The lamb, now fed and looking a little stronger, is popped back into the Aga while we kneel down in front of the stove with plates heaped with delicious Chinese food. ‘I wish I hadn’t packed away all the wine now,’ I say.
‘Ah,’ Guy says. ‘Forgot about that.’ He puts down his plate and pads over to another carrier bag by the door. ‘A decent red, two glasses and a corkscrew.’
I laugh. ‘You really did think of everything.’
‘As I’ve got you here for one more night, I thought we’d take advantage of it.’ Then we exchange a glance that’s full of regret for what might have been.
He breaks away first and busies himself with opening and pouring the wine, sloshing healthy measures into each glass.Then he hands me one and clinks his own glass against it.
Guy sits down next to me, closer this time. My cheeks are glowing and not only with the heat from the stove. It seems bizarre in a house that’s so empty that we can feel so cosy.
‘This is very good wine,’ I say as I take a swig. ‘I’ll certainly sleep tonight.’ And that makes me flush even more.
‘To London,’ he says.
‘To London,’ I echo flatly.
Chapter Ninety
T
he children’s eyes grew heavy the minute they’d finished their food. Too much excitement for one day, I think. They’ve no pyjamas, so I get them to strip off their jeans and jumpers so that they can sleep in their little T-shirts and pants. I wonder what the progress is of our furniture and belongings and vow to give Serena a call just as soon as the children have dozed off.
Guy and I lay out one of the duvets on the floor for Tom and Jessica, then cover them snugly with the other one.
‘I like sleeping in the kitchen,’ Jessica says with a yawn. ‘Can we do it more often?’
‘Yes, of course,’ I say, hoping that she’ll have forgotten all about it in the morning. I kiss them both and tuck the duvet round their necks. ‘Sleep tight.’
The thumb goes into my daughter’s mouth. ‘Can Guy read us a story?’
‘No books,’ I remind her.
‘He can make something up.’
I glance at Guy with a smile and he shrugs that he’s up for giving it a go. He slides along the floor until he’s next to the children. ‘I could tell you a story about a pretty little girl who grows up to be a vet.’
Don’t encourage her, I think.
‘What about the boy?’ Tom mumbles sleepily.
‘What would a young boy want to grow up to be?’ Guy asks softly.
‘A farmer,’ Tom says. ‘With lots of sheep. And some black and white cows.’
Bloody hell. What have I done to these children? I’ve taken two townies and turned them into a pair of straw chewers. Or perhaps the country gene that lay latent in their father for so many years has simply been released earlier in them. How are they going to like it now, back in our cramped London flat? And my head spins as I wonder for the hundredth time whether I’m doing the right thing.
While Guy starts to tell his story to my children, I turn off the main light so that just the warm glow from the stove and a couple of spots under the kitchen cupboards keep the gloom away. Going into the scullery, I make a quick call to Serena who tells me that the furniture has just arrived and, despite the fact that they must be exhausted, the removal men are cheerfully unloading it. All of the boxes are clearly marked, so all my sister has to do is direct them to the right rooms and I can do the rest when I get there tomorrow. I blow a big kiss down the phone and tell her that I owe her before hanging up. Then I puff out a wobbly breath.Tomorrow.Tomorrow I’ll be in London.
I clear the plates away, running them under the tap to clean them as best as I can without the aid of Fairy Liquid or a dish-cloth. I can hear Guy telling the children of rolling fields and magical animals, and it makes me smile to myself. My heart contracts when I think that one day he’ll make a lovely dad.
When I’ve stacked the plates so that they’ll drain, I turn round to see that both of the children are flat out. Guy is still telling his story, even though his audience are long gone to the Land of Nod.
‘Job done,’ I whisper to him.
He glances at the children and seems surprised to see that they’re both soundly asleep.
‘You realise that I’ll now have to make up the second instalment.’
‘I’m sure you’re more than up to the job,’ he says as he stands and stretches.
‘How’s the patient?’
Guy checks on the lamb. ‘Also sleeping like a baby.’
‘Good.’ Imagine the tears now if anything happened to Stuart Little. I hope he’ll be up and reunited with his mother by the morning, then I can leave without feeling
too
hideously guilty. ‘More wine?’
