A Wife and Child to Cherish
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Caroline Anderson
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10
CHAPTER ONE
‘PLEASE come!’
Annie sighed and tunnelled her fingers through her sleep-tangled hair, teasing out the knots as she tried to prise her eyes open.
‘Sally, I can’t. We’ve only just got back from our holiday—I’ve got so much to do before tomorrow.’ Not to mention being exhausted from the ‘holiday’, but she really, really wasn’t going into that, or Sally would string her up. ‘Maybe next time.’
‘Yeah, right. Come on, it’s for charity,’ Sally wheedled, going straight for Annie’s weak spot like a homing pigeon.
‘I haven’t got any sponsors,’ she tried, but Sally, victorious, had the answer to that as well.
‘It’s not that kind of walk. You pay to join in—it’s only a fiver.’
‘I haven’t got a fiver.’
‘No, but I have,’ Sally replied with the air of someone pulling a rabbit out of a hat. ‘I’ll sponsor you—come on, we don’t have to pay for the kids and they’ll have such a good time together. Everybody’s doing it—it’ll be a laugh. I’ll pick you up in an hour.’
The line went dead, and Annie flopped back against the pillows, hauled one of them over her face and groaned. She was exhausted. The last thing she needed was to walk ten miles, and if she told Sally why, she’d never hear the end of it.
But Katie would love it, and Katie had missed her mum this week. It would be a great chance for them to spend some quality time together, and ten miles was nothing. She sometimes felt she walked considerably more than that every working day.
Ditching the pillow, she threw off the quilt, hauled herself out of bed and stuck her head round Katie’s door. ‘Come on, lazy-bones,’ she said with all the cheer she could muster. ‘We’re going for a walk with Sally and the boys.’
‘Now?’ Katie asked, sitting bolt upright in bed with her hair sticking out in all directions around her sleep-flushed face. A face that was already shining with anticipation. ‘I thought you said we’d got to do the washing and things today.’
‘Later,’ she said. ‘We can do it tonight. Come on, you need a shower and lots of breakfast. I’m just running down to the shop for some bread and milk, and we’ll have breakfast when I get back.’
‘Can we have eggy bread?’
‘Sure,’ Annie said, wondering if she’d got enough money in her purse and if not, if her pay cheque would have gone in yet. Sunday. Unlikely, since it hadn’t yesterday. Still, when it did…She looked in the piggy bank, but she’d already done that, she remembered. Maybe there’d be an egg in the fridge.
There was. Just the one, and the merest scrape of honey, but she didn’t need eggy bread. Katie could have it, and she’d have toast. That would be fine.
Cobbling her hair up into a knot at the back, she dragged on her clothes, blew her daughter a kiss, ran downstairs and out of the door and jogged to the little arcade of shops just two streets away, stepping over the body on the pavement by the entrance to the flats overhead.
‘Morning, Alfie,’ she sang, and Alfie grunted. She didn’t know who he was, really, just that he seemed to live there under the porch outside the flats. Every now and again someone would move him on, but then he’d come back, his ancient grey lurcher in tow, and he’d spend his nights curled up there in the scant shelter of the porch, and his days sitting in the shopping mall in town, the dog at his side on a tatty old blanket, begging.
There were times when she thought she’d join him. She certainly couldn’t afford to drink as much as him!
She bought a pint of milk and the cheapest loaf they had, and ran back to her house. Alfie hadn’t moved a muscle, but she hadn’t expected he would have. Saturday nights were usually pretty heavy ones for him, because the pickings on Saturday were richer, and Sundays were pretty quiet except just before Christmas. They’d got a few weeks to go before they had to worry about that, thank goodness. Christmas was an expense she just didn’t need.
‘Katie!’ she yelled, going back in, but she could hear the shower running and stuck her head round the bathroom door. ‘You all right, darling?’
‘Yes. Did you buy eggs?’
‘We’ve got eggs,’ she said, exaggerating a little. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. Don’t be long. Sally’s coming in half an hour and I’ve still got to shower.’
‘There they are!’
Katie streaked away from her down the drive and along the pavement, long legs flying like windmill sails, and Annie followed at a slower, rather more dignified pace to where Sally was parking. She wished she had her daughter’s boundless enthusiasm.
She slid into the front passenger seat and Sally leant over to hug her. ‘Well, hi, there! It’s good to see you. How was your holiday?’
‘Fine—a nice change,’ she said, smiling cheerfully and hoping Katie didn’t say too much, then changed the subject. ‘So—where do we start this crazy walk from?’
