Summer of Love (26 page)

They drove on in silence for a while. Then Penny said, echoing what she’d said when she first found out about Rory, ‘What about Gus. Utterly gorgeous, of course, but is he the man for you?’ There, her mother had voiced her own thoughts. It was out in the open.

‘I don’t know if he even wants to be the man for me. He wants to be Rory’s dad. I’m not sure I’m necessarily part of the deal.’ Everything was such a muddle. She couldn’t think clearly about anything and it wasn’t just a simple question of ‘Do I love him; does he love me?’ any more. She knew that what she’d felt that night had been amazing, but she also knew that sexual desire could disguise itself as proper love. She had to put all that passion behind her for Rory’s sake and think what was best to do.

‘How do you feel about that? Rory’s father taking an interest in Rory?’ her mother said carefully.

‘Of course I’m happy for him to see him.’ She could truthfully say that. ‘There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be. But …’

Penny glanced across. ‘But?’

‘There’s also Richard. Now he does want me, and Rory, and he’d be brilliant. Reliable, committed, caring. If I moved in with him – married him even – I could stay in the area. He’s away a lot, so I’d have plenty of time to myself, which I do value. He’d let me work. He’d be perfect!’

‘You’re not selling him to me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean you’re telling me about all his virtues but not the most important thing: do you love him?’

‘I like him! I respect him. He’s a friend – he could become my best friend. I could come to love him. People do.’

‘You know how your father and I feel about Richard, we’re very fond of him but why would you compromise? Why live with someone you don’t love? Even if they love you – and I think he does. Watching him at the party, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He’s a good man.’

‘I know.’

‘Which is not to say that Gus is a bad man. But would he be a good husband?’

Sian didn’t answer. That was the million-dollar question.

Chapter Seventeen

When Sian and Rory went back on the train a few days later, Sian felt stronger and better able to cope with her problems. Nothing like a few days being looked after for restoring optimism and positive thinking.

She had restored Mrs Florence’s chipped table leg (by adding a cherub to hide the repair) and picked up another couple of jobs. One, painting a vine over a window, turned out so well and looked so pretty, she took photos so she could add it to her portfolio. The other job, still to be designed, involved something similar to trail over an old-fashioned lavatory cistern and included a snake. This would be fun to do, but Sian doubted if it would turn out to be a popular line.

Penny had also tracked down a couple of properties. Close to the school and affordable, just, Sian was looking forward to seeing them.

And Rory had loved his time with his grandparents, being spoilt rotten and taken on day trips by his doting grandfather whilst his mother worked. They’d both enjoyed their visit.

Fiona picked them up from the station but refused to come in for a cup of tea afterwards.

‘I won’t, darlings,’ she said. ‘You’ll want to settle in.’ When Rory had run into the garden to inspect the beans Fiona had watered for them while they were away, she said carefully, ‘Sian, if Gus came to see you, could you let him in? He’s got over his shock a bit and promised not to shout at you. He wants to get to know Rory better so that when you tell him, when the time is right, it’s not a shock.’

Sian put her shoulders back. She was a stronger woman now than she had been when she and Gus had parted after their walk. She was a grown-up; she could handle this. Plenty of people did. She’d read about such a woman in the paper at her parents’ the day before.

‘Fine! I think that sounds very sensible. But Rory already really likes Gus.’

‘I know, but Gus wants to see him knowing who he is, rather than just a nice little boy.’

Sian smiled. ‘As long as he goes on thinking he’s nice.’

So one afternoon a few days later, while Rory was playing with Annabelle, Gus came round.

‘Hi! Is Rory here?’

‘No, I’m afraid he’s out.’ Sian couldn’t help smiling. It was as if Gus had said, ‘Can Rory come out to play?’

Gus gave a rueful smile. It had probably sounded like that to him, too. ‘Well, can you spare the time to make me a cup of tea? I promise I won’t shout.’

Sian opened the door wider, suddenly aware of how pleased she was to see him, in spite of all the tension between them. ‘You’re in luck. I was just about to take a break. I’ve been painting.’

‘Can I see?’

