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Authors: Sophie King

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Literature & Fiction, #Romantic Comedy

Falling in Love Again (26 page)

BOOK: Falling in Love Again
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There was a noise at the door. Don’t go down yet. Let him wait. Let him want her to be there.

‘Daddy’s brought my stuff,’ called up Sophie.

Don’t rush. Let him wait. Put on that new floaty top which she’d borrowed from the fashion cupboard at work and maybe . . .

‘He’s gone.’

Sophie was back in front of Sky, hugging Bruno the bear. ‘Said he’d call tomorrow. Can I stay up late to watch this Mum? She made a face. ‘Sharon never let me. Said I went to bed far too late for my age. It’s cool to be back.’

Today I can’t breathe. It’s happened before but not as suddenly as this. It came on me out of the blue, like a huge mass at the top of my chest forcing me to stop. Right there. In Marylebone High Street. Right outside the Oxfam designer shop.

Someone actually stopped and asked if I was all right which showed I must have looked awful.

The terrible thing is that I almost told this nice woman what was wrong.

So OK. I give in. I WILL make that phone call. The one you’ve been telling me to make for ages.

And if that doesn’t work, there will only be one thing left for me to do.

 

 

 

Session Eight: Dating Again -  Slowly, Slowly!

 

Do you feel lonely?

Or angry?

Both can be reasons for going out with someone else again – too soon! You want to prove that you’re still attractive. And that’s understandable, especially with spring in the air!

But be careful.

Don’t go too fast!

 

 

 

35

 

ALISON

 

Wow! Alison had forgotten how slippery the wretched thing could be! It virtually shot out of her hand, just then. Of course, she was only trying it out! She wouldn’t use it. Just wanted to check she could still put it in, that was all, after not having used it for – heavens! Had it really been that long? Somehow, just cuddling up with David had been enough for her; there was nothing more reassuring than the warmth of the person you’d known for nearly thirty years. At least that’s what she’d always thought.

Besides, it was such a performance to put it in that she had often found herself asking if he ‘felt like it’ to save herself the bother of fiddling around with all that gel.

Only now could she see that Sex by Appointment had probably been as much of a turn off for him as it had for her.

Right. One more go with maybe a bit more spermicide round the rim. Maybe if she put her foot up on the closed loo seat and slid it in that way. How crazy that there weren’t more alternatives in the contraception line for the over 50s! Maybe they just weren’t expected to do that sort of thing any more.

David obviously didn’t think so. So frankly, it would serve him right if she
did
sleep with Hugh tonight.

Rinsing her hands, Alison glanced in the mirror. Make up in place. Beige bra/body thing from La Senza (using nearly half  of Clive’s weekly rent!). A light, knee-length, polyester-might-pass-for-silk dress, and ten denier glossy tights (the warmer weather was making her feel reckless!). Mobile on Silent in the clutch handbag, along with a handkerchief. Thank goodness Jules had chosen to go out tonight! Since her daughter had moved back home, into Ross's old room, (‘I can’t afford to rent, Mum, and Ross says I can’t sleep on his sofa forever’), she hadn’t had a minute’s peace.

Just look at the mess! Jumpers strewn over the floor; empty cereal bowls on the carpet where she had had breakfast in front of the television instead of sitting up properly. Remote control behind the sofa cushions.

To be fair, Jules had gone out and got a job. But at the local deli! Had she sweated and nagged her daughter through her exams to enable her to stand behind a counter and serve croissants? What are you going to do with your life, she kept asking, and Jules would give her the kind of look that suggested she had no right to ask before telling her to go away and leave her alone.

The only person Jules seemed to be talking to was her aunt (with whom she’d always got on well), as well as the puppy. Only that morning, she’d come downstairs to find Jules curled up with him on her lap, talking quietly as she had done to Mungo when they had both been small.

‘Bye Sam.’ Alison knelt down and kissed him on his little black nose. It was so nice to be able to do that again. So lovely to be able to bury her face in his warm fur, just like she used to with Mungo. And besides, it wasn’t as though she was replacing her old dog. Just a few weeks, Karen had promised her. She was bound to have found an owner by then and in the meantime, it would help her so much if Alison could be a foster parent. ‘Won’t be long. See you later.’

The puppy was still looking at her with those dark eyes that seemed to read exactly what she was thinking. ‘Of course I’ll be back. Just don’t wait up! And don’t go getting lost in the garden again!’