‘The car park in town behind the supermarket. It’s upstream along the river bank to the nature reserve, over the footbridge and back along the other side through the woods and then the park. Should be about ten miles or so. It’s a lovely walk, we’ve done it before.’
Annie stifled the urge to groan. ‘I hope my trainers hold up. The heels are getting a bit worn on the inside.’
‘Oh, Annie, you should have said—I’ve got some old boots at home! Want to go and get them, see if they’re better? We’ve probably just about got time.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m used to these, I’ll be fine,’ she said, and hoped it was true. She turned round and smiled at Sally’s two sons. ‘Hi, there, boys. Looking forward to today?’
They grinned and nodded. ‘We get stickers when we get to every stage,’ Alex said.
‘Yeah, they’re all different colours, and they make a rainbow by the end, and if you get them all, you get a badge! It’s cool,’ his little brother Ben chipped in, his eyes wide and his body almost vibrating with coiled energy.
Oh, dear. Just looking at them made Annie feel tired. It was going to be a very long day.
‘It’s a fantastic turnout.’
‘That’s because it’s sunny. Autumn’s fabulous—bright and crisp and colourful—gorgeous. It’s absolutely my favourite time of year. Just smell it.’
Annie filled her lungs with the cold, crisp air and nodded. ‘Yes. You’re right, it’s lovely.’ And it would do them good. It would.
‘I’ve brought a picnic—if David was here I’d make him carry it, but he’s working, of course, so I’ve shared it around the backpacks. Alex and Ben have each got their own, and I’ve brought some for you and Katie, because I wasn’t sure if you’d have had time to shop yet. When did you get back?’
‘Late last night,’ Annie said, ‘but you didn’t have to do that.’
‘Have you brought anything?’
‘No…’
‘Well, then. Don’t argue. It’s only sandwiches and fruit, they provide drinks on the way. Oh, good, there’s Patrick Corrigan,’ she added, pointing through the crowd. ‘There—the guy with the steely grey hair. He’s your new orthopaedic consultant—he started last week. He’s a great improvement on his predecessor—he listens, he’s got a fantastic sense of humour and he’s also very decorative. You’ll like him.’
And before Annie could move or breathe or interfere, Sally was hailing him and he was coming over to them.
Her heart sank. The last thing she needed today was to meet the new man. She was too tired to think straight, and impressing him was way down her agenda.
But it was too late to get out of it.
‘Hi, Patrick, I’m glad you could make it,’ Sally said, welcoming as ever, drawing him in. ‘Annie, meet Patrick Corrigan. Patrick, this is Annie Mortimer. Annie’s a sister on Ortho. She’s been on holiday, which is why you haven’t met her yet, but she’s a legend.’
‘She certainly is,’ he murmured, and then his eyes locked with Annie’s, and her heart, instead of sinking, slammed against her ribs so hard it was a miracle they couldn’t all hear it. Forget the grey hair. This was no older man, this was a man in his prime—and was he ever. Probably mid- to late thirties, tall and solidly muscular, the rugby shirt he was wearing did nothing to disguise the breadth of those powerful shoulders, and the twinkle in his eyes went straight to her knees…
He held out his hand, his mouth quirking into a grin. ‘Hi. Good to meet you at last.’
Annie tipped her head on one side. ‘At last?’ she said, amazed she could manage to speak with her hand held firmly in his strong, warm grasp and the little electric tingles still racing up and down her arm.
He chuckled and rolled those mischievous, openly friendly green-gold eyes. ‘If I’ve heard your name once this week, I’ve heard it a thousand times. Annie knows where that’s kept, Annie knows how to do that, oh, Annie’s in charge of that, Annie was sorting it out—veritably a legend.’
She gave an awkward little laugh and retrieved her hand before the electric shocks reduced her whole body to utter mush. ‘I’m sure I’m not.’
‘Oh, you are. You appear to be indispensable.’
‘That’s our Annie,’ Sally said with a grin, and looked around. ‘So, are you here on your own today or did you bring your wife?’
‘No wife, it’s just me,’ he said casually, but for a fraction of a second there was something in his eyes that caught at Annie, and she found herself suddenly, unexpectedly curious. Then it was gone and his friendly smile was back. ‘What about you two?’
