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‘When will you be back? In Edbury, I mean.’
Nik began reattaching his watch.
‘I was thinking I could fly you up to London next weekend, if you could arrange someone to look after your daughter.’
Fly her up to London? She’d been thinking more along the lines of, When are you coming back to Edbury to see your grandfather? Maybe we could have dinner… Although given they’d already plunged in at the deep end dinner was always going to end here. So maybe London was the right option.
Only it sounded so illicit. And at the same time he was making plans for them, they didn’t involve him stepping into her world, and she was a little taken aback by the impression he saw her daughter as an impediment.
‘Fleur,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘Her name is Fleur.’
He smiled but he didn’t say her name and a little part of Sybella curled at the edges like blight on a rose leaf.
‘I guess I could come up to London. The thing is, I’m really only comfortable with Fleur staying with her aunty Meg or her grandparents, and I can’t be away from her for more than a night. She’s still so little…’
Sybella trailed off. He was getting out his phone. She guessed he wasn’t really that interested in the logistics. It was her domestic life—not his.
He finished buttoning his shirt.
‘Where’s your phone?’
But he’d already spotted the chair in the corner where her soft patchwork carryall was slumped. Her phone lay on top of it.
She climbed out of bed, wrapping herself in the pale gold blanket, and drew close behind him to see what he was doing, although she had a pretty good idea and it made her warm inside.
‘I’m programming in my numbers.’
His head was bent as she peered around him to watch what he was doing, a little confused about the entire procedure. It wasn’t as if she had much experience with the whole casual dating thing. She’d only ever dated Simon.
‘This way you’ll be able to contact me if there’s a problem.’
She was about to ask, But what if there’s not a problem? when she heard it. Like a bat, she was on Fleur signal. It was a single muffled word. Then nothing for the count of one, two, three, four, five, six… And then the rattle of keys and her front door opening.
Battle stations.
She dived for her clothes on the floor, pulling up tracksuit pants and dragging a fluffy old jumper down over her head, flashing her boobs at him.
‘They’re back. You have to go,’ she babbled, hunting around for his shoes. ‘Listen, I’ll head them off and get them into the kitchen and you come down and let yourself out.’
She shoved his shoes against his chest. ‘Put these on and just stay there.’
Nik was caught by an unexpected wave of tenderness.
‘Sybella.’ He caught her arm and she gazed up at him with equal measures of annoyance and longing that had him wanting to prolong the moment. ‘You are an incredible woman and you shouldn’t doubt how sexy you are, or how lucky I feel after last night.’
She looked utterly transfixed, and in that moment he cursed her very young, very stupid dead husband.
Then a voice called out, ‘Mummy!’
Sybella said something under her breath and he let her go.
As she came noisily down the stairs Sybella was convinced she had a scarlet ‘A’ painted on her forehead.
Meg was removing Fleur’s coat and scarf. She looked up with a smile.
‘I thought I’d bring her home and save you the drive, Syb. I have to be in Middenwold this morning anyway. Mum’s having a tooth drilled and she says she can’t drive herself home.’
‘Mummy!’ Fleur ran to hug her and be lifted. Sybella gave a little grunt. Her daughter was getting heavier by the day.
After some kisses Fleur was struggling to be put down. ‘I want to show Aunty Meg my new shoes,’ she complained, but Sybella had no intention of letting Fleur go up until the coast was clear.
‘How about we go and put the kettle on first and make some porridge?’ She charged down the hall, making as much noise as possible. She dived for the radio and turned it up. A cheerful pop song filled the room with chants about love not hurting any more. Fleur began to bop up and down and Meg to dance with her.