‘Hmm. Great.’ Guy takes the two sleeping bags and sets them out side by side, folding them so that we can sit near the Aga and keep an eye on our charge. I refill his glass and hand it to him. He takes his place on the sleeping bag and I sit down next to him.
‘I used to be the doyen of sophisticated parties,’ I tell him. ‘Now look at me.’
‘You’ll be back to that soon enough.’
I will, I guess, and I wonder idly whether it will hold the same appeal for me now. Have I changed so much since I’ve been here? I certainly don’t think I would have given house room to a sickly lamb in my former life.
‘I’m glad you stayed,’ Guy says. ‘Somehow it felt like you were rushing away. It’s been nice to spend this time together before you go.’
I study him in the soft light. ‘You are such a nice man,’ I say. ‘Did I ever tell you that, Guy Burton?’
‘And you’re a very lovely woman.’
‘I feel I’ve really messed this up.’
‘I know this sort of conversation scares you, but do you think there might have been something between us if you were staying?’
I nod. ‘In the long term. We might have become close over the last few months, but you know that I can’t possibly consider a relationship so soon. It wouldn’t be fair.’
‘No.’ He paused, then said: ‘I don’t want to lose touch with you or the children though. When you all come up for the weekend, you’re more than welcome to stay with me. There’s plenty of space in my house. You know I’d love that.’
‘I’m going to miss you,’ I tell him honestly. ‘You’ve been very good to us.’
‘I’ll miss you too. And the children.’ He glances sadly at Tom and Jessica. It would be impossible to replace their father, I know that, but Guy has been there quietly and steadfastly for them throughout our time at Helmshill Grange and that means more to me than you could know.‘I know that you’re having second thoughts about all this. Is it really too late for you to pull out?’
‘I’ve already signed the contract on the house,’ I tell him. ‘The Gerner-Bernards are due to go to their solicitor to do the same as soon as possible. I’m not sure what the delay is. I’d hate to let them down now. They seem to be mad keen to move into the house.’ Though I wonder how much of it will be left of its heart once they’ve stopped knocking it about and have got rid of all the animals. ‘Plus I’ve taken out a six-month lease on the flat. I can’t back out of that either without it costing me a packet.’ I sigh. ‘And, at the end of the day, I can’t afford to stay here. There’s no work up here for me and I need the money. There’s no way round that. I have a great job in Town to go back to. That’s the reality of our situation.’
‘There’s really no other option?’
I shake my head. ‘And I’m looking forward to getting back to work, producing programmes.’ I’ve gone over the brief with Gavin Morrison and already I’m putting ideas together in my head. ‘It’s what I do best. It will stretch me again. Stop my brain cells from dying.’ Or dwelling too much on my loss. Then my business brain kicks in. ‘Oh, can I ask one last favour?’
My friend nods. ‘The Gerner-Bernards are coming up to take a final look around and do some measurements later in the week. I’ve given the estate agent a key, but he’s been completely useless so far. Can I leave a spare with you and tell them that you’ll be here to let them in?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thanks. That’s another weight off my mind.’
Unexpectedly, Guy reaches up and his fingers gently brush my cheek. ‘You look tired.’
‘It’s been a long day.’ My voice sounds tremulous.
Guy’s lips find mine and he kisses me softly. This is the first time I’ve kissed another man since Will died and, despite my qualms, I return the kiss hesitantly. It feels so strange to have the taste of unfamiliar lips on mine. I’m quivering inside.
‘Lie down next to me,’ he says when we part.
And, while I stand, he flicks out the sleeping bags. I slip into mine fully clothed and he does the same. Then, against my better judgement, we inch together until my back is snuggled up to him. I haven’t played spoons with anyone else other than my husband, but this feels nice and cosy. Guy’s body, even through the thick down, is warm against mine and I can feel his heart beating or maybe it’s my own. His arm slides round my waist, pulling me close to him. I didn’t realise how much I’ve missed a man’s touch. At this moment, I think that I would be quite happy to spend the rest of my life here on the floor in this bare kitchen in Guy’s strong arms. But it’s not to be and that thought is going to keep me awake all night.
