I looked at him in alarm but there was a mischievous lightin his eyes as if he was being playful – pranking me, almost, and daring me torespond. So, feeling carefree after all the wine I’d drunk, I laughed andkissed him right back. It was sort of an experiment, to see how it felt, andactually, it was really nice.
There’s that word again. Nice.
Okay, the kiss was... rather lovely,actually. (I’d been too drunk to remember what it was like the only other time ithad happened.)
From the way Adam responded, I gathered he enjoyed it, too.Then we broke apart and he made a joke about me leading him on with my beefwellington, and I laughed and saidheshould be so lucky.
I went to get forks for the cheesecake and things snappedright back to normal.
But later, in bed, I thought about that kiss.
There was a hint of promise there, for sure. Although whenwe broke apart there was no feeling on my part that we should try it again,immediately. It just felt... nice – andcomforting–which was a lovely feeling in itself.
My thoughts drift inevitably to Doug.
His kiss was all raw, head-spinning, urgent passion, andwhile it was happening I seemed to lose all sense of time and space.
I turn over grumpily.
I donotwant to think aboutthatkiss. I needto concentrate on the future and work out whether I want Adam to remain afriend – or something more. He makes me laugh and he really cares about me. I’dbe a fool not to explore where it might lead.
What’s so great about a passionate kiss anyway? Passionfades eventually.
A strong affection for each other and a firm friendship issurely a much more promising basis for a lasting relationship.
Doug is most definitely history...
*****
I’m coming out of the supermarket a few days later, loadedwith bags, when I spot a familiar Peugeot parked nearby.
My heart starts to pound.Was Doug in the shop? I didn’tsee him. Too busy checking the aisles for April!
I turn round, and just then I see him emerge into the carpark. He lifts his hand to say hi, but I really can’t face him. I’d have todemand that he answer my questions. Like why did he tell me he worked at thecar showroom when he clearly doesn’t? Who was the Jag for, if it wasn’t for aclient? But mainly, who is he really? Doug or Charles?
I really don’t have the energy today for a confrontation.And what if he takes advantage of my trusting nature and manages to explain themysteries away and get me believing in him again? It’s happened before, let’sface it. I broke up with Ryan a couple of times when we were together but eachtime, he managed to worm his way back into my affections.
My heart is pounding, though, as I hurry over to the car,throw the bags onto the passenger seat and zoom away. Seeing Doug again hasreally thrown me. I’ve been trying not to think about our lovely time inEdinburgh but now it’s all flooding back... how amazing itfelt, being with him... how I even thought he might turn outto be The One.
Tears are blinding me now, so I pull into a tree-linedlay-by and switch off the engine to take a breath. I wish I could forget aboutDoug, but it seems I can’t. I still want to get to the bottom of the mysteriesand I long to know if our connection was genuine on his side. If he doesn’twork at the car showroom, whatdoeshe do with his days? Something thatallows him to do supermarket shopping at ten on a weekday morning, obviously.
At that moment, the Peugeot zooms past. He probably didn’tsee me, partly hidden by a tree.
I start the car, nip out of the lay-by, and follow him.
He’s not heading home because that’s in the other direction.So where is he going? I guess I’m about to find out...
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Racing along to catch the Peugeot up, I’m not feelingentirely comfortable about spying on Doug – mainly because I’m not sure I’mready for the truth.
What if I’m about to discover he has a wife and four kids heforgot to mention?
The journey is taking me into the heart of the countryside,along narrow roads and a few scary hairpin bends. (They wouldn’t be scary if Ididn’t have the pressure of keeping Doug in my sights so that I don’t lose him,while making sure he doesn’t spot me tailing him.)
Where the hell is he going? I’m sweating here!
At last, my patience is rewarded. I round a bend just intime to see him turning into a driveway. But not any old driveway. This one hastwo large stone lions guarding the entrance.
