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Well, that was one way of doing it. His mother obviously approved, and Charlotte went pink with pleasure. He almost didn’t dare go any closer, in case she captured him in some kind of spell.
‘Well, thank you.’ She was holding both of Isaac’s hands, trying to keep them away from her dress. ‘I’ll just go and clean him up...’
‘That’s fine.’ Edward hoisted the boy upwards, tucking him under his arm, and Isaac squealed with delight. ‘We don’t want to get your mother all dirty, do we?’
Finally they were alone. Instructions had been given, telephone numbers written down, and Charlotte had elicited a promise from Isaac to be extra good for the whole of the evening. The taxi had arrived, and she had allowed Edward to help her into it.
‘This is nice.’
She seemed excited, even though she didn’t yet know where they were going. Edward wondered whether it would be appropriate to put his arm along the back of the seat, and decided that he should probably wait until the way home.
‘I didn’t want to worry about parking. Or having a glass of wine if I felt like it.’
She nodded and smiled at h
im. That warm, bubbly smile of hers which so lifted his spirits when he saw it at work. Here, combined with the fact that she smelled absolutely wonderful, and with her skin just inches away from his touch...Edward was lost
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE TAXI LET them off in Soho. Bubbling with life, on a warm summer’s evening, the atmosphere was going to Charlotte’s head. Edward took her hand, easing them through the crowded pavements.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Here.’ He stopped suddenly, then descended a set of steps which seemed to run down to a basement. Opening the door at the bottom, he gave his name to a woman, handed his jacket over, and they were waved through.
She already knew what this place was. Soft jazz was floating towards them, beckoning them into a small auditorium. They were shown to a table and the waiter gave them each a menu, and left.
The place wasn’t posh, or glitzy, nor was it sleazy. It was the kind of place that no one other than a real jazz enthusiast would know about, and its clientele didn’t come here to be seen, but to listen.
‘Is this okay?’ He leaned across the table, his mouth almost touching her cheek. ‘We can go somewhere else if you don’t like it.’
‘It’s wonderful. Can we stay?’
He nodded in satisfaction. ‘Of course. What would you like to drink?’
The long cushioned seats were comfortable, and the wine that the waiter brought to the table was excellent, but it was really all about the music. A three-piece band played smooth, moody melodies, which made everything seem so very easy. She slid along the seat, closer to Edward, so that they could exchange a few words without distracting anyone.
The band finished their set to enthusiastic applause and a great deal of crashing about as they left the small stage.
‘Would you like something to eat? We’ve got about half an hour before they bring the next band on.’
The waiters suddenly seemed to leap into action as they were beckoned by one table or another.
‘There’s going to be another one?’
‘More than one. Until about four in the morning, usually.’ Edward grinned at her.
‘And how many times have you stayed until then?’
‘Once or twice. I used to come here a lot, but not so much lately.’
‘Can’t do the late nights, eh?’
He shrugged. ‘Not really. But you can come in here, have a glass of wine, go home early and be tucked up in bed by ten. It’s more a state of mind.’
He did seem younger here. As if his quiet manner was more a result of relaxation than introspection. ‘Are we going to stay for the next set?’
He nodded. ‘As long as you like. The plan doesn’t go any further than this.’