‘I won’t.’

Alison whirled round. How embarrassing! Clive was standing there, with a big grin on his face. ‘Going out somewhere nice, I hope.’

She nodded. ‘Sort of. Sorry, I didn’t realise you were in.’

He strode across the kitchen and put on the kettle. For the first time, she didn’t get that funny pang she normally got when one of her lodgers did that. It almost felt nice to know that someone else was around. In fact, for a second there, she found herself wishing that she was staying in that evening with Sam on her knee and that daft series she’d started watching on E4.

‘Mind keeping an eye on Sam while I’m gone?’

‘Love to.’ Clive was kneeling down now, just as she had been a few minutes ago, stroking the puppy as though he was a kitten. ‘Nice little chap, isn’t he? Don’t go much on the name, though.’

‘It wouldn’t have been my first choice.’

‘I used to work with a girl who bought a dog after her husband walked out. She named it after him. Kenny, it was. She said it gave her a real thrill to yell out his name and find he came running back to her, unlike her old man.’

Alison giggled, wondering if she should change Sam’s name to David. Didn’t sound right somehow.

‘That’s nice.’ He gave her an odd look which she couldn’t read.

‘What is?’

Another look. ‘You’re giggling. You should do it more. And I like the way you’ve fluffed up your hair. Anyway, have a good time. And don’t worry, I won’t wait up. Or get lost in the garden. That reminds me. Would you like me to trim the hedge for you this weekend if the weather holds out? It’s quite spring-like now, isn’t it?’

How very kind! Bleep! A text message? From Caroline?

‘You didn’t tell me about writing the acne cream press release! Luckily, the client seemed to think it was all right (just as well you’re an expert on that sort of thing, thanks to your kids) but please let me know in future. I need to check it first. Still, as you didn’t make too much of a mess with it, you can have a go with another if you like. I’ll email the info (you do know how to open attachments, don’t you?). It’s about a new menopausal health supplement. Just up your street!’

Dinner at my place
, Hugh had suggested. His old place. The apartment he’d decided to stay in after he’d declined to rent one of her rooms. He’d wanted to drive over to collect her ‘to make it easier for you’ but she’d declined. If she drove herself, she could leave when she wanted.

It took longer to get there than she’d thought. The address Hugh had given her was near Gerrards Cross which she didn’t know very well. Blast! Alison’s mouth began to go dry. She hated being late and even worse, she hadn’t thought of asking for Hugh’s mobile number. Just as she thought of it, her own rang out although someone had changed the tone (Jules?).

‘Alison. I just wondered if you were lost. It’s a bit foggy tonight isn’t it and I didn’t like to think of you going round in circles.’

How thoughtful!

Gratefully, she explained that indeed she was but instead of giving her more directions, he insisted that she should pull in – ‘If you’re by the post box, I know exactly where you are’ – and he would come out in his car and she could follow him.

 

Hugh’s chivalrous behaviour at leading the way back to his apartment (‘My word, you look wonderful. I do like your hair!’), was just the beginning. From the minute she stepped through the Victorian front door into a surprisingly spacious hall with beautiful black and white tiles and lilies on the mahogany hall table, she felt at home. How could he possibly have imagined renting a room in her house when he was clearly able to afford much more?

‘What would you like to drink?’ he asked, opening a lovely walnut Georgian corner cabinet in the sitting room, which had beautiful bay windows and a window seat looking out over the common. ‘I’ve got most things here.’

He had indeed! ‘Actually, I’m afraid I’m rather boring.’ She gave a small laugh which even to her sounded ridiculous. ‘I never drink when I’m driving so that if I am stopped, I can honestly say I haven’t had a drop.’

He nodded approvingly, thrusting his hands into his brown cords which he’d teamed, rather fetchingly, with a checked shirt similar to the ones advertised in
The Sunday Times
supplements. ‘Very sensible. Let’s see . . . I’ve got apple juice; elderflower; nettle tea if you want something warmer. Want to come into the kitchen to choose?’

She followed him into – again – a surprisingly spacious, square kitchen with a gleaming range at one end and an American fridge. It smelt as though something delicious was coming from the range.

‘Vegetarian lasagne,’ he said, raising an eyebrow as though checking that was all right. ‘I haven’t eaten meat for years myself. But I’ve also knocked together a goats cheese and asparagus quiche if you don’t like the sound of the lasagne.’