She led him upstairs to where she was covering a small chest of drawers with tiny ponies, their tiny riders looking quite like Annabelle. ‘I got the idea after I did Melissa’s name board. Moving to the country made me aware of pony-mad girls and how I could exploit them.’

‘You’re good at this, aren’t you? Do you never yearn to paint pictures?’

Sian shook her head. ‘No. It’s illustration I love. I don’t think I could express my inner turmoil with paint and canvas.’ She smiled quickly, wishing she hadn’t mentioned ‘inner turmoil’. ‘But I had a great time in London.’

‘Yes?’

She nodded. ‘Apart from spending time with Mum and Dad, I picked up a very nice commission.’ She described the vine and the snake. ‘I also found a couple of properties to view on the internet.’ She paused. ‘They won’t be as nice as this of course, but the kitchens might be better. Let’s go down and I’ll make us tea.’

‘You’ll need space to work in any property you found.’

‘Of course, but thanks to you and Fiona, there’s the barn for bigger pieces.’ She stopped suddenly. ‘Unless you want to use that space for anything?’

He shook his head. ‘Not at the moment. It’s all yours.’

Sian made tea and they took it out into the garden. It was a relief that things seemed a little calmer between them. It wouldn’t do for there to be too much tension; it wouldn’t be good for Rory.

‘I’m going to miss this,’ she said, looking at the space where she’d dug and planted and recently picked beans and strawberries.

‘This garden in particular? Or just having a garden?’

‘This one a bit. I’ve put so much into it. But I think if I had a bit of ground – somewhere Rory can play and I can potter about – it would be OK.’

‘So,’ he said when they’d sat in silence for a while, ‘the reason for my visit. Do you think Rory would be up for sleeping in the shelter tonight? I promised him on his birthday that we would sleep in it, and I had a look at the forecast and this weather isn’t going to last for ever. It’s pretty much tonight, or not at all.’

Panic struck Sian suddenly. She was supposed to be being reasonable, allowing him access, but this seemed too much, too soon. ‘That would be a shame,’ she said cautiously. ‘What will happen to the shelter if it gets rained on?’

‘The shelter would be fine but it would be very muddy all around it. That does make it all a bit more difficult for inexperienced shelter-dwellers.’

‘I’m sure!’ Silently she struggled, turning away from Gus so he wouldn’t see her expression. She couldn’t be sure it wasn’t tortured. She saw a way out and took it. ‘The thing is, I’m not sure if Rory would actually make it through the night in the shelter. Even with you there,’ she added.

Gus had obviously thought of this. ‘Then you’ll have to come too. We’ll arrange it with Mum that any or all of us can come back into the house if we don’t like it any more.’

This was almost worse. Spending the night with Gus and Rory in a very small space hadn’t been what she’d thought of as ‘access’ when she offered it so freely before she went to London.

‘Oh, go on,’ Gus persisted. ‘I’ll buy sausages and things and we’ll cook dinner on an open fire.’ He paused. ‘I promised Rory. I don’t want him to think I’ve forgotten. It’s important he sees me as someone he can rely on.’

There was no arguing with that. ‘OK. I’ll bring something for pudding. Will Fiona be eating with us?

Gus shook his head. ‘She’s going out. It’ll be just us. No chaperone.’

‘You may joke, but what would people think if they found out we’d spent the night together?’

‘In a shelter with Rory? Not much, I don’t suppose. And what people?’

Sian relaxed, surprised she was able to joke with Gus. London really had been just what she needed, she realised. ‘You’re right,’ she said.

‘And it might be a good opportunity to tell Rory I’m his father,’ Gus continued tentatively, a question in his voice.

Sian didn’t reply. Stronger though she undoubtedly felt, and willing though she was for her and Rory to join Gus in the shelter later, she wasn’t ready to acknowledge that particular issue just yet. She looked at her watch and stood up. ‘Well, we’ll see, shall we? I’m going to have to get Rory now. What shall I bring with us?’

‘A sleeping bag for Rory but otherwise I’ve got everything, including a very expensive sleeping bag for you that my mother used once.’

