Summer of Love (30 page)

Fiona clapped her hands. ‘Well done. I am pleased. And you’ve taken off your commission and everything?’

‘All the expenses, yes.’

‘Thank you so much. I’m so grateful.’ She was nearly at the bottom of her glass now.

‘Fiona, I sense I’ve thrown you rather. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist.’

‘No, that’s fine. I didn’t mind you kissing me at all.’

He put her empty glass in a safe place. ‘Then you won’t mind me doing it again?’

She didn’t reply.

‘Snogging on the sofa is vastly underrated,’ said Fiona a little later.

‘Mm,’ said James, not quite so sure. ‘It makes me wish I had a chaise longue.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, after the hurly-burly …’

‘Oh! You mean the deep, deep peace of the double-bed?’

‘No wonder I love you. You understand my literary references.’

Fiona chuckled. ‘You mean by Mrs Patrick Campbell? That is the advantage of women of a certain age.’

‘But you’re not taking the hint?’ James pushed Fiona’s hair off her face with a tender hand.

Fiona swallowed. ‘This has taken me terribly by surprise, James.’

‘I know. I’m rushing you.’

‘Just a bit.’

‘Supper then? I don’t suppose I can interest you in some chicken and mushroom pie?’

Wine, relief of tension and the fact that it was funny, made Fiona giggle, just a bit hysterically.

‘I haven’t put you off altogether though?’ James refilled her glass.

‘No. Not at all. I just need to get my head round the idea, that’s all.’

‘Let’s look in the fridge to see if there’s anything to go with the remains of the pie.’

‘Frozen peas would work,’ said Fiona, opening the tiny freezer compartment in the top of his fridge. ‘What?’ He was looking at her in a rather strange way, as if he wanted to laugh, but not quite.

‘Sorry, I just have to do this.’ He took her into his arms and kissed her very thoroughly indeed.

That’s what that look meant, she realised as she kissed him back.

James drove Fiona home after supper. She didn’t ask him in but she did kiss him, fairly comprehensively, as she said goodbye. She felt giggly and happy and the minute she entered the house and was away from the situation, she wished she had just gone to bed with James, whatever the state of her underwear. She’d probably never have the chance again – or the nerve. She went to make a cup of tea, feeling that her evening could have ended in a much more exciting fashion, were she a little braver.

Chapter Nineteen

Sian was sewing on name tapes in the garden. The light was going and the large citronella candle that she had put on the table wasn’t really giving out much light. And although she was wearing a cardigan and jeans, she was also a bit cold. It had been warm earlier and she was just clinging stubbornly to the last of the summer, knowing she’d have to go in soon.

‘Hey!’ said Gus, letting himself into the garden.

‘Hey back.’ She carried on sewing, hoping he couldn’t discern the little leap her heart had given when she’d seen him.

‘What are you doing out here? It’s not really warm enough.’

‘You can see what I’m doing. It was warm earlier and for some reason I didn’t want to go in. It’s such a lovely evening. What are you doing here?’

‘I thought you might be lonely, with Rory away.’

She bit off the thread. ‘I miss him, but I know he’s having a really good time. Mum rang earlier and we spoke.’

‘So how’s your dad coping with Euro Disney?’

‘Resigned, I think. But he’ll do anything for Rory, so it’s probably fine. You can at least get wine in Paris.’

‘Talking of which.’ Gus produced a bottle from behind his back. ‘Do you fancy sharing it?’

‘I do have to do these.’ She indicated a large pile of sweatshirts, socks and T-shirts and a smaller pile of name tapes. ‘But I suppose I can’t be done for being drunk in charge of a needle.’

He laughed. ‘Let’s go in. You can’t see what you’re doing and these chairs you’ve got here aren’t all that comfortable.’

‘OK. I give in. The summer’s nearly over, isn’t it? Once Rory goes to school …’

‘That’s one of the things I want to talk to you about.’

Although his voice had that tone that people used when they were going to say something that might not be good news, Sian was calm. ‘I think I can probably guess what, and I agree with you.’

‘You do?’ Gus was obviously very surprised.