Chapter Ninety-One
W
aking at dawn, the view that greets me is a graphic reminder that Hamish is a boy dog. ‘For goodness sake, you unseemly mutt, get your bits and pieces out of my face.’ I push him away, but not before he’s run his lollopy tongue over my face.
As I wipe the slobber off, Hamish plods off only to plop himself down on top of both of the children with a doggy huff. Neither of them stir.
I push myself up and peer through the window. All is still dark outside. My back hurts from sleeping on the hard stone floor and I try to massage it with both hands. My head aches and my bum is numb; one of my legs is completely dead. Guy is still fast asleep on his back, arm lifted above his head. What on earth was I thinking about, cosying up to him like that? Blame it on the wine, the warm fire and a lamb roasting in the oven, a need inside me that can’t ever be filled.
Wriggling myself out of the sleeping bag, I know already that I’m going to feel like death warmed up on the drive down to London today. I try to rub some life into my leg. It was a really, really bad idea to delay our departure even for a sickly lamb. We should have gone yesterday, made a clean break while we could. Now look how complicated things are. I’m cross with myself - just as well as I have no one else to be cross with.
‘Hi.’ I turn to see Guy looking up at me. His hand touches my arm. A wave of guilt washes over me. Did I really spend the night watching this man sleep next to me? ‘Sleep well?’ he asks.
‘No,’ I say, more sharply than I’d intended. I hardly slept a wink actually. All night, when I wasn’t looking at Guy, I tossed and turned, wondering what I was doing.
‘Do you need to get up right away?’ He reaches out for me.
‘I’ve got so much to do,’ I mumble, moving away. ‘We ought to get on the road as soon as possible.’
My guest sits up briskly and rubs his hands through his hair while he stares at me. ‘On the road?’
‘Yes.’
There’s surprise in his voice when he says, ‘You’re not still planning to go to London?’
‘Of course I am. Why?’
Guy looks hurt. ‘I thought after last night . . .’
‘What?’
His eyes fix on mine. ‘After last night, I thought - I hoped - that you’d stay.’
‘Stay? Whatever gave you that impression? We had a cuddle,’ I say. ‘And a kiss.’ I push away the image of Guy’s mouth on mine. ‘Which was wrong of us. Wrong of me. I’m still a married woman, Guy.’
‘Amy? Why are you being like this? Did you get out of the wrong side of the sleeping bag?’
‘I can’t stay here,’ I say. ‘You know that. Even if I wanted to, what difference would it make?’
‘What happened during the night to turn all this on its head?’ He looks puzzled. How is he to know that I spent the night berating myself for even considering that I might be happy with another man. It will be so much easier for both of us if I can keep Guy at arms’ length - which is what I should have done all along, of course.
‘What would William think of me?’ I say. ‘I’m the mother of his children, for heaven’s sake. He wouldn’t want me cavorting with someone else.’
Guy risks a smile at that. ‘Whatever we did, Amy, I assure you that it couldn’t be classed as “cavorting”.’
I don’t deserve happiness, I think. Life isn’t that kind. It’s cruel and it steals love away, it doesn’t hand it to you on a plate. It’s easier to stay rooted in this morning miserable greyness than consider what might happen if I move on. I’m not ready to do that yet. Perhaps I thought that I was, but I’m not.
‘I thought that you’d grown to love Helmshill Grange?’
‘Look at it.’ I wave my arm round the kitchen which has plenty of shabby, but no chic. ‘It needs a fortune spending on it. A fortune I don’t have. I’m just doing what has to be done.’
He looks stunned. ‘What on earth do you want from life, woman? No one else will tell you this, but I think that you’re making one big mistake.’
Hands on hips now. ‘Oh, really?’
‘The kids are happy here.
You’re
happy here.’
‘I’ll decide where I’m happy, and the kids. You’ve been great with them, Guy. Really great. But you’re not their dad, and you never will be.’
At that he recoils. ‘Well, that lets me know where I stand.’
‘I’m sorry that I’ve misled you into thinking that it could be any other way, but I think it’s best if we have a clean break. My emotions are all over the place and this just seems like one complication too far.’
Guy eases himself out of the sleeping bag and stands up. ‘I think that I’ve outstayed my welcome.’