An Autumn Affair (7 page)

She didn’t want to bleat on to Doug about how miserable she was. He had enough on his plate with his new job. And she didn’t want to appear ungrateful. Besides, she was an adult. Perfectly capable of sorting herself out. So she adopted the same coping strategy she’d used at school and subsequently back in Jarrow: she began treating Buttersley Hall exactly as she had her room at Briardene and her bedroom at home. This time the house was her haven. Hers and Josie’s. And they spent as much time there as possible. Of course, as time went on, she knew she couldn’t keep Josie to herself forever. The child had to go to nursery, then school. The thought of sending her anywhere she might be miserable almost killed Miranda. Naturally Doug insisted on the best in the area, and Miranda added in the proviso that if Josie wasn’t happy, they’d remove her immediately. But Josie had been happy. An easy-going, contented child, Josie would’ve been happy anywhere. And, as the years clicked by, she became increasingly independent, forming her own network of friends, and spending more and more time at the tennis club Miranda had introduced her to when she was seven.

Having had her fill of being shunned over the years, Miranda had made no effort to mix with the mums at Josie’s school, or at the tennis club. She’d been perfectly content with her daughter’s company. But as Josie made her own life, Miranda began to feel isolated. Doug’s visits home were fleeting. He was making a fortune but boy was he working for it. So while her husband’s career went from strength to strength, Miranda became slowly redundant. And then Lydia Pembleton moved to the village.

Brash, feisty and fun, in many ways Lydia reminded Miranda of Tina – her childhood friend back in Jarrow. She and Lydia met when the woman’s car had broken down just outside the village. Returning from the supermarket, Miranda offered her a lift home. Lydia invited her in for a drink and, ignoring Miranda’s request for a cup of tea, popped open a chilled bottle of Chablis. As the alcohol did its work, Miranda slowly relaxed and began to enjoy herself. She felt young and happy again. So, when Lydia invited her to a barbecue she was hosting the following week, she accepted.

Of course it hadn’t taken long for Miranda to realise that Lydia was completely self-absorbed and a total narcissist. But, despite that, Miranda always had fun in Lydia’s company. And what, frankly, was the alternative? Sitting in her huge house alone watching TV?

Doug, though, just as Miranda suspected, had been unimpressed by her new friend.

‘She’s a bit in your face, isn’t she?’ he remarked on first meeting Lydia.

Miranda couldn’t deny it. Lydia was very much ‘in your face’, but she kept life interesting. Sometimes so interesting that Miranda ran out of energy attempting to keep up with her. Indeed, although she would never dare admit it to Lydia, there were times when, rather than hitting a nightclub, or jetting off to Marbella, Miranda would’ve preferred snuggling up to her husband and watching a soppy film, or going for an evening walk, just the two of them. But she couldn’t do either of those things because Doug was never there. A fact she dealt well with – mostly. Except on those days she felt completely purpose-less; when she longed for some ingenuous human company. And it was on one of those days that she made the biggest mistake of her life.

It had been early September, a glorious day with the sun blazing down from a cloudless sky. Miranda, incredibly bored and lonely, with nothing else to do, had spent the entire day in her bikini by the side of the pool, sipping Pimms and listening to old nineties tracks on her iPod.

Shortly before five o’clock, Eduardo arrived for Josie’s tennis lesson, but no sooner had Miranda exchanged pleasantries with him than his mobile rang. It was Josie – stuck in town. She apologised and rearranged the lesson for the following day. Understandably, Eduardo was less than impressed.

‘Now I have free hour,’ he huffed, in his thick Spanish accent. ‘And nothing to do.’

Horizontal on her sunbed, tipsy from the alcohol, and fed up with being on her own, Miranda waved an airy hand. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll pay you for the hour. And if you want something to do, why don’t you stay and have a drink?’

Eduardo blew out an exasperated breath. ‘You mind if I have swim?’ he asked, gesturing to the pool.

‘Of course not,’ replied Miranda. ‘Help yourself.’

