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‘No need. I’m ready for bed anyway. It’s been a long day.’
‘Please don’t go on my behalf,’ Ron said.
She could tell he felt awkward, and she suddenly had the urge to make him feel more comfortable, so she stayed where she was.
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ she said, gazing skywards again, drinking in the twinkling shimmering lights of distant and unimaginable suns.
Ron perched awkwardly on the chair Kate had recently vacated. ‘It certainly is. I love looking up at the stars. One of the best places to stargaze is in the Brecon Beacons. There’s hardly any light pollution. I used to spend hours watching them.’
‘Is that before you went to live with Beverley?’ She wanted to ask him if he’d watched the stars because he hadn’t had a roof over his head, so hadn’t had much choice, but she didn’t want to be rude.
‘Way before. I did my SAS training there.’
‘Wow! You were in the SAS?’
He chuckled softly. ‘No, I didn’t get in. Man, it was tough. I ended up working with dogs instead.’ Even in the darkness, she could see a momentary flicker of pain flit across his face and she wondered what caused it.
‘My mum said you are good with dogs.’ Her mum had said a lot of other things, too, which hadn’t been half as complimentary. ‘You trained Pepe. I heard he was a bit of a rascal.’
Ron’s chuckle was louder this time. ‘He still can be when he’s in the mood.’
‘My daughter has taken quite a shine to him.’
‘I think he’s taken a shine to her, too.’
Pepe had been glued to Izzie’s side all through dinner, but Annabelle suspected it was more to do with her daughter slipping the dog pieces of breadstick when she’d thought her mother wasn’t looking. Annabelle dreaded the inevitable question. Izzie hadn’t yet asked for a dog, but it was only a matter of time and the answer would have to be no. Yet one more way she could disappoint her children.
Annabelle and Ron sat in silence for a while, but it wasn’t an awkward one. There was a stillness about him that made her feel comfortable in his presence. She didn’t feel the need to fill the empty air with chat, so she let the peace of the night wash over her, and the pair of them continued to gaze upwards.
Gradually though, Annabelle’s attention was drawn to more earthly things, and her eyes gravitated towards Ron. Once again, she marvelled that the guy who Aunt Beverley had taken in wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Her initial impression that he was a good-looking man hadn’t changed during dinner, and whenever she looked at him she felt a distinct pull of attraction, which she found disturbing.
She hadn’t been remotely interested in anyone since Troy had walked out on her and the children and, considering the situation she was in, now wasn’t an ideal time for it. Maybe when she’d sorted herself out and the kids were settled, she could think about love again –ifthe right man came along.
If Ron was conscious of her scrutiny, he didn’t show it, and she looked away, feeling awkward.
Abruptly she said, ‘Sorry, I’m being rude. Would you like some wine? There’s enough left in the bottle for another glass.’ She could easily fetch a clean one from the kitchen.
‘Thanks, but no. I don’t drink.’
‘Ah, I see.’ Annabelle winced. How insensitive of her.
But once again, Ron blew her preconceptions out of the water when he said, ‘I haven’t drunk alcohol since I was in my teens. Let’s just say I got into a bit of bother and ended up in hospital being treated for alcohol poisoning. I vowed never to touch a drop again, and I haven’t. Caffeine is my go-to drug.’
‘I see,’ she repeated, feeling foolish. He must have guessed the direction her thoughts had taken, and her assumption that because he’d been homeless he must have had a drink problem.
‘I used to get the mick taken out of me something rotten,’ he continued. ‘My army mates thought I was a right wuss.’
‘I don’t think you’re a wuss.’ She put her nearly empty glass down, unable to work out whether it was a show of solidarity on her part, or fear that she was on the verge of being tipsy. Either way, she didn’t feel like drinking anymore.
‘Don’t let me stop you,’ he said, looking pointedly at the remains of her wine.
‘I’ve had enough,’ she replied, realising it was true. What she could really do with was a strong cup of coffee.
‘Can I make you a coffee?’ he asked, interrupting her thoughts.
She smiled. ‘You read my mind.’
‘Fancy a plate of cheese and biscuits to go with it?’
