I shook my head. ‘They’re just shoes.’
‘They’re not though, are they? As obtuse as I’ve apparently been, even I can see that now.’
‘It’s nothing, Jesse. Honestly.’
He didn’t push and for that I was grateful. ‘You know where everything is and you’re welcome to go up if you want. I was going to make a hot chocolate. It might warm you up?’ His fingers wrapped briefly around mine. ‘You’re freezing and that’s my fault.’
My laugh was tired but genuine. ‘You’re not responsible for the weather, Jesse.’
‘No, but I’m responsible for keeping you out in it and making you angry enough to start climbing an eight-foot gate in five-inch heels!’
I looked up at him and from somewhere deep inside a bubble of exhausted, part-hysterical laughter rose up.
‘What the hell was I thinking?’
‘I’m not sure you were. From the look on your face, you were so mad with me, the most important thing was to get as far away as possible.’
‘True.’
‘Sorry. Again.’
I sighed. ‘Hot chocolate sounds great, if you don’t mind?’
‘Not at all.’
‘I think I’ll get ready for bed while you’re doing that?’
His smile was soft. ‘You look fit to drop. Go get into your jammies and I’ll see you in a minute.’
I turned and plodded, barefoot, up the pale-grey, carpeted stairs.
Ten minutes later, I’d scrubbed the make-up from my face, rubbed in some moisturiser, brushed my hair back into a plait and got into the pyjamas that Julie had kindly lent me. Soft brushed cotton in a cosy red check, they weren’t something I’d ordinarily have worn and definitely not bought. Not stylish enough, I’d have told myself. But I’d clearly been missing out. They were snuggly and warm and cute. Chic was overrated when it came to bedtime.
Wrapping the guest robe around me, I tied the waist, slid my feet into the guest-room slippers and headed downstairs.
‘Just in time,’ Jesse said as he lifted a tray with two drinks and a small plate of biscuits on it. ‘I was going to go and sit in the snug but you’re welcome to take yours upstairs if you’d prefer.’
‘No, I’ll come with you, if that’s OK?’
‘Of course it is.’ He indicated with a nod of his head. ‘After you.’
Having placed the tray down on the coffee table, Jesse stepped across the small room to the log burner and, a minute later, flames began licking around the prepped kindling and the log resting on top of it. He took a seat next to me on the chesterfield. Rich velvet in a hunter green with gold studding, it suited the room perfectly. Bookshelves lined one wall and heavy, padded silk curtains were drawn across the window. An Indian silk rug was laid over the carpet and under the coffee table, and the whole room was lit by one lamp, giving it an appropriately snug feel.
I took a sip of the salted caramel hot chocolate Jesse had prepared. Not too sweet, it was impossibly smooth and comforting. Exactly what I needed.
‘This room is gorgeous. I mean, your whole house is perfectly styled.’ I hesitated for a moment then spoke again. ‘Did you design it or did your wife? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.’
He sipped his own drink and rested it on his lap. ‘Neither. We didn’t live here when she was alive. I moved here a while after Alice died. I’d always liked the place but it was in a bit of a state so when it came up for sale I took it on. Having a project gave me something to get up for and I was struggling in the old house. Too many memories.’
‘I don’t pretend to understand but I can see how that could be. You’ve done a wonderful job and the styling is gorgeous.’
‘That’s down to the interiors specialist I used to work with. I gave her some thoughts of what I’d like and then let her get on with it. She’d done work on other projects I’d been involved with so I knew she was good.’
‘Used to work with?’
‘Yeah. Her and her husband have just moved to New Zealand, which is where he’s from originally.’
‘Oh! Yes, that would be quite the commute.’
