Summer of Love (10 page)

Gus turned to his mother with a look of triumph. ‘I’ve been writing a book. Well, I’ve started anyway. I know you didn’t believe me, but I have and I’ve got an agent. And he’s going to send it out to publishers in the autumn – providing I’ve finished it by then, of course!’

‘Oh, darling! I’m so proud!’ Fiona beamed. ‘I know that’s what you planned to do but I thought with your dyslexia—’ She stopped, possibly wishing she hadn’t mentioned the thing that had made his school days so difficult.

‘Lots of very creative people are dyslexic,’ said Margaret. ‘A friend of mine says it’s a gift, not a handicap.’

‘But why did you have to stay away to write it?’ Melissa pouted, implying she had a right to demand he stayed near her. ‘Surely the whole point of being a writer is that you can do it anywhere.’

‘Probably easier to write about the place you’re in,’ said Fiona, a little briskly. ‘Now, Angus darling, I’m dying of curiosity. How do you and Sian know each other? Did you know she’s got a delightful—’

‘Oh, don’t bore him with that,’ said Sian, ‘I’ve got a little boy,’ she said with the briefest of smiles, ‘but other people’s children are frightfully tiresome, aren’t they?’

‘Not necessarily,’ said Gus, giving Sian a look she took to be stern – only that could have been her guilty conscience, she realised.

‘Rory’s not tiresome, he’s adorable!’ said Fiona, ‘but maybe—’

‘I’ve met him,’ said Melissa, ‘and he’s a little angel, but maybe not all that interesting when we’ve got Angus here to tell us all about his adventures.’

Talking about Rory was the last thing Sian wanted to do and she should have felt grateful to Melissa, yet somehow she couldn’t.

‘Tell us about your adventures,’ insisted Melissa. ‘I’m sure we’re all agog.’

Sian forced herself to stay calm, although all she wanted to do was go home and hide until she’d had time to take in the fact that he was here. But she couldn’t leave now. She’d just have to wait it out a bit longer. She could go after the coffee, she promised herself. That wouldn’t look odd. And she could help Fiona with it. That would speed things up and let her get away sooner.

She had to admit, as he regaled them with all of his adventures, Gus was very entertaining and she was sure that if he wrote as he spoke his book would be brilliant. While he talked he kept sending her meaningful glances. Sian couldn’t acknowledge them. She didn’t want her contradictory emotions to be stirred up any more. She caught his glance once, by mistake, and saw he was confused. He obviously couldn’t understand why she hadn’t greeted him as if they’d only just parted the morning before and she would be more than willing to carry on where they’d left off, in bed together. If it weren’t for Rory, and to some extent Richard, and a whole host of other things, a part of Sian would have liked that too. But that was a lifetime ago, and she had been another Sian then.

It was a relief when she could get up and help Fiona clear the table.

Chapter Seven

Gus, thought Sian, for the hundredth time since she’d left Fiona’s fateful dinner. What was she going to do about him? As Rory had been enticed with promises of a visit to ‘Be Like a Monkey’ – an indoor play area – to stay for the day after his sleepover, Sian had plenty of time to think without the distractions a four-year-old usually provided. She half wished Jody had called to say he was desperate to come home and she would be listening to his chatter right now instead of dwelling on the bombshell that had crashed Fiona’s party. Still, Richard was coming to lunch so she could distract herself by thinking of him and being creative. There was nothing like looking through cookery books to calm the nerves. Then she remembered Richard didn’t like adventurous food.

As she fried onions to garnish the top of the macaroni and mixed butter, sugar and flour to make a crumble, reproducing ‘Good British Cooking’ circa 1950, in fact even while she brushed her teeth and put on her make-up, rather than thinking about her guest, she found she couldn’t help thinking about Gus – again. After all, she’d thought about him most of the night. She couldn’t help it. But the more he filled her mind the more confused and unsettled she felt. She didn’t have the time or emotional energy to get into a state over it. She just didn’t know how best to deal with a situation she had never dreamt would happen. Here was Gus, living practically next door to a son he didn’t even know existed. How did she go about telling him? Did she need to tell him? Could she risk telling him? Would he make a good father? Rory –and she – needed stability and someone who was reliable and who would be there for them. Someone who wouldn’t just provide the fun and adventures in life, but someone who was there to deal with school and not getting into the football team.