‘Depends what you call alone!’ Sally said with a brittle laugh. ‘David’s bottled out, said he had to work—again—so I’m “on my own,” if you like, with the kids,’ she expanded, and Annie wondered if she’d imagined the little touch of desperation and loneliness in her friend’s voice. Then she added, ‘And Annie’s a single mum—she’s here with her daughter,’ and Annie felt her sympathy evaporate.
Too much information, she groaned inwardly, but it was done now.
Patrick’s eyes swivelled back to her face, and he gave a slow nod, as if something had fallen into place, but she had no idea what. Probably one of her so-called friends on the ward dropping her in it—as if Sally wasn’t quite capable of doing that without help. Well, she’d be back tomorrow, if she survived the walk, and she’d sort them all out. She hated being talked about, but a few threats regarding the rota should get them all smartly in line, and she’d have a word with Sally the minute Patrick took himself off.
But it was Sally who went first. ‘Have you registered, Patrick?’ she asked, and he nodded.
‘All sorted,’ he said.
‘Well, we aren’t, so I’m going to check us in and get us numbers,’ she replied, and before Annie could say a word she went off and left them alone together. She felt a flicker of panic and told herself not to be so silly, but before he had time to comment on the single-mum thing, Katie appeared.
‘Mummy, can I walk with Alex and Ben?’ she asked, rushing up with her hair flying and her eyes alight, and Annie realised that it didn’t matter what Sally had said. With her daughter there the questions were going to be asked anyway—and, besides, why on earth did it matter what he thought or knew about her? It didn’t. It simply didn’t.
‘OK, but make sure you stay in sight of us and don’t waste your energy. I’m not going to carry you if you wear yourself out, I’m far too tired myself.’
Katie just laughed and ran off again, but Patrick gave her an odd look. ‘You do look tired,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Must have been a hell of a holiday.’
No way was she being drawn on that. ‘Mmm, it was,’ she replied with absolute truth, pretending distraction and following Katie with her eyes.
‘She’s lovely. How old is she?’
Was there something wistful in his voice? ‘Eight,’ she told him without taking her eyes off her daughter.
He cocked his head on one side, the movement catching the corner of her eye. ‘You must have been very young when you had her.’
‘Twenty-two.’
‘Which means you’ve just had one of those birthdays with an 0 on the end.’
‘That’s the one,’ she said lightly, but she hadn’t felt light about it. She’d felt old and defeated and worn out before her time. ‘And don’t be gentlemanly and say I don’t look it, because I know it’s a lie.’
He laughed softly. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re an intelligent woman—I don’t believe you need to be patronised by my opinion, one way or the other, and particularly not on such short acquaintance. Besides, I’ve got no room to comment anyway. By the time I was your age I’d gone grey. I’ve spent the last ten years telling people that, yes, I really am that young and not overdosing on Botox!’
She laughed, as she was meant to, and then, cocking her head on one side and studying him, she said, ‘So if you were my age when you went grey, you’re—what, coming up for forty?’ And then wondered why she was being so nosy and giving him the impression she was interested. But, in fact, all she did was make him wince.
‘Ouch,’ he murmured, but he was still smiling. ‘No, I’m only thirty-six—and for the record, I didn’t say you did look thirty. I simply said I wouldn’t presume to venture an opinion and, anyway, youth’s grossly overrated. I’d swap it for interesting any day of the week.’
She nearly laughed out loud. If her face reflected her life, it would be all too interesting—and she had no intention of going there. But him—now, he was interesting. She found her eyes straying to his hair, fascinated by the colour and texture of it. Her fingers itched to touch it, and she stuffed her hands into her pockets and said without thinking, ‘So does going grey so young run in the family, or was it just one of those things?’
The twinkle faded from his eyes. ‘One of those things,’ he said, but the subject was suddenly, abruptly closed.
Oh, hell. Her and her mouth. He was probably adopted. Or was he still really sensitive about going grey so young? In which case, why bring the subject up at all?
‘Right. Numbers, map and instructions,’ Sally said, appearing in front of them without Annie having been even subliminally aware of her approach. She took the proffered information, shoved the map in her pocket without glancing at it and looked around for Katie, grateful for the interruption in what had become a suddenly awkward conversation.
‘She’s with the boys,’ Sally told her, reading her mind. ‘Right, I think we’re just about to set off.’
‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ve just seen Tom Whittaker with his family. I’d like to go and say hello.’ Patrick smiled a little vaguely at them both, waggled his fingers and strode off into the crowd, leaving Sally staring after him, a puzzled look on her face.
‘Did I just miss something?’ she said.
