Page 74 of Just for the Season

Of course I do. He’s kind. He’s funny. We gel. Like, we can talk for hours. He’s very interesting. And he’s also very interested, which is lovely and flattering. Also, he is so sexy. Just gorgeous.

Something niggles at me and I rewind. Interesting. He’s interesting. I’m sure he isn’t a spy, but what is he?

‘What’s your secret?’ I ask, as he kisses me again.

‘Frankie! Did you only sleep with me to find that out?’ He keeps on kissing me and I move against him and he groans.

‘Of course,’ I say. I turn in his arms to face him. ‘The government sent me.’

‘Ha,’ he says. ‘Wasabi.’

‘What?’ I sit bolt upright. ‘Are you a spy? Is that a code word?’

Marcus laughs and puts his hands behind his head to prop himself up a little.

‘I grow wasabi,’ he says.

‘So… not a spy, just the holder of a very mundane secret?’ I clarify. ‘Or do MI5 use sentences as passwords?’

‘Wasabi is one of the most expensive crops in the world. And only a very small number of commercial farmers in Europe grow it. It has to be a heavily guarded secret to prevent theft, and I have to have a lot of security.’ He smiles at me and I lie back down and snuggle against him. ‘Genuinely, it’s quite an interesting market. I enjoy it. Sorry I’m not a spy, though.’

‘Yeah, being a spy probably isn’t as cool as it sounds.’

‘Probably a lot of deskwork nowadays,’ Marcus agrees.

‘Yeah.’

‘So, just to be clear, you are hugely honoured that I’ve told you my boring secret.’ He hugs me closer again and then kisses me.

We kiss for a while, naturally, until Marcus suddenly says, ‘Bugger. I have to go. Got to take Sam to a football match. I got distracted.’ He kisses me on the forehead, before hopping out of bed and walking round the room looking for his clothes. ‘I’ll shower when I get home. Clean clothes.’ He pauses for a moment, mid doing his trousers up, and says, ‘What was your career secret?’

I do in all fairness have to tell him now. And, actually, I’m very happy to. I feel completely safe with Marcus, like he’ll never laugh at me or disrespect me in any way.

‘I’m just completing a novel,’ I tell him. ‘As in I’ve written it. No-one in the entire world has read it except me. I’m thinking about sending it to agents and publishers. But, obviously, letting anyone else see it feels like a huge step.’

‘Wow. What genre?’

‘Steamy romance.’

‘Wow,’ he repeats. ‘That’s a lot more interesting than wasabi. I feel very honoured that you’ve told me.’ He looks as if he’s going to continue speaking, hesitates, and then just puts his jacket on. I’m pretty sure he was going to ask if he could read it. I don’t know what the answer would be. Definitely maybe. I wonder whether the fact that we’ve now had sex would make it more or less embarrassing for him to read the steamy parts.

‘Would you like to look round my wasabi fields?’ he asks as he puts his shoes on.

‘Yes please.’ I don’t mention the possibility (or not) of him reading the book.

‘Then I will text you to arrange a date.’ He walks over to the bed and kisses the top of my head, very gently. ‘I would like… yeah, we should maybe… Yeah, so let’s make the wasabi viewing a date.’

‘I’d like that.’

I lie in bed smiling for a long time after he’s gone.

* * *

I nod off a bit too, and it’s after midday when I remember it’s Sunday and I work Sundays but I’ve just spent the entire morning in bed. I am probably the worst employee in the world.

I shower at the speed of light and rush downstairs, only to see Ruby with Simon.

‘Afternoon,’ Simon says. ‘Not surprised you had a big lie-in; that was a great party and you did a lot of work preparing for it.’