She hardly knew anything about Gus, really, despite spending half that night – that wonderful night that seemed like a distant dream – talking to him. And although she knew she was still physically attracted to him she didn’t know how she really felt about him; not now, not after nearly six years. No, she’d decided firmly as the blackbird heralded the dawn chorus outside her window, until she felt she – and Rory – were ready, Gus mustn’t know that Rory was his.

The doorbell broke through her muddled thoughts. Richard was a bit early, she thought as she went to the door, but it wasn’t Richard, it was Fiona and Gus.

Both Sian’s heart and stomach seemed to go into freefall. She wasn’t remotely ready to face him, but she didn’t seem to have any choice. So, fixing what she hoped was a bright smile of welcome on her face, she said, ‘Oh, hello! Fiona, I would have thought you’d have spent the day in bed after yesterday!’ She kissed her friend, keeping up the chatter so she wouldn’t have to speak to, let alone look at, Gus.

‘Hello, Sian,’ he said, following his mother into the cottage. He kissed her cheek. ‘You left quite early last night.’

‘I developed a bit of a headache,’ she said, flushing. Heartache more like, but you couldn’t take a paracetamol for that. She mustn’t let either Fiona or Gus know how thrown she was. She must act as if it was the most natural thing in the world for the two of them to have popped round after the dinner party the night before – which of course it was. They didn’t need to know what a bombshell Gus’s arrival had been for her.

Gus didn’t look convinced by her answer. ‘So you weren’t avoiding me, or anything?’

‘Good Lord no!’ said Sian, a little too expansively. ‘Why would I want to do that?’

‘Darling, don’t interrogate her! Have we disturbed you, Sian? And where’s Rory? I’ve been telling Angus all about him, and he’s very keen to meet him.’

Oh the relief! ‘He’s not here. Annabelle’s mum is taking them all off to an indoor play space where they go up and down slides and ladders and scream. I’m making lunch for Richard.’

Just at that moment, there was a knock on the door. Richard: bang on time. Sian took a step towards the door just as Gus, who had ambled into the kitchen called, ‘I see you share my mother’s habit of over-catering.’

‘I’d better let Richard in,’ Sian said nervously. Then she had a thought; it might be a good thing if Gus and Fiona stayed. Having Richard there would divert Gus, and having Gus there would stop Richard from asking her again if she’d changed her mind. What’s more, Fiona had fed her so many times since she’d moved down here the least she could do was be welcoming and invite them to stay. ‘Why don’t you two join us for lunch?’ she asked in a rush and then opened the front door and greeted Richard, reaching up to kiss his cheek, and saying, ‘Do you mind sharing lunch? There’s an old friend of yours here, and Fiona.’

Somehow when Gus came out of the kitchen to greet Richard, he was the man in possession. He looked very at home here in this cottage, as if he were the one who visited her regularly and Richard was the almost-stranger. Sian could see it wasn’t right, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

‘Richard! Good Lord! Haven’t seen you for years! What are you doing with Sian here?’ Gus demanded jovially.

‘I don’t believe it!’ said Richard. ‘Gus! As I live and breathe! I think I should be asking you that! Sian is my—’

‘Gus came with Fiona,’ said Sian, cutting him off. She knew he was about to refer to her as his girlfriend but they’d made it a rule – well, she had – that they should always refer to themselves as just friends or, in Richard’s case, a friend with aspirations. At least until Sian was ready to go public.

Fiona, who still appeared to find the situation quite amusing, was in the kitchen, checking on the crumble which was just the right side of burnt. She put it carefully on top of the stove and greeted Richard. ‘Hello, Richard. I haven’t seen you for ages. How are your parents?’

‘Oh, they’re fine.’ Richard squeezed into the kitchen and kissed Fiona’s cheek.

‘It would be lovely if everyone could go into the other room,’ said Sian. She’d managed to get most of her turbulent emotions under control. If she kept busy, she’d be absolutely fine. ‘There’re some beers and a bottle of wine,’ she continued, and then noticing Fiona gathering up her handbag, she said, ‘Fiona, Gu— Angus, do stay for lunch. Unless there’s anything else you’d rather be doing?’