‘I don’t know,’ Annie said slowly. ‘We were talking about my age, and whether or not I looked it—or rather that it would be polite not to discuss it—and we started talking about his hair, and then…I don’t know exactly. I asked if it ran in the family or was one of those things, and he just shut down. Odd, because he’d been really open and chatty up to then.’
‘How strange. I wonder why?’
‘Why what? Why he went quiet, or why he went grey?’
‘Either. Both.’
‘Pass—but he isn’t talking about it, so I don’t suppose we’ll ever know. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, does it?’
‘If you say so,’ Sally murmured.
Annie didn’t bother to rise to that. The less interest she showed in the subject, the sooner Sally would let it drop. All her matchmaking efforts to date had fallen on stony ground, and to Annie’s relief she’d pretty much given up, thank goodness. This time would be no exception.
They fell into a companionable silence as the group moved off, spreading out gradually until they were strung out along the river path. It was just about wide enough for them to walk two abreast, and out of the corner of her eye Annie could see that Sally was preoccupied. Her earlier words and tone of voice about David being at work—again—came back to Annie, and after a while she took the bull by the horns.
‘Is everything OK with you and David?’ she asked softly, and elicited a surprised laugh from Sally.
‘Of course it is. Whatever made you ask that?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. You just sounded a bit down earlier, really. Lonely, almost.’
Sally’s denial was swift and emphatic, and unconvincing. ‘Good heavens, no. I mean, it would have been nice to have him here, but—well, he’s working. It’s not a surprise. He’s always working these days. If I didn’t know he was just a workaholic I’d think he was having an affair with his PA!’
It was said lightly and meant as a joke, but there was something tense about her voice that made Annie wonder.
‘Of course he’s not,’ she said, but she didn’t know that, and there was no ‘of course’ about it. After all, her own husband had fooled her for two years while their lives had gone down the pan, and she’d been utterly unaware for the vast majority of the time.
And had been paying for it ever since.
They paused for lunch at twelve-thirty, in the nature reserve just before the footbridge, and Annie wondered if she’d ever be able to get to her feet again. Her heels were beginning to rub, and they were only about halfway through the walk, if that.
‘Maybe I should have taken you up on your offer of the boots,’ she said ruefully, peeling down her socks and inspecting her reddened skin.
‘Oh, Annie! I’ll bring them into work tomorrow.’
‘What, ready for next year?’ she said mockingly. ‘You know you’re the walker, not me.’
‘You ought to do more. It would do you good. And Katie loves it, don’t you, Katie?’
Katie nodded her head, her mouth too busy with her banana to be able to speak, but her eyes said it all. She was having a fabulous day, and if only Annie wasn’t so busy all the time they could have been doing this sort of thing more often.
Damn Colin…
‘Right, you guys, have you all finished? Alex, pick up the rubbish, please, and put it in that bin. Ben, can you get all the cups and put them in my rucksack? Make sure they’re empty.’
Annie pulled her socks up, eased her feet back into her trainers and tried not to wince. Damn. Her heels were going to break down before long, and she still had five miles to walk. It seemed insurmountable, and for a fleeting moment she felt the tears of pain and frustration welling up.
But she was made of sterner stuff than that. She’d survived Colin. She could survive anything.
She got up, dusted herself down and smiled at the children.
‘OK, guys?’
‘OK!’ they chorused, all of them the picture of happiness, and she couldn’t regret coming, even if it did mean she’d be hobbling for a week.
They set off again along the broader path that ran through the nature reserve, and as she detoured to the bin to dispose of her sandwich wrapper, she bumped into Patrick.
Literally, turning from the bin and colliding with his chest, so that her nose was against the soft cotton of his rugby shirt and she could smell soap and the warm, masculine scent of his skin.
‘Whoops. Careful.’ His hands came up and steadied her, his eyes with those sinfully dark lashes smiling down at her, and her heart did that silly flip-flop thing again before he let her go.
He tossed his rubbish into the bin, and fell into step beside her as they rejoined her little group on the path. She thought he’d go then, wander back to the Whittakers, but he didn’t. He stayed with them, and the Whittakers drifted over, and they ended up walking together in a big group. Fliss and Sally got into conversation, Tom was talking to his oldest daughter, teasing her about something and making her laugh, the other children were tramping along through the autumn leaves ahead of them and kicking them up in the air, and that left Annie and Patrick bringing up the rear.
