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She turned and was out of the gate before another word could be spoken, her head high and her back straight, although the hot tears coursing down her face made the narrow lane in front of her a green haze. He had looked at her as though he hated her then, really hated her. But that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? she asked herself bitterly as she walked swiftly away. No, a small still voice deep in her head answered quickly and painfully. She didn’t want that at all.
‘Stay away from me, Blade.’ She spoke out loud into the still warm air as she walked quickly down the lane shaded by huge old trees on either side. ‘I can take the pain and the loneliness and everything else if you’ll just stay away.’ But he couldn’t hear her in the final analysis and she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to.
John was waiting in his usual spot parked to one side of the lane in a gated pull-in that overlooked roaming fields full of grazing sheep. ‘Amy?’ His smile had faded immediately he had seen her face. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s Blade.’ She took the handkerchief he offered as she sank down into the worn seat next to his and sniffed dismally. ‘He’s helping Mrs Cox with the garden.’
‘He’s doing what?’ John stared at her in blank amazement. ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘Neither did I at first,’ she said quietly. ‘And he’s so hostile—’
‘He’s hurt you?’ John glared back down the lane angrily.
‘No, nothing like that.’ She took another deep breath and managed a wan smile. ‘I’m just being silly. He’ll give up and leave eventually, he’ll have to. I’ll just have to manage till then.’
‘This is crazy.’ John slipped his arm round her shoulders and gave her a comforting hug. ‘Do you want me to have a word with him?’
‘No.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘That would be the worst thing you could do. He’s got this idea that we’re—you know.’ She paused in embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry, John.’
‘Don’t be.’ He smiled down at her, his mild blue eyes warm. ‘It’s an enormous compliment to me. You’ve never thought about me like that, have you?’
‘Of course not.’ She smiled again. ‘We’re friends, aren’t we?’
He was very still for a moment before sighing gently as he moved her round to face him. ‘Friends?’ He nodded slowly. ‘That definitely, but I would like there to be more. You must know how I feel about you, Amy? How I’ve always felt? You were so young when we first met, I didn’t like to push things and of course I was tied up with Carol then, so the whole thing was impossible. But when I got the wedding invitation …’ For a moment the face looking at her was quite unlike John’s. The placid easy expression had gone and in its place she read—something she didn’t want to read.
‘John, please—’
‘No, listen to me, Amy.’ He was still holding her tight and she felt unable to move away. ‘I shall regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t tell you how I feel. When you came here, to me, I couldn’t believe it at first. It was a dream come true. Oh, I know you look on me as a friend.’ He shook her very gently as she opened her mouth to speak. ‘You’ve never given me any reason to hope for more, but now?’ He moved fractionally closer. ‘You’ve left Blade, Amy, for whatever reason, but the fact remains that you’ve left him. Do you think you could learn to love me, learn to care?’ As he moved to take her mouth she turned her head abruptly and his lips merely brushed her cheek, but in the same instant she heard, rather than saw, Blade’s car flash past them on the dusty road.
‘John …’ She took a deep breath as she struggled away and he let her go easily, looking out of the window at the cloud of dust left by Blade’s powerful car, as his brow wrinkled in consternation.
‘Was that …?’ he asked slowly.
She nodded miserably. ‘He was going to get some grass seed,’ she said weakly. ‘For the garden,’ she added unnecessarily. Her mind buzzed frantically, less with the content of John’s declaration than the fact that Blade might have seen them as he shot by and assume—what would he assume? The worst, no doubt.
‘Well, I’m sorry, but it doesn’t alter anything—’
She cut off John’s voice with a little shake of her head, her eyes pleading for his understanding as she looked into his round familiar face. ‘John, I’m sorry …’ She paused, unsure of how much to say. She hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about the illness but perhaps—