At the questioning dark eyebrow raised in response to her blasé statement, and the accompanying visual appraisal of her bikini-clad body, Miranda couldn’t resist a surreptitious smile as Eduardo whipped off his T-shirt and dived gracefully into the pool. It was a massive confidence boost to know she could still attract the attention of someone ten years her junior – and someone as good-looking as Eduardo. She reached for her glass and knocked back another large slug of Pimms. Watching the Spaniard from behind her Gucci sunglasses, his strong arms slicing effortlessly through the water, she suddenly felt extremely hot and bothered. A situation not helped when he hauled himself out of the water and came to stand before her, rivulets of water running down his strong, muscular body.

‘Your husband? He is home?’

Miranda shook her head. ‘He’s never home. He’s working in Dubai at the moment. And after that, who knows where.’

Eduardo’s dark eyes grew even darker as they roved, once more, over her toned, almost naked body, this time leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

‘Then you are alone a lot?’

‘A lot,’ she murmured, her head beginning to swim under the intensity of his gaze.

‘I think he must be very stupid man, leaving such a beautiful woman alone.’

Miranda gulped. As corny as the line was, the way he said it caused her stomach to flip over. ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she eventually replied. The last thing she wanted was people feeling sorry for her so she injected as much bravado as possible into her tone. ‘I love having the freedom to do whatever I like.’

Eduardo’s gaze grew even darker. ‘And what do you like?’

Damn! She’d walked right into that one. Miranda’s heart began to beat a tad faster as a cocktail of excitement and panic coursed through her veins. This was getting heavy, but:

a) she was too drunk to care, and

b) she was enjoying the flirtation.

Eduardo plumped down on the edge of the neighbouring sunbed, before reaching across and trailing a finger down her cheek. ‘Do you like this?’ he asked, his voice now husky with lust.

Looking into those delicious brown eyes, framed with lashes most women would kill for, Miranda found herself devoid of the ability to speak, the ability to move, the ability, in fact, to do anything other than nod.

‘What about this?’ he continued, this time trailing his finger down the side of her neck.

Again Miranda nodded.

‘And this?’ He leaned over and kissed her. A deep, passionate kiss that set every nerve in her body on fire and caused her head to reel. She had been well and truly lost. So much so that, before she knew what was happening, the deed had been done, without her moving from her sunbed. It happened only once. Eduardo’s mobile had rung immediately afterwards and he’d scuttled off, muttering something about Lydia. Miranda hadn’t taken much notice. For over an hour, she’d been too shocked to even move. The whole thing had been completely surreal. Then, when she had eventually peeled herself off the sunbed and staggered up to the house, she’d headed straight for bed and fallen into a fitful sleep.

The following day, Eduardo appeared at the house looking like butter wouldn’t melt. As courteous as ever, he’d given Josie her tennis lesson, then left. Miranda briefly wondered if she’d dreamt the whole sordid episode. Then progressed to dismissing it as a mere drunken fumble; nothing to beat herself up about. But a few weeks on, one missed period and six pregnancy tests proved it had been much more than that. Precisely why she shouldn’t be wasting time in Marbella, pretending to enjoy herself. She should be at home. Arranging things. That, however, involved a huge amount of energy. Energy she didn’t have. On the bedside table, her mobile buzzed. She swiped it up. Her mother’s number flashed at her. Miranda heaved a frustrated sigh. The woman had been trying to contact her for three days now, but Miranda had flicked off the phone each time. With a stab of guilt, she supposed she’d better answer it this time.

‘Hello,’ she barked.

‘Oh, hello, dear,’ said her mother. ‘I’m sorry to bother you. Are you busy?’

‘I’m in Spain.’

‘That’s nice. Is Josie with you?’

‘No,’ Miranda snapped. ‘Josie’s at home. I’m here with a friend.’

‘Oh.’ Her mother sounded weary. ‘Well, I just wanted to let you know that your father is going into hospital for more tests on Thursday.’

Miranda rolled her eyes. Her father was always going into hospital for tests. ‘What for this time?’ she asked, unable to quell the impatience in her voice.

‘His heart again, dear. You know how it is.’

Don’t I just, Miranda resisted saying. Given that that’s all you talk about every time you call.

‘He’d love to see you, you know.’

Miranda blew out an impatient breath. ‘I know, Mum. And I will get across there soon. It’s just that I’m very …’

‘… Busy. I know. Well, not to worry. You just let us know when you can fit us in.’

Miranda ended the call, feeling ten times worse than she had when she’d answered it. Now, on top of everything else, a whole heap of guilt had been dumped on her regarding her inadequacies as a daughter. Add that to her inadequacies as a wife, mother and friend, and her CV looked far from impressive.

