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BOOK 4
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Being Yours BOOK 4
She resolved to try what he had suggested, but not now. I must be getting old, she thought as the spotlights dimmed away and the house lights blinked on. I really feel I've had enough for today. Twenty-nine and I'm past it.But when Paul rejoined her at floor level, his enthusiasm cheered her like a tonic. 'It's fun up there, isn't it? Who works the lights for your shows?''On this one, a couple of sixth-formers.'She stared up at him. For some reason the house lights made his tie seem bluer, and brought out the blue of his eyes. His hair had curled tighter and his olive skin shone a little, from the heat trapped under the roof she supposed, but it looked like sheer good health.The blue eyes sought hers. Thinking how haggard and worn she must look, she refused to meet them. If only he didn't always make her feel at a such a disadvantage.'Supposing we find somewhere to eat?' he suggested gently.At least he hasn't said I look as if I need it, Amy reflected. She knew she did need to e
Being Yours BOOK 4
'I can't remember,' Paul admitted. 'But there are lots of trimmings.''Cauliflower maybe, and broccoli, steamed, not boiled . . .' She broke off, the vision fading. 'Roast beefs a meal for Sunday dinner,' she told him sadly. 'They won't be serving Sunday dinner on a Tuesday evening.''Let's see, shall we?'From the outside the Half Moon was a traditional, cosy Kent pub, white-walled and gabled, standing by itself at the end of the village. Its sign intrigued Amy. Its painted, star-flanked half-moon had flying across it the last creature she would ever have expected to see over the peaceful, Kent-style hills painted below it.'A dragon?' she murmured, staring up at it.'Brings good luck,' Paul told her. 'This way.'After the cool night of the car park, the inn's bar greeted them with a luxurious warmth. As she and Paul picked their way through various groups who sat on squashy black leather benches round low white tables, Amy slowly took in pale walls with gilt-framed seascapes, a grey
Being Yours BOOK 4
'I'm sorry, I forgot to ask if you wanted a pudding,' Paul said. 'Or coffee . . .''Nothing more, thank you.'He paid the bill from an ancient, battered wallet of some soft leather from which the gilt flourish of his initials had almost worn away. The waitress, apparently satisfied with her tip, picked up their plates and departed.'Right.' He put away his wallet, and started to rise. 'Let's go . . .''Wait.' Amy stayed firmly where she was. 'I . . . I'm sorry I've left this till now,' she began, still awkward from his coolness of a few moments ago. 'I suppose it's because I've had a lot on my mind . . .''You want to pay your share?''Something like that,' she said, relieved to have the words spoken. 'How did you guess that was what I wanted to say?''I've had supper with one or two women before.''Oh.' Amy wondered why she should find that so surprising. He was an attractive man, of course he would know lots of women. She badly wanted to hear if he was currently seeing anyone, but e
Being Yours BOOK 4
'Does he really live alone in this great place?' Paul asked.'I agree it's miles too big for one person,' Amy said. 'He doesn't use half the rooms . . .' She broke off, hating to show that she knew the house from the inside, hating herself for knowing it. As she limped along at Paul's side, treasuring the warmth of his hand round hers, she wondered why her knee should suddenly feel so much worse. Could fear really have such a specific effect? But she wouldn't be afraid, she wouldn't.'He inherited it from grandparents, I think,' she added, trying to keep her mind on everyday things. 'He says it has happy memories of his childhood.'There, that helped, picturing Robert as a little boy with adoring grandparents. But the relief lasted only until she lifted her gaze to the broad window above and to the right of the entrance, the window of the bedroom where . . .No, she wouldn't think about that. Trying to keep her mind away from it, she stared instead at the little niche, sharp-edged in
Being Yours BOOK 4
'I'm sorry we've interrupted your dusting,' she said, polite as a visiting vicar. 'I don't suppose you get much time for chores, with your busy life.''I'd done most of it,' Sarah admitted ungraciously. 'You should have seen the dust and cobwebs - it was like Miss Havisham's wedding.''It . . . it certainly looks nice now,' Amy offered. 'Very welcoming.' She spoke from an half-conscious desire to conciliate, but quickly realized that what she said was true. Though the room might not be to everyone's taste it had a timeless, traditional charm which eased the eye and the spirit. With the fire lit and a trolley of homemade cakes and scones, it would be an agreeable place to be invited for afternoon tea.Sarah acknowledged the compliment only with an indeterminate noise, but dipped her head and regarded Amy from below thick, dark, untrimmed eyebrows.The idea of tea inspired Amy to another gambit. 'You said you were baking?''Sponge cake,' Sarah answered.I knew it, Amy thought, amused in
Being Yours BOOK 4
He's not such a conventional dreamboat, Amy thought, but he's good to look at and much, much stronger.Especially now, when Robert was giving that phoney laugh at the mention of the police. Remembering how contemptuously he had always spoken of her drama lessons, Amy reflected as so often how much he could have learnt from just one of them. He really was a lousy actor.Tolice? I don't think so,' he said. 'Anyway, who the hell are you?'He strode into the circle of chairs round the fireplace, turned his back on the empty grate, and belligerently straddled the hearthrug facing the couch. With his hands half-clenched at his side he loomed over the seated Paul as if he might any minute pull him up and knock him down.'What makes you think,' he demanded, 'that you can come into my house and threaten my . . . my wife like this?''I'm one of the Clarks,' Paul responded, coolly stating his interest.Robert's mouth set in a mulish line. 'I don't know what you're talking about.''Oh, come on .
Being Yours BOOK 4
'This afternoon?' In his relief he slumped back like an unstrung puppet. 'I was in a meeting all afternoon. Two till five.''Who else was at it?' Amy asked.'Julius Drew.' Robert sat up straight again, and brought out the name of Lang and Drews' chairman with a certain grandeur. 'And his son Tommy. And some of the other branch managers.''Phew! Thank goodness for that.' Sarah demonstrated her relief by fanning herself, a huge gesture that involved her entire forearm.She does everything on a big scale, Amy thought, and just as she feels it. No wonder she loves animals, she's as instinctive as they are. It came to her that Sarah's admiration for Robert's looks was another aspect of her feeling for animals. She appreciated him much as she would have appreciated the beauty of a horse, say, or a dog.'I never thought those stuffed shirts at Lang and Drews would be good for anything,' Sarah continued, 'but I see now they have their uses.'Amy wondered how even she dared say such things in
Being Yours BOOK 4
Suddenly she realized he was asking her a question. So he hadn't lost interest after all. He was asking where they went from here, which showed he thought they were going somewhere. I've got to get this right, she told herself desperately, and did her best to brush away the cobwebs of fatigue.'I . . . suppose I was sort of wondering that myself.''I could just take you to Stribble . . .''To Stribble?''It's where you live,' he reminded her with gentle sarcasm.'Yes.'Her new hope collapsed like a burst balloon. She had been wrong. He didn't want to talk about their future together, just about the simple, practical matter of where he should drive next. He wanted to know where he should take her before he put her down and left her, presumably forever.'That's right, please take me to Stribble,' she said, trying and failing to keep the leaden flatness from her voice. 'Thanks to you, I don't think I've anything more to fear from the Dawlishes.''Not from them, no.' He made no move to st
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