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‘I thought maybe dinner and a film on Saturday evening? Or we could just go for a drink somewhere if you prefer?’ His voice gentled still further as he added, ‘No big deal, Kay, that’s what I’m saying. You said you’re not ready for a relationship; I think you need to be let out of the steel box you’ve put round yourself and start testing life again. So we start as friends with no strings attached and go nice and slow. Any time either of us wants out, that’s fine. Any time either of us wants to take it a step forward we discuss it. How’s that?’
Cold-blooded in the extreme. Kay stared blankly across the room. He was talking with about as much emotion as he would when suggesting a business deal. She didn’t know whether to be pleased by his reasonableness or offended by the lack of ardour.
‘Kay?’
His quiet voice reminded her she couldn’t hesitate any longer. She took a deep breath. She had to admit he couldn’t have been fairer and this way she had nothing to lose. ‘A meal and a film sounds great,’ she said carefully.
‘Good. I’ll pick you up at seven and book tickets for a late performance. Anything in particular you’d like to see?’
It dawned on Kay afresh just how much of a rut she was in when she realised she didn’t have a clue what films were out. She hadn’t been to the cinema since the twins were born. She’d hardly been anywhere since the twins were born! ‘You choose,’ she said hastily.
‘I’ll surprise you,’ he said softly.
Kay swallowed. ‘Fine.’
She was sure his voice was redolent with amusement when he made his goodbyes, but as her mother was positioned in front of her now she didn’t prolong the farewell.
‘You’re seeing him again.’ Leonora spoke as though Kay had won a gold medal at the Olympics.
‘Calm down, Mum. It’s strictly on a friends-only basis,’ Kay warned softly, vitally aware of her daughters’ little faces as they stared up at her.
Leonora smiled benignly. ‘Of course it is.’
Kay stifled the words hovering on her tongue, instead saying, ‘I’ll talk to you later, okay? Once we’ve eaten.’
‘As you like, dear.’ Leonora sailed off back into the kitchen, every inch of her still-slim body registering satisfaction.
Wonderful. Kay stared after her mother, frustration paramount. What was it about Mitchell Grey that could charm any female within a ten-mile radius? she asked herself irritably.
‘Was that the man who sent those?’
Emily had spoken, her dimpled hand pointing to the basket of flowers as she stared at her mother.
Kay nodded. ‘Yes, it was, sweet pea.’
‘I like him.’
‘So do I,’ Georgia agreed earnestly.
Kay plumped down on the sofa, her hand reaching for the sherry glass. Three against one wasn’t really fair, was it?
CHAPTER SIX
THE next few weeks were ones of change. Kay found herself seeing Mitchell every day; they ate lunch or dinner together, sometimes in one of the plush restaurants Mitchell frequented or at his home, they danced in nightclubs, visited the cinema and theatre, went bowling, ice-skating and even scoured one or two antique fairs and auctions. As he had promised they had fun—lots of fun. But it wasn’t really real, it wasn’t everyday life. Not her life, at least, Kay reflected.
She was standing in the kitchen on the Saturday morning before Christmas, up to her elbows in suds, idly watching the garden’s resident robin as he militantly sent off one or two marauding sparrows who had thought to plunder the bird table of pieces of bacon fat.
If she thought about it, they hadn’t had one no-holds-barred conversation since that first evening at his home. Oh, he had entertained her all right, and, yes, if she was totally honest, the more she saw him, the more she liked him, but… She frowned at the window. She didn’t know him at all. He was tough, formidably in control of himself and those around him, but she could never penetrate that invisible barrier even in the slightest. And the ironical thing, the really ridiculous thing was that he’d accused her the night before of the self-same thing.
‘What will it take before that barricade is smashed?’
She had glanced at him as he’d spoken, his voice soft and his eyes faintly amused as they’d driven home after a night at the theatre.
‘Sorry?’
‘You know what I mean, Kay.’
His tone had still been easy, even lazy, but perhaps—in hindsight—there had been something more, anger even, behind the indolent posture.
