be?’
The heat that passed between them took Callie’s breath away. ‘I think wehadbetter eat,’ she stuttered.
He rose effortlessly and held out his hand to help her up.
As their flesh met, a wave of electricity pulsed through her nerves so acute she thought she’d light up the sky. They stood, her breasts in her thin T-shirt pressed against him. She thought she’d explode.
The movement made Vinny wake. With a yawn he stretched and then gambolled over to them.
Callie eyed the dog, amused. ‘You feed Vinny and I’ll get our food ready.’
‘Now who’s the master? Or should I say mistress?’
