‘Um, can I get you anything?’ Kate asked nervously. God, thatsounded so trite – especially with Tina’s tea-and-sympathy jibe ringing in her ears.
‘No, thanks.’ Will shook his head. He seemed hardly to notice her presence now and she wondered if she should go. But she didn’t want to leave him in this state.
‘When’s the funeral?’ she asked softly.
Will stopped pacing and looked at her, stunned. ‘I don’t know,’ he said.
‘Haven’t you spoken to Antonia?’
‘I couldn’t – I couldn’t call her,’ he said abjectly. ‘I’m probably the last person she wants to hear from right now.’
Kate felt hopelessly inadequate in the face of his despair.
‘She may not even want me at the funeral,’ he continued.
‘Of course she’ll want you there.’
‘I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.’ Will resumed pacing.
‘Have you spoken to Mum?’
‘I haven’t spoken to anyone except Tina. And look how that worked out,’ he said, gesturing at the smashed vase.
Suddenly all the fight seemed to go out of him and he sank down onto the bed. ‘I shouldn’t have taken it out on Tina,’ he said dully, rubbing his forehead. ‘She only said what everyone must be thinking.’
‘No,’ Kate whispered emphatically. ‘We don’t all think that.’ Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t bear to see him so distraught.
Will saw the tears glinting in Kate’s eyes, and something in him snapped. Until now anger had kept him going – anger with the journalists, anger with Tina, anger with himself – even anger with his father for pulling the rug out from under him one last time. But in the face of Kate’s sympathy, he broke down.
‘I thought…’ he drew a ragged breath. ‘…I thought there wastime! I thought I had time to be pissed off with him. It wasn’t meant to be for ever,’ he cried.
‘I know, I know,’ Kate soothed, forgetting about herself in her concern for Will. She rushed over to sit beside him on the bed and put an arm around his shaking shoulders.
‘And now it’s too late,’ he sobbed brokenly. ‘He’s dead and he never knew—’ He wiped away tears roughly with the back of his hand. ‘He died thinking I hated him,’ he said bleakly.
‘Oh God, don’t.’ Kate pulled him closer. ‘He didn’t think you hated him,’ she said, holding him tight as he turned into her arms. He was crying in earnest now, great shuddering sobs, and she felt the wet of his tears as he buried his head in her neck.
‘How could I have been so stupid?’ he railed. ‘All those times I refused to talk to him and wouldn’t see him. Now I’d give anything if I could just see him one more time.’
‘I know.’ Kate stroked his hair as he clung to her. His hot breath on her neck sent little ripples of pleasure through her, which was inappropriate, to say the least. She was supposed to be comforting Will, not taking advantage of the situation to get a pervy thrill.
‘I’m sure he knew you loved him,’ she said.
‘How could he?’ he said, lifting his head to look at her, blinking away tears from his eyes.
Kate’s eyes welled. ‘Mum always knew you loved him, didn’t she?’ she reasoned. ‘EvenIknew that. He was yourfather, Will. If we knew, he must have known.’
‘Do you really think so?’ he asked hopefully, like a child seeking reassurance.
‘Absolutely.’ Kate nodded. ‘Besides,’ she added, smiling wryly as a thought occurred to her, ‘I’m sure Mum will have told him.’
Will’s expression brightened. ‘She would, wouldn’t she?’ He sniffed.
‘Only every time she spoke to him, I imagine.’ She was glad she’d somehow hit on the right thing to say. She brushed his hairoff his forehead and wiped away a stray tear that rolled down his cheek.
Will mirrored the action, tracing a tear down her cheek with his thumb, his eyes following its course until it reached her mouth. She tasted the salt before Will brushed it away. His gaze lingered on her lips, his thumb tracing their outline. Kate tried not to squirm with pleasure.
Suddenly their eyes met. Kate knew he was going to kiss her, and then his hands pushed into her hair pulling her face towards his, and she felt his lips on hers, tasting the salt of their mingled tears as he kissed her, tentatively at first, then more urgently. His hand stroked the side of her face coaxingly, urging her lips to stay locked to his. Kate didn’t need any coaxing. She kissed him back enthusiastically, her fingers stroking the short hair at the nape of his neck.
