Paradise Fields (44 page)

Wellingtons and a waxed jacket were the perfect clothes for walking on the beach in April. The sky was a strange mixture of mauve and pink, brighter than the night surrounding it, and the sea beneath reflected all the lights of Padstow, which twinkled like Christmas decorations. They'd checked in to the hotel and left their bags, but Jake had insisted on going for a walk before they went upstairs.

‘I'm stiff. I need some exercise.'

Nel was glad to go along with his plan. It was easy,
just walking, side by side, admiring the curve of the harbour, the boats, the little lanes, the houses. They peered into the window of a bookshop which seemed tiny, yet was obviously crammed with books.

‘In summer it's open all evening,' said Jake.

‘Have you been here before, then?' Nel asked, her head on one side, trying to see if the book she was looking at really was one she'd wanted for ages.

‘Oh yes. We used to come here as kids. It's great. There's a cycle path now. We can hire bikes tomorrow, if you'd like.'

Although Nel was relaxing more and more by the minute, mention of tomorrow did remind her of what might happen before tomorrow.

‘I haven't ridden a bike for years,' she said.

‘No, I rather thought you hadn't.'

‘Now why – oh.' Blushing desperately, she realised he was referring to a conversation they had had shortly after that fatal night in London.

‘But don't worry,' he went on. ‘You'll soon pick it up, it's just like—'

‘Riding a bike?'

‘Exactly. Shall we go back? I've booked a table for eight-thirty. Presumably you'll want to change, although it is very informal.'

Without waiting for her comments, he took her hand and led her towards the good hotel.

It occurred to Nel that it was probably totally obvious that she was not in the habit of having dirty weekends. It had been a joke between her and Mark that they had never had one, having neither the time nor the money to fit one in before they got married. And after they
were married there were other things to spend money on. So following a sweet young thing in a white blouse and black skirt upstairs and along corridors was embarrassing. She tried to convince herself that the sweet young thing had probably shown so many guests to bedrooms, she didn't give a thought to what they might get up to in them. Also, no one ever believed that anyone outside their own generation had sex. At least, young people certainly didn't think that grown-ups did.

This girl, who was about the same age as Fleur, probably thought that Jake would put on his stripy pyjamas, and she her rollers and her winceyette nightie and cold cream, and then they'd get into bed on their respective sides (the same sides as at home, naturally) and stay there for the entire night, having shared nothing more passionate than a peck on the cheek and a late-night sachet of hot chocolate.

Having created this little scenario, Nel felt less like a scarlet woman, and therefore became a little less scarlet. For all she knew, she and Jake looked like an old married couple.

‘Here we are,' said the sweet young thing, unlocking the door. ‘You were lucky to get the suite. We'd had a cancellation.'

Jake put the bags down and thanked her. Nel took off her wellingtons and then went to inspect the bathroom. It was beautiful. Well lit, it had huge bales of fluffy white towels, large bottles of Molton Brown shower gel, body lotion and shampoo. White woodwork and artistically placed shells made the room seemed homely, in spite of the extravagant luxury of it all.

‘I'm afraid there's only one bathroom,' said Jake,
coming in behind her and making her jump. ‘But there's a bed in the sitting room. I just thought I'd tell you that. In case you wanted to know.'

‘Thank you.' It came out rather huskily.

‘Why don't you explore the suite, or unpack or something, while I have a quick shower? Then you can be as long as you like getting ready.'

‘Good idea.' It would also mean she wouldn't have to worry about leaving the bathroom spotless.

Nel took her bag into the sitting room and tipped out its contents. There was a nightie, and she was pleased to see it was a less ragged one than some. No dressing gown, but that was no problem, there were robes in the bathroom. There was a bundle of knickers and tights all tangled together, which was how they came out of the washing machine, and how they were dried over the Rayburn. She took a moment to reflect that Viv probably separated her silk French knickers and her thongs, put them into special net bags and washed them on ‘delicates'. She just bunged everything in on ‘easy care' and hoped for the best. It made the process quicker at the time, but now, when she realised that all her pants were a pale mud colour, she wished she'd kept a few pairs for best.

Apart from the underwear, Fleur had also packed Nel's little black top, a long velvet skirt with a slit up it, which definitely came from the thin end of her wardrobe, and a sort of gypsy top, which Nel couldn't remember buying. In theory the top and the skirt would look fine together, but until she tried them on, Nel had no idea whether she'd be able to fit into the skirt, and the gypsy top might look like a dog's breakfast. She wished Fleur had put in the long coat she had bought
for the meeting, but she hadn't. She felt safe in that. Perhaps that was why Fleur had decided against it.

Did she have time to try on her outfit while Jake was in the shower? She risked him coming in while she was struggling with a zip, trying to squash a segment of fat in between two edges which were destined never to meet. Or at least, not until a good half-stone had been disposed of. He seemed to have been in there quite a long time, better not chance it further.

What was her fallback position? There was a white silk shirt, which needed an iron, but would look sort of OK if she wore it open over the little black top. Fleur hadn't done a bad job, Nel decided, and there were a couple of jumpers and her new pair of black trousers in the bag as well. She'd manage, especially if there was an iron somewhere about. There was.