‘Are you sure?’ asked Fiona. ‘We don’t want to intrude.’

‘I think we
should
stay for lunch,’ said Gus firmly. ‘There’s loads and I can’t resist crumble. Besides, Richard and I have a lot of catching up to do.’

‘Well, could you do it in the garden?’ said Sian, tension making her snappish. ‘I need to set the table.’

‘Men are like dogs sometimes,’ said Fiona, spreading the tablecloth Sian had given her. ‘Safer with lots of space around them.’

‘Definitely. But they go back a long way, they’ll need a good chat. Glass of wine?’ Sian didn’t wait for her friend to reply before pouring a couple of glasses and handing one to Fiona. ‘Now, what have I got to do? Oh yes, dressing for the salad. So, what did I miss last night?’ Keep it light, thought Sian as she collected ingredients.

‘You missed Melissa making up to Angus as if he were George Clooney and she’d had his love child.’

Sian flinched at the word ‘love child’. She knew perfectly well that Fiona was just making a lighthearted remark, but Sian suddenly realised that it wasn’t just Gus she had to keep from finding out he was Rory’s father, it was Fiona. And women were much more perceptive than men. She was lucky Rory had inherited her fairer colouring. That might fool the world for a bit. ‘And how did Angus react?’

Fiona shrugged. ‘I think he was quite amused. She’s a pretty girl, after all.’ She paused, obviously not wanting to be seen to pry but desperate for information. ‘How well do you and Angus know each other?’

‘Not well at all. We met just before he went away. It was years ago.

‘But he remembered you.’

Sian nodded. ‘Good memory, obviously.’

Fiona sighed.

‘So,’ said Sian, ‘tell me about
your
love life. Did Robert kiss you goodnight?’ Too late she realised that they had not, officially, been talking about her love life. She hoped Fiona wouldn’t notice. She was going to have to be so careful. Every word was a potential minefield, it seemed.

‘On the cheek, yes.’

‘And James? Did he kiss your cheek?’

‘Yes, but let’s face it, all the men did. It’s what people do.’

‘True, even when you’re just being introduced.’ She added a teaspoon of mustard to her vinaigrette. A new anxiety occurred to her: supposing Gus had told his mother about their affair? Presumably he hadn’t done it already or Fiona would say something, but he could at any time.

‘You’ve put mustard in already,’ said Fiona a few moments later, giving her a funny look. ‘I think you want the honey now.’

‘Oh yes! How silly! I was miles away.’

‘Tired, I expect.’

‘I’ve no excuse to be tired. Not like you. Now let’s take this through and get the men in.’ She didn’t want to confess to Fiona about how little she’d slept.

‘So, Gus, when did you turn up like the bad penny?’ said Richard before putting a large forkful of macaroni cheese into his mouth and chewing vigorously.

‘Last night,’ said Gus. ‘I didn’t know my mother was having a dinner party and had put a cherub right in front of the garage door.’ He sent his mother a mock-angry look which made her smile. ‘My foot slipped off the clutch and the Land-Rover shot forward into it.’

‘And he came into the conservatory, swearing loudly, Richard,’ said Fiona calmly. ‘In front of all my guests. It was such a shame you couldn’t be there.’

‘I know. I miss all the good invitations – well, almost all.’

Richard looked at Sian meaningfully. She smiled, feeling awkward. Why on earth had she thought it a good idea to invite Fiona and Gus to stay? How could she have ever thought she would be able to behave naturally? Looking at the two men now, she couldn’t help comparing them. She was so fond of Richard but she knew her feelings for him had never been as strong as those she’d instantly felt for Gus all those years ago. Not only was Gus a very good-looking, easy-going man who drew everyone in with his enthusiasm and lust for life, they had a chemistry between them that defied logic. Richard was kind and thoughtful but they’d never have that essential connection. However, she knew that her feelings for Gus could so easily have been purely physical and were not the basis for a lasting, supportive relationship. She knew without a doubt that Richard could give her security and stability for Rory. She couldn’t say the same about Gus.