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I hold him to me, looking into his eyes. ‘Anayor pii.’ Resting my head on his chest, I say, ‘Come and have that milk now and then we can both go to bed. I’ve got to get up at seven o’clock.’
‘I am sorry to disturb your sleep.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ I chide. ‘I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to struggle with problems by yourself. If we’re going to make a life together, then we need to sort out our problems together.’
Taking his hand, I gently pull him inside and into the warmth. In the kitchen, I make him strip off his shuka and I rub him down with a warm towel. I trace the contours of his firm muscular body, marvelling at just how very beautiful it is. I plant kisses where I’ve dried and sigh with pleasure when I think that I could be doing this for the rest of my life. The reaction from Dominic’s body tells me that he’s enjoying it too.
Archie, at Dominic’s broad bare feet, complains jealously about his own lack of attention. When I’ve finished with Dominic, I towel my cat down too while he miaows pitifully.
We all go upstairs and I curl against Dominic’s body. ‘You’re cold,’ I whisper. ‘How can I warm you up?’
His face is soft in the darkness and he moves above me and we make love, long and languorously. Even though I should have one eye on the clock, I don’t, as I never ever want this to end.
Afterwards, I lie in his arms and feel that I am in heaven, truly in heaven. Whatever anyone else says about this man, I know that his love is steadfast, unwavering, that he would never do anything to hurt me and that I would not, for one moment, ever doubt him.
‘I love you,’ I murmur against his neck. ‘I love you so much.’
Dominic strokes my hair from my face. ‘I love you too,’ he says. ‘Whatever happens. I love you too.’
That’s the last thing I hear as I sink into deep contented sleep.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
LeAnn Rimes singing 'How Do I Live' wakes me up on the radio alarm. I stretch out my arm for Dominic, but my hand just finds more bed. Forcing my eyes open, I see that he’s gone. It must have been three in the morning or even later by the time we finally went to sleep and now I feel not unlike death warmed up. I lie on my back and stretch. My body shivers when I think of our lovemaking last night. In my mind, I can still feel Dominic inside me, his body pressed against mine and I want him all over again. I know that never in my life have I felt this satisfied, this loved as a woman, and I don’t care what anyone else says. If this is not real love, then I have no idea what is.
When the sad song finishes, I make myself sit up. No luxuriating in bed this morning for me. At nine on the dot, I have a cut and blow-dry to do and then a full appointment book all day – not a single gap, not even lunch.
Dominic, I expect, is out doing his rounds of the village, checking on his old ladies and that makes me smile to myself. Then I notice that Archie is still curled up at the bottom of the bed and I’m jolted wide awake in an instant. If the cat is still here but Dominic isn’t, then there’s something seriously amiss. My heart hits the bottom of my stomach and I know, instinctively, without a shadow of a doubt, that Dominic has gone.
Jumping out of bed, I pull on my dressing gown. My cat stirs reluctantly.
‘Where is he?’ I ask his favoured feline friend. ‘Do you know where he’s gone?’
But Archie looks as bemused as I do that our man is missing.
I fly downstairs and, pointlessly, check all the rooms. I know. I know in my heart that he’s no longer here. In the kitchen his shuka is gone and my broom handle isn’t in its usual place in the utility room. I should have picked up on it last night when he was talking about having to quit the village to live in exile if he was shamed. Oh, bloody hell. Stupid, stupid me. Why didn’t I understand what he was talking about?
Then I notice that next to my purse, which has been taken out of my handbag, there’s a note. All it says is, ‘Aanyor pii. Dominic.’
Oh, Christ. I hold on to the worksurface to stop me from collapsing to the floor.
Running outside in to the lane, I call out his name. ‘Dominic! Dominic!’ I chase up and down like a headless chicken, dressing gown flapping, but I can’t see him anywhere. How long has he been gone? I wonder. When did he leave? I heard nothing. My love was leaving me and I slept on, blissful in my dreams and heard nothing at all.
When I reach the post office, there’s half a dozen people collecting their morning paper as I barge in. ‘Has anyone seen Dominic?’
Much head shaking from the queue.
‘No,’ Mrs Appleby says from behind the counter. ‘Is everything all right?’