‘Yes. Bring the wine, I’ll get some glasses.’

‘I’ll light the fire, if you don’t mind. I know it’s only August but it feels damp in here.’

A few moments later she’d joined him in the sitting room, holding two glasses, a packet of crisps and Rory’s school clothes. She’d put the thread in her pocket and the needle in her lapel. The fire was crackling and she saw that Gus had lit the candles on the mantelpiece and switched on the lamp on the table next to the sofa.

‘This cottage is a bit damp,’ she admitted as she sat back on the sofa and arranged her sewing. ‘Everyone kept telling me so but I’ve only just started to notice. Maybe this is a house for summer only.’

‘Maybe.’

‘It’s irrelevant anyway. Pour the wine, why don’t you?’

‘Have you eaten?’ he asked.

She shrugged. ‘Toast and Marmite. It’s my default meal when Rory’s not with me, I’m afraid.’

‘I’ll make you something.’

‘No, I’m fine. We should discuss how to tell Rory. Should we do it together, or should I do it on my own?’

‘You mean tell Rory I’m his father? Is that what you meant?’ He seemed surprised.

Now she was confused. What else could he be talking about? ‘Yes, isn’t that what you wanted to discuss? I decided myself he should know before he goes to school.’ She frowned. ‘What did you mean?’

‘Let’s not start an argument until we’ve had at least one glass of wine.’

‘So it’s going to start an argument then? I’d better gather my resources.’ She allowed herself a quick, flirty smile and picked up another sweatshirt.

‘You can’t,’ said Sian firmly when Gus had made his statement of intent. ‘Everyone will think you’re his father—’

‘Which I am!’ insisted Gus. ‘What’s your problem?’

‘I know you’re his father and I dare say half the county knows it too, but when I registered Rory, I didn’t put your name down.’

‘That’s ridiculous. No one’s going to know or care what you put down on any damn form. You’re just making problems where none exist!’

Sian was determined to remain calm. ‘No I’m not. The school won’t want random people turning up. I bet the first day of the school year is merry hell!’

Gus got up and fiddled with the fire, rearranging the logs so that the end bits burned. ‘Rory wants me to come. He asked me if I would.’

Rory had told Sian this and she had spent a long time explaining that it wasn’t possible. Rory hadn’t been convinced by the argument but he did eventually accept that his mother had said no, and meant it. ‘He can’t have everything he wants. It’s the first rule of life.’

‘Maybe, but it’s not unreasonable for him to want his dad there when he starts school.’

‘He doesn’t know you’re his dad! That doesn’t make sense.’ She frowned. ‘And we must tell him, before someone else does by mistake.’

‘I know.’ Gus sighed.

‘And I know I will have to tell him. I just haven’t worked out when.’

‘So it’s you doing it now, is it? Not “we”?’

She’d always been the one to tell Rory important things, on her own, without a partner. ‘I know he’ll be thrilled, but you have to let me decide when the best time to tell him is. I’m his mother.’

‘Hang on! Don’t I have any say in any of this? I’m his father!’

‘I hadn’t forgotten!’

‘OK, then we’ll tell Rory about me being his dad and take him to school together.’

‘I’ve told Rory it has to be just him and me going.’ But she spoke with less conviction now.

‘You can tell him things have changed. Things do!’

‘But we’re not together. If we turn up in the school playground with Rory on the very first morning, people will see us as a couple. And we’re not.’

‘You’re worrying about nothing.’

His sudden smile made her heart lurch. And perhaps she
was
worrying about nothing. She was certainly tempted by the idea of having Gus there; sending Rory off to school was going to be a special day, but also a strange one for her, and she was sure that Gus would make it feel celebratory rather than slightly lonely. She turned away and picked up another sweatshirt. ‘Tell you what, you can come if you sew a name tape on. Here. Do it on a sweatshirt, it’s less fiddly than a sock.’

Gus narrowed his gaze and looked threatening, and then he picked up the garment Sian was handing him, and the needle and thread. He turned away from her and hunched over so she couldn’t see what he was doing.