The skirt fitted beautifully, and with the silk blouse and black top, looked quite sophisticated, Nel decided, emerging from the bathroom.

‘You look – and smell – delicious,' said Jake, who was wearing a charcoal grey suit, but with the top two buttons of his shirt undone. ‘I can't decide whether to wear a tie or not. What do you think?'

Nel couldn't think. He looked so completely sexy and gorgeous, she couldn't possibly comment on whether the tie was necessary or not. ‘You said it was informal here. Would you feel happier in a tie?'

Jake looked at her, then at her mouth and then, she couldn't help noticing, at her cleavage. He bit his lip and swallowed. ‘I'll just put it in my pocket and then I can put it on if necessary. Shall we go down? If we don't, we might stay here, and miss our table.'

Nel was still trying to work this out when they reached the restaurant.

They shared a lobster to start with. It was delicious, messy and a wonderful way to forget about nerves, thought Nel, wondering vaguely if she'd ever get the butter out of her shirt. But by the time she had drunk at least half a bottle of very delicious white wine, and had cracked and pulled, sucked and chewed and generally wallowed in shell and flesh and sundry bits and pieces, she felt much more relaxed.

She took her hands out of the bowl of hot water and lemon and dried them. ‘That was such fun, and really delicious.' She was about to add, ‘Terribly extravagant too,' but realised that neither Viv nor Fleur would say that. They would assume they deserved extravagance. ‘Thank you, Jake.'

He pulled his napkin out from where he'd tucked it in his shirt. ‘My pleasure entirely, Nel. I've fantasised about taking you somewhere like this for ages.'

‘Oh?' Was this piece of information unnerving, or romantic?

‘Yes. I've thought a lot about how to proceed with you, and I've come to the conclusion that slowly is the answer.'

Nel put her elbows on the table and looked up at him. ‘Would you care to elaborate?'

‘Mm. I thought at first, while we're still getting to know each other, we'd go away for weekends to nice places, where we can talk.'

‘Without my family constantly making demands, you mean?'

‘Don't get me wrong, I adore your family – the one
I've met, anyway – but I don't want to have to fight for your attention, not straightaway. Later, when we know each other better, and they've had time to get used to the idea, I thought you could spend the odd night at my house.'

‘Your house?'

‘Yes. My new house. Did I tell you I've bought one? As soon as I heard the job was mine. It's going to be very nice when I've finished it. It's still a building site at the moment, but the builders say it should be habitable by Christmas.' He gave a slight, crooked smile which sent Nel's insides into spasm. ‘They didn't say which Christmas, of course.'

‘Well, it is only April. There must be a good chance it's this one.' Suddenly the thought of being curled up with Jake in front of a roaring fire made Christmas into something to look forward to. Then she frowned. ‘If you hadn't bought a house last Christmas, what were you doing buying mistletoe?'

‘I was taking the opportunity to get close to the most attractive woman I'd seen in ages.'

Nel looked down at her plate, just as it was whisked away.

‘But going back to our courtship,' said Jake.

‘That's a lovely, old-fashioned word.'

‘When you've stayed with me a few times—'

‘It's not easy for me to get away, you know, what with the dogs and everything.'

‘I thought perhaps the dogs could stay too, or wouldn't they like that?'

Nel began to giggle. ‘You'd have my dogs to stay in your new house? And cover it with hair?'

‘Well, yes. It's not that bad, is it?'

‘It's worse, but it's such a kind thought.'

‘Anyway,' Jake went on, when your family are used to you having me in your life, I thought I could stay with you from time to time.' His voice faltered and he stopped. He took hold of her wrist. ‘Nel, do you want me in your life?'

She knew her pulse was racing, knew he would feel it under his thumb. ‘I think so,' she breathed.

‘Because I want you in mine. I'm not asking you to marry me, or anything like that, because I was told in no uncertain terms by Viv how you felt about that while your children are still at home. But we can be lovers, can't we?'

Nel sighed. ‘I do hope so.'

Jake swallowed. ‘I wish they'd hurry up with our fish.'

It arrived at that moment, covered in the crispest batter in the world, accompanied by the best chips, served with malt vinegar and the most tender vegetables. Nel was aware of the most delicious food passing through her lips and into her mouth, but she could hardly enjoy it. She was longing for him, longing for the moment when they could go upstairs and be alone.

‘I'll tell you what,' said Jake, crunching a chip with very white teeth, ‘shall we ask for a bottle of champagne and our pudding to be sent upstairs?'

‘What will they think?'

‘I don't care what they think, what do you think?'

‘I think that's a very good idea.'

Nel noticed that it was the sweet young thing who came to take their order, and realised that now she'd know that Nel and Jake weren't planning to stay on their own sides of the bed all night. In fact, while they
were discussing what to have for pudding, it seemed that Jake had some interesting ideas for that, too.

She decided on fresh peaches in champagne with raspberry coulis. Jake went for chocolate mousse. It was because, she decided, he'd never had to consider how hard it would be to get chocolate out of the sheets. She noted that now she had completely stopped worrying about taking her clothes off, and was only concerned about how soon she could do it.

‘Come on,' said Jake. ‘Let's go.'

They left the restaurant hand in hand.