‘OK, that sounds good. See you at about seven? Or is that too early? I like to get Rory to bed soon after then.’

‘I’ll be ready.’

Rory was thrilled at the thought of spending the night in the shelter, especially when he knew his mother was going to be there too. ‘Can I take my torch?’

‘Definitely take your torch. We’ll pack your rucksack with useful things.’

‘Teddy?’

‘Yup. Can’t leave him behind, I’d never hear the end of it.’

‘Book to read?’

‘Gus might read to you. Put it in.’

In the end the rucksack was quite heavy with things Rory thought essential for a night away. Sian, who wasn’t intending to change out of the old tracksuit – a bit paint-spattered – which she’d put on, took very little. Her bag did include a torch, some night cream for her face and a packet of baby wipes. She didn’t think she’d have to actually sleep in the shelter all night. She was quite sure Rory would get fed up and either want to come home, or sleep in Fiona’s spare room. Sian was sure she could borrow a nightie and a few essentials from Fiona if they didn’t come back to the cottage.

She did have a blackcurrant crumble with her. It was still hot from the oven as she’d had to make it while Rory was getting ready. Rory had already been fed at Annabelle’s but Sian was sure he’d eat a sausage or two if given the opportunity.

Gus had made a trail of tea lights to the top of the garden (possibly Fiona’s idea) where he had a campfire burning. Despite herself, Sian had to admit that it did look utterly magical.

‘Hey! Rory!’ Gus picked him up and swung him in the air. ‘Sian!’ Having replaced Rory, he kissed her cheek. ‘Great to see you both. Rory, I had to light the fire without you or it wouldn’t have been ready to cook on before we’d all fallen asleep.’

‘It’s hot!’ said Rory, hopping from one foot to the other in excitement.

‘That’s what we like. Sian, sit down, have a glass of wine. Do you want a chair or the ground?’

‘Oh, the ground,’ said Sian and immediately sat down on the cushion he thoughtfully handed to her.

Gus had gone to a lot of trouble to make everything comfortable. Apart from a fire, nearly big enough to roast an ox on, she felt, there were sleeping bags and cushions to lie on and a log with a slice off it to make a table. There were candle lanterns hanging from nearby trees and Sian could see bottles of wine, with soft drinks for Rory.

‘Wow!’ she said. ‘All we need is some soft music playing in the background and we look all set for a night of—’ She’d been going to say ‘passion’ but managed to stop herself in time. ‘Well, for a party.’

‘Music is just the touch of a button away. I always take my iPod with me when I’m on a journey.’

‘Oh no, don’t let’s have music. It doesn’t seem right, unless you can play the guitar or something.’ Sian laughed at herself, beginning to relax. ‘I think my idea of what’s right at a campfire is based on a lot of old Western movies.’

‘Then you shouldn’t have wine then,’ said Gus, pulling back the glass he was holding out to her.

‘Just coffee,’ agreed Sian, taking the glass anyway.

‘And swigs of red-eye straight from the bottle,’ said Gus. ‘Rory? You want some elderflower or something?’

‘In
Swallows and Amazons
they call it grog,’ said Rory.

Sian settled herself more comfortably, sipping her wine and slightly wishing she’d dressed up more; her old jeans and a hoodie seemed rather casual for such a beautiful setting. ‘That’s down to my dad,’ she said. ‘He won’t read Rory stories that he doesn’t like himself so Rory gets read a lot of things that are really a bit old for him.’

‘I love
Swallows and Amazons
,’ said Gus. ‘Now your granddad’s not so handy, I could read those books to you.’

‘Cool,’ said Rory, sipping his grog.

‘Now, tucker.’ Gus leant back behind the log-table and produced a large oblong metal container with a lid. ‘We have chops, sausages, steak and homemade burgers. My mother made those. She also made salad.’

‘Oh, and I’ve got pudding, in my bag,’ said Sian.

‘I thought we were going to cook the things,’ said Rory.

‘Well yes, but it’s late, nearly bedtime – for me anyway – and I thought it would take a bit long. I do have some we could cook though, but I thought your mum might be starving and need something to eat straight away.’