‘I’ll get some more logs in,’ she said, unable to sit and do nothing while he struggled with a needle.

In the woodshed, filling the basket with logs that had been there since last winter and were wonderfully dry, she wondered if she’d been unkind setting him such a challenge. After all, men could never sew.

Just as she got back into the house, the phone rang. It was Melissa.

‘Hi, Sian, how are you?’

‘Fine. You?’ Sian tried to inject a bit of enthusiasm into her voice, for politeness’ sake.

‘Frightfully excited actually. The sale of the house is going through swimmingly, probably because I’m a cash buyer and there’s no chain.’

‘Oh.’

‘Sorry! That was a bit tactless. Of course it’s not good news for you, but you’ll find somewhere. There’s loads of rental property about at the moment because no one can sell. I checked that the rental market is still buoyant in case I want to rent out the cottage.’

This was twisting the knife. ‘I did think you wanted to live here yourself. Although I suppose if you don’t, I could just rent it from you and not move.’ This would have been a solution but she didn’t really believe it would happen.

‘Oh no, that wouldn’t do. I want to gut the place. So much needs doing to it. Of course if I did decide not to live in it you could rent it afterwards.’ She added hurriedly: ‘But I’m afraid you’d have to pay quite a bit more.’

‘Right, so that’s not a solution.’ Sian paused. ‘Why were you ringing again?’ She knew perfectly well that Melissa hadn’t told her and wanted to get this conversation over as quickly as possible.

‘Oh, sorree! Didn’t I say? I want to come round with a builder and an interior designer, possibly an architect. My father knows one who’ll do it for me for nothing.’

‘How lucky for you.’

‘Yes, isn’t it?’ Melissa had no notion that Sian had been sarcastic. ‘Anyway, I can only get everyone together next Monday week. Is that all right for you?’

Longing to say it wasn’t, Sian sighed. It was Rory’s first day at school. She would be feeling odd and possibly miserable anyway, so she might as well have her home invaded by Melissa and her team of eager helpers. She didn’t have to stay. She could go and cadge a cup of coffee from Fiona while they tore her home apart, possibly literally. ‘You can come at half past nine.’

‘Not before? Builders start horrifically early, you know. Half eight?’

‘Absolutely not. It’s my son’s first day at school, we’ll both be very busy at half past eight. Now I must go. See you a week on Monday.’ She put the phone down a little more forcefully than she meant to. Damn Melissa.

She went back into the sitting room with the logs. The sweatshirt with a beautifully sewn name tape on it was on her chair. A T-shirt was on top, also marked. Gus had just picked up a pair of PE shorts and had cut a name tape from the ribbon of them that curled on the table.

‘Oh. So, you can sew,’ said Sian, pretending not to be impressed and fooling neither of them.

‘Which means I get to come with you when Rory goes to school.’ Gus was firm.

‘Oh, OK.’ She sighed, feeling defeated. ‘Although I would have made you do all of them if I’d known you were so handy with a needle,’ she added more briskly.

He frowned. ‘You’re not miffed that I can sew, are you? What’s up?’

‘Your friend Melissa. That was her on the phone just now.’ She relayed the conversation to him.

‘Well, it’s a pain, but it’s not really a surprise, is it?’

‘I suppose not. I knew she wanted to redo the kitchen.’

‘I think you’re hungry,’ Gus said, getting up. ‘Top tip: never try to argue with a hungry woman. I’m going to make you a snack.’

She tried not to laugh until he was out of the room.

The name-tape sewing was finished by the time he came back with two loaded plates. She’d been wondering what he’d found to eat in her currently poorly stocked fridge, but apparently there was something.

‘No wonder you’re in a bad mood. There is no food in your house!’

‘What’s that then, if it’s not food?’

‘Beans on toast with melted cheese, but I had to slice a crust of bread sideways.’

‘You did very well.’ Now she saw and smelt the beans she was suddenly starving.

‘Tuck in then.’ He poured more wine into her glass.

As he ate the second slice of beans on toast she said, ‘You were hungry too.’

‘I’m always hungry.’