A man who cooked! She could just imagine Caroline’s reaction. David’s idea of cooking had been dropping into Waitrose on the way home from work.

‘Love your apartment.’

‘Thanks.’ He spoke as though others had also complimented him in the past. ‘It actually belongs to my niece who works in the States and I thought I was going to have to leave – which is why I was flat hunting. But now she’s going to be away a bit longer.’

The same niece he had mentioned before?

‘She inherited it from my sister,’ he said quietly as though reading her unasked question.

The sister who had died. How sad!

He handed her a glass (pink fluted edges) of elderflower. ‘People say divorce is like a bereavement but death is much worse. It’s a rip-roaring agony that spreads through you from morning to night so that when you wake up in the morning, it’s still there.’

She had felt like that after David, although now it was beginning to ease off, but before she could say anything, he had turned away and was opening the oven door with a pair of blue and white striped oven gloves that looked suspiciously clean.

‘Enough of that! We’re here to enjoy ourselves. Do sit down.’

 

They had a lovely evening, despite her reservations about the clean oven gloves which had made her wonder, very uncharitably, if Hugh wasn’t used to cooking and if the lasagne and the quiche (which he persuaded her to try just to see what she thought of the recipe) were really his own.

But they were. That was definitely home-made pastry and besides, the cookery book, still out on the sparkling black and white granite counter, was covered with floury finger prints.

After pudding (a mouth-watering bowl of home-made fruit salad with mangos and pears and black grapes), they had coffee in the small conservatory that led off the kitchen. Another reason why he had leapt at the apartment, he had confided. He’d had a larger one before and it was, he had to admit, one of the things he missed.

Alison, thinking of her own lovely conservatory at home where she’d discovered cigarette ends the other day even though she had quite clearly told the lodgers that smoking wasn’t allowed in the house, understood that.

‘How are the lodgers going?’

She smiled wryly. ‘You’ll be pleased you didn’t join us. One of them nearly caused a fire and the new one plays music all night.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘What about your puppy? You were telling me about looking after him for Karen.’

He was a good listener, she’d give him that. ‘Actually, Sam is the only member of the household that’s making Jules smile. But he’s a little rascal. I had a real scare the other week when he got through the hedge into the neighbour’s garden. He was gone for over two hours and I had to tell Karen he was missing. Then minutes later, he turned up, tail between his legs, at the back door!’

Hugh made an amused noise but then there was an awkward silence. Quick! Think of something to move the conversation on! Her eyes landed on the shelves of books around the room; lovely, mahogany shelves groaning with a fascinating mixture of paperbacks and hardbacks too.

‘I love all your books!’

‘Wonderful, aren’t they!’ His eyes lit up. ‘My sister and I have always loved books.’ He reached out towards an orange spine. ‘Ever read this? It’s a wonderful account of a woman travelling round the world on her own after a divorce. Really moving.’

She flicked through, careful not to mark the pages. But it was only as she went back to the front to see who the publishers were, that she noticed the inscription.

 

‘To Adeline. Life will get better. All my love, Hugh.’

 

His sister again? Or maybe a lover?

Carefully, she put it back and then turned round. Goodness, she hadn’t realised he was so close behind her. For a moment, they both stood there looking at each other.  His eyes had a fleck of green in the blue that she hadn’t noticed before – and his nose . . .

Suddenly he moved away. ‘Now, how about a nightcap? Peppermint with just a dash of something else. Nothing, I assure you, that will get you into trouble.’

 

The ‘something else’ (Vermouth? Vodka?)  seemed to relax the rest of the evening for both of them. And Hugh was so attentive! She’d forgotten how nice it was when a man showed with his eyes that he was interested! Eat your heart out, David! She’d almost got to the point of  actually thinking that she might stay over if he asked, even though that little voice of reason told her that she was being ridiculously forward, when Hugh jumped up and announced that he wasn’t allowing her to drive back on her own.

‘No way. You might get lost in this fog. It would be much better if I led the way.’

Why was she feeling so disappointed? Didn’t Hugh fancy her after all?

‘Of course,’ he said in a low voice as he helped her into her coat. ‘I’d like to ask you to stay over . . .’

Her heart began to beat so fast it was almost in her mouth.

BOOK: Falling in Love Again
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