It felt a little engineered, but she told herself not to be paranoid. It was probably just coincidence, but she wondered if he’d mind, if her earlier remark was still rankling, but he didn’t mention it and he was perfectly friendly, so she decided he’d got over it.
‘So what brings you to Suffolk?’ she asked. And then wondered why she couldn’t manage to steer clear of the personal questions for a single minute! But he didn’t seem to mind, and replied easily enough.
‘The job.’
‘No family connections?’
He pulled a thoughtful face and shrugged. ‘Sort of, I suppose. Family history, really, rather than connections. My mother was born in Bury St Edmunds and my father studied medicine at Cambridge, and they’ve often talked about retiring to this part of the world. They haven’t done anything about it and they’re still happy in Sussex, but when the job came up and looked so interesting I thought I’d have a go. It’s a busy department, lots of joint work, and there should be enough trauma to keep the adrenaline pumping and the mind engaged. And when my parents get round to retiring, the fact that I’m already here might give them the incentive to move this way. If not, they can come and stay and visit relatives, so it works either way.’
‘For them, but what about you?’ she asked, again forgetting that she wasn’t going to be curious. ‘How do you feel about Suffolk?’
He shrugged and gave a half-smile. ‘I don’t know enough about it yet to comment. It doesn’t make a lot of difference where I live, it’s the job that’s important and I wanted the job, regardless of where it is.’
‘So—no friends? No other ties?’ she asked, and then shook her head, reining herself in again. ‘I’m sorry. Forget I said that. It’s none of my business.’
There was a beat of silence, then he said, ‘No, there are no other ties.’
His voice had got that distant thing going again, and she wanted to kick herself. She would keep digging away, trying to get to know things about him, and it was really none of her business, as she’d said. Anyway, if she kept asking him things, there was a real chance he’d start asking her, and that was the last thing she wanted.
So she shut up, and for a while they walked in silence, then the path narrowed and she moved ahead of him, horribly conscious of his eyes on her. What would he be thinking? Probably nothing. Probably what a busybody she was.
‘Are you OK?’
She shot him a surprised look over her shoulder, and he pointed to her feet.
‘Oh. That. I’ll live.’
‘I wasn’t questioning that, but you’ve been limping for the last mile.’
‘I have not.’
‘I believe you have, you stubborn woman,’ he said mildly. ‘Let me look.’
‘No. I’m fine. Stop fussing.’
‘I’m not fussing, I’m just concerned.’
‘Well, don’t be. I haven’t given you the right to be concerned.’
‘I didn’t know I needed to have rights to be concerned.’
‘Well, now you do, so back off. As I said, I’m fine.’
‘So what’s the blood on the back of your left sock?’ he asked, and she stopped and shut her eyes.
Damn. She knew they’d got sore, but not that sore. Now she thought about it, though…
His hand was firm but gentle on her shoulder, pressing her down until she sat on a fallen tree trunk by the side of the path. He faced her, hunkering down and easing off her shoes. For a moment he paused, studying them in silence, and she was getting all ready to comment if he dared to say anything about the state of them when he carefully, and very precisely, set them down and set about removing her socks, running long, strong fingers gently over the sensitive skin of her heels around the broken blisters. ‘Ouch. Got any plasters?’
She shook her head and he was gone, returning a minute later with a couple of padded blister plasters. ‘You just have to know the right people,’ he said with a grin, and smoothed them in place, sending shivers up her legs.
She pulled up her socks and slid her feet back into her trainers before he could touch them again and send her over the brink. ‘So who do I have to thank for the plasters?’ she said, trying for a smile.
‘Tom’s wife.’
‘Oh, Fliss. I might have known, she’s a star. She always thinks of everything. I should have asked her earlier.’
‘You should. Here,’ he said, holding out a hand and pulling her to her feet with a cautious smile. ‘OK now?’
She nodded grudgingly. ‘Much better. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure. Let me know if it all gets too much.’
‘What are you going to do? Carry me like some kind of knight in shining armour? Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I’ve had worse ideas,’ he said. ‘But since I don’t have a horse to chuck you on, it would probably mean a piggy-back.’
Her heart hiccuped at the thought. ‘You’re mad. I’m far too heavy.’
He snorted rudely. ‘Rubbish. You weigh next to nothing.’
‘I’m five foot nine!’
‘And built like a stick insect,’ he retorted.
She couldn’t argue. The truth of it was she was fading away. At the moment she could say her bone structure was architectural. It wouldn’t be long at this rate, though, before she looked downright gaunt. Still, the last week should replenish the coffers a bit when the payment went in, and she’d be able to afford to eat something decent then.
