How quickly he leapt to the conclusion that he was being pushed to one side, once again.
I took his hand and wiggled my fingers into the fist that he had clenched.
‘Not too busy for us,’ I reassured him. ‘I’m not making any decisions, anyway, but it wouldn’t mean we couldn’t be together. There would be plenty of other options besides living in twenty-four hours a day with families. It’s a thought.’
He nodded, then lifted my hand and kissed it.
‘Of course, sorry, I’m being selfish. Now, this peach satin sounds like it will need some rapid removal after the wedding; perhaps I’d better get in some practice now…’
He kissed me properly, then, and we went upstairs to his room through the silent house, all worries for the future forgotten, for now, for the pleasures of the present.
TWENTY
After the various upsets, the next few days at Lyonscroft were idyllic. Nick and I spent every night together and got into the habit of waking early so that we could enjoy a coffee before the day started. I began to feel closer to him as we shared details of our pasts and hopes for the future. Astrid seemed not only to have thrown off the broken engagement with Philip, but to be happier than ever. As a ‘thank you’ to me for returning all the presents she had bought him – a job which had been time-consuming, but not difficult – she invited me to go with her to see a matinée production of ‘The Nutcracker’ ballet in Yeovil. It was a glorious production, and afterwards we went for an early supper at a nineteenth century pub nearby, which had a distinctly twenty-first century menu. We both decided on Dover sole, followed by an orange-infused Christmas pudding with brandy ice cream, and found plenty to chat about as we ate.
‘I’m so glad you came to Lyonscroft,’ said Astrid, as the coffee arrived. ‘You’re wonderful with Marilise and we’re all so happy for you and Nick. Oops, sorry,’ she added. ‘I know it’s sort of a secret, but it’s not really – you don’t have to keep being discreet.’
‘I think I’d probably rather, for now,’ I said. ‘It’s a slightly odd situation, living in the same house and me working there. Thank you for being pleased, though.’
‘We are,’ she said, adding sugar to her coffee. ‘Nick was such a troubled little boy. Christoph – his father, that is – wasn’t a kind man. I’m sure you know.’ I nodded. ‘He never hid the fact that his only interest in Nick was as his heir, and he packed him off to boarding school when he was tiny. I begged him to let Nick live at home, and go to school nearby, like Victoria, but he wouldn’t allow it. He – he…’ She took a sip of coffee. She was clearly in the mood to unburden herself. ‘He had a vasectomy so that I wouldn’t have a baby. He didn’t tell me for ages, until I kept pushing for both of us to go and see doctors, then he told me.’
‘That’s terrible,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Thank you. No wonder the minute he died I rushed off and got pregnant with India.’ She smiled. ‘I did love her father, but it was a crazy time and I’m not sure he ever knew how I felt. Marilise was amazing when she found out about the baby. Couldn’t have given two hoots about the circumstances, her son’s recent widow getting knocked up by an itinerant photographer; she was glad to see me happy, finally. How she managed to have a son like Christoph I don’t know. It was too late, by then, to do much for Nick – he was finishing school. I tried to make a welcoming home for him at Lyonscroft, but he’s always been a nomad.’
I was seized with a sudden desire to ask about him, however painful the answer might be.
‘Do you think he always will be? Am I wasting my time?’
Astrid gave me a gentle smile.
‘I don’t know, Laura. All I can say is that I’ve never known him content with someone the way he is with you. But – well – Istill wouldn’t be surprised if he goes overseas again. Would you want to go with him, if he did?’
I sighed.
‘We’ve only been together such a short time, too short a time to make decisions like that. My life is here – my work, my family. I could leave, of course I could, and maybe it would be good, for a while at least. But I don’t want to throw everything up in the air for someone who ultimately doesn’t want to settle down. That’s not for me, and I wouldn’t force it on Nick – he’d only be unhappy if wandering the world and being free is the most important thing to him.’
‘It’s not easy, is it?’ said Astrid sympathetically. ‘And I’m in a poor position to give advice. All I can say is that I have finally learnt that you are a million times better off single than with the wrong man.’
If only Nick didn’t feel so right, that would be easier to take on board.
On Wednesday, Marilise and I were having our usual daily swim. She was sitting under the fountain while I floated, staring up at the ceiling, when I sensed, rather than saw, people coming into the room. I tipped myself upright lazily, expecting to see one of the family, but instead there was a tall young man, with an improbably sculpted hairstyle, wearing a sharp suit and very shiny shoes. He tapped away at a tablet, then looked up.
‘Mind if I take a photo?’ he asked, lifting the tablet as he did so.
‘Well, yes, I do,’ I said. ‘Sorry, who are you?’
‘It’s all right, it’s just for reference, it won’t be the one that goes in the brochure.’
He lifted the tablet again and I saw Marilise looking worried.
‘Please don’t take any photos with us in them,’ I said, standing up and looking as ferocious as I could in my polka dot swimming costume. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m from Lichfield and Baron,’ he replied.
The estate agents?
Before I had a chance to speak, the door was pushed open, and Nick came in. When he saw me and Marilise, he looked very awkward.