*****

Julia permitted herself a metaphorical pat on the back. This was the third Friday shop she’d completed, and the third time she hadn’t bumped into Max. But the best of it was that this week she wasn’t even bothered by not bumping into him. Well, not much, anyway. She hadn’t even, much to her own amazement, lingered long in the cereal aisle. And, the biggest achievement of all was that she suspected she might have purchased every single item on her shopping list. After the forgetting of the loo rolls last week, which had, according to Faye, been a sin worse than any of the deadly ones, normality had been resumed. And, although ‘normality’ in Julia’s life could be substituted with words like ‘mundane’, ‘boring’ and ‘humdrum’, she concluded it was for the best. What, after all, had she been hoping for if she had bumped into Max again? That he would take her away from it all? Whisk her off into the sunset? Of course he wouldn’t. He’d moved on with his life. Done exciting things. Travelled. Enjoyed a successful career. As well as no doubt savouring a string of beautiful, equally successful girlfriends. No, the two of them wouldn’t have a thing in common now. So Julia should just accept the fact that her destiny did not include excitement; that there were two sorts of people in the world – the doers and the plodders. And she was well and truly ensconced in the plodder category.

Loading up the boot of her car with carrier bags, she started at the sound of a voice behind her. A deep, melodious voice. And one oh-so-familiar.

‘Julia.’

She whipped around to find Max striding across the car park towards her. Her heart leaped into her throat, while the carrier bag she’d been about to hurl into the car tumbled back into the trolley.

‘M-Max,’ she stammered, as he came to stand directly in front of her. ‘How, um, are you?’

‘All the better for seeing you,’ he replied, with a smile that sent delicious shivers of lust down Julia’s spine. ‘I was hoping to bump into you again.’

Julia felt colour rise in her cheeks.

‘How’ve you been since I last saw you?’

Miserable. Ratty. Confused, Julia resisted saying. Completely pathetic given that Max probably hadn’t given her a second thought. Although something about the way he looked at her made her suspect that might not be true. ‘Okay,’ she muttered.

‘I wondered if you’d like to go for a coffee.’

Julia’s mouth dropped open. Coffee? With Max? On a Friday afternoon? She couldn’t. She totally couldn’t. She wasn’t mentally prepared for that kind of meeting. It was fifty steps ahead of a quick chat in the cereal aisle. Besides, she had things to do. Ironing, for instance. Lots of ironing. And the twins’ tea to make. And she was a married woman. She couldn’t just go for coffee with an ex-boyfriend. What would people think if they saw her?

‘I’d love to,’ she replied.

Chapter Five

Much to her own amazement, Julia immediately suggested a venue: the coffee shop at the garden centre along the road. Max followed her there in his Audi A4. A classy, understated car that seemed perfect for him. Paul had a flash Jag which always embarrassed Julia. On the rare occasions she had to drive it, she always felt honour-bound to explain that it wasn’t hers. But no flashy boys’ toys for Max. No flashy anything. Even his tan was subtle. And every time she looked in her rear-view mirror, there he was. Looking straight back at her – with those amazing grey-green eyes. Eyes that reignited feelings Julia never, in a million years, thought she’d ever experience again. But this couldn’t possibly be right. She shouldn’t be experiencing those feelings. She should never have accepted his invitation. What would they talk about? Would he think her the most boring woman on the planet? What the hell was she doing? And why did it seem to be taking an interminable amount of time to reach their destination, when it was actually only a ten-minute drive away?

‘Good choice,’ said Max, when they eventually reached the garden centre and he climbed out of his Audi, which he’d parked right next to Julia’s Fiat. For the first time in her life, Julia felt embarrassed by her car. Perhaps she should take Paul up on his long-standing, oft-repeated offer of a sporty Merc after all. It would undoubtedly impress Max a lot more than a ten-year-old battered Punto.

‘Do you bring all your ex-boyfriends here?’

Her head continuing to whirr, Julia blushed to the roots of her hair. ‘Hardly,’ she tutted. ‘Should we sit outside?’ She indicated the pretty garden to the side of them, with half a dozen wooden tables and benches, none of which were occupied.

‘Perfect,’ said Max, looking at her in a way that implied he was not referring to the potted plants.