‘Just because I don’t look like a full-back,’ she muttered.
‘Second-row forward,’ he corrected with a grin, ‘and I agree, you’re much prettier.’
‘Well, thank heavens for small mercies,’ she said, making note of the fact that he was obviously a rugby player, and he chuckled.
‘Come on, then, Twiggy, let’s hit the trail,’ he said with a teasing smile, and she turned her back on him and set off again, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and not wimping out, because in point of fact there was nothing she’d like more than to be sitting on his back, with her legs wrapped round his waist and her arms around his neck, resting her cheek against those broad, strong shoulders—
She stumbled over a root, and his hand came out instantly to steady her.
‘OK?’
She nodded, sudden unexpected tears filling her eyes. So silly, but it had been such a long time since anyone had shown any concern for her.
No. That wasn’t true. Sally was concerned, and Katie, and her parents were wonderful.
A man, though. She couldn’t remember when a man had last done anything for her, even something as simple as steadying her arm or tending to her blisters, and now that Patrick had, it was threatening to reduce her to tears.
‘Good girl,’ he said softly—so softly that she hardly heard him, but she did, and his approval kept her going all the way back to the car park.
She was turning to thank him and say goodbye when Katie came over, tired but still relentlessly cheerful, to show off her badge. ‘Look! Isn’t it cool? We all got one—oh, and Sally says would we like to go to supper? Please, say yes!’
She looked up to meet Sally’s eyes, and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Sally, I’m really bushed. I just want to go home and have a long, hot soak in the bath and put my feet up.’
Most particularly the feet.
‘Oh, Mummy, please! They’re having a take-away!’
‘Why don’t I drop you home and take Katie on for supper and drop her back to you later? That way you both get to be happy.’
‘If you don’t mind,’ Annie said, catching her lip in her teeth and trying not to think about the take-away. She could always have beans on toast—if she had any beans…
‘Why don’t I give you a lift home to save Sally going out of her way? You live near me.’
She turned to Patrick in surprise. ‘How do you know where I live?’ she asked.
‘I think one of the staff nurses mentioned it when I told her where I’m living. Don’t worry, it’s nothing sinister,’ he teased gently, and then, getting back to the point, he carried on, ‘Then Sally can bring Katie back later and you can have your soak in the bath.’
‘Sorted. Well done, Patrick. Come on, then, kids, let’s go and get pizza!’
And before she could say a word, Sally had whisked the kids away and he was helping her into the passenger seat of a sleek, sexy BMW and she was being taken home in a style to which she could definitely become accustomed.
Given the chance, which she wouldn’t be.
She didn’t get involved with men. Once bitten, and all that, and there was no way this one was going to wheedle his way into her life. And if he thought she was inviting her in…
‘What are you doing about supper?’
She turned to him in surprise. ‘Eating it in the bath,’ she said bluntly.
‘Want company? It’s just that I’m starving, and the Chinese round the corner opens in about half an hour.’
‘My bath’s not that big,’ she said drily, trying not to imagine the smell of a special chow mein, but he just laughed softly and shook his head.
‘Pity,’ he said under his breath, and she had the distinct feeling she hadn’t been meant to hear it. ‘So what’s it to be—Chinese take-away or beans on toast again?’
‘How did you know?’ she asked, and then could have kicked herself.
His shoulders shifted a fraction. ‘Because you’ve been away, you got back late last night, you said, and I don’t suppose you had time to go shopping this morning before you went on the walk. It therefore stands to reason you’re unlikely to have much in the house to eat.’
‘I don’t need your handouts,’ she said sharply—a little too sharply, if the frown that pleated his brow was anything to go by.
‘It’s hardly a handout,’ he said, the soft rebuke stinging for all that. ‘We’re talking about a set meal for two and a packet of prawn crackers—and if we really push the boat out, I could pick up a bottle of wine. I just thought we might both appreciate a bit of company while we refuel, but if you’d rather not, just say so.’
She opened her mouth to say no, felt churlish and tired and hungry and confused, and shut it again. Besides, there was that touch of loneliness, of isolation, in his voice again.
So instead of saying no, she found herself giving in to his gentle persuasion. ‘Just give me time for a bath first,’ she pleaded, and he grinned.
‘Sure. I’ll see you in an hour. Now, which is your house?’
And as he pulled up outside and waited for her to get out, she wondered what on earth she was letting herself in for…
