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“Will do.” I go to pull away, but he hangs onto me for a few seconds longer before he finally releases me. To my surprise he actually looks a little choked up at having to say goodbye, and that makes my throat tighten.
We’ve already put our bags in the car, and we lock up the cottage and give them the keys, then wave goodbye, get in the Range Rover, and head out of Hawkerland Manor toward Exeter.
I glance at the country house in the rearview mirror as I drive, feeling a pang of wistfulness at the thought that I might not see it or Alan again.
“You okay?” Heidi says softly.
I clear my throat. “Yeah. Sad to go, in a way.”
“I know what you mean.” She sighs. “All systems go for New Zealand now, right?”
“Yep. What time do you want to leave tomorrow?”
“Shall we leave at midday?”
“Sounds great.”
I hold out a hand, and she slips hers into it.
We don’t say much more on the journey back.
*
The rest of the day passes quickly. Heidi goes out to visit her grandparents, then spends the rest of the day sorting out her clothes, washing, and packing. I do some laundry, pack my case, and then work quietly, catching up on emails and then reading Saxon’s new report on progress with Stork at Wellington Hospital, making some notes.
In the evening, Heidi makes us a pizza, and we sit on the sofa and eat it while we watch another movie. When we finally go to bed, she leads me into her room without asking, the quirky little room with its blackened oak beams, the coffin hatch in the floor, and the tiny window overlooking the street, and she strips off her short T-shirt dress, puts her arms around me, and presses her soft body against mine as she lifts up to kiss me.
We make love slowly, and as I kiss her and slide inside her, looking down at her flushed cheeks and eyes filled with emotion, I can’t help but wonder why I’m doing this to myself. I should have stopped this as soon as I knew she liked me, and I realized I felt the same way. Instead, I told her I’m crazy about her, even admitted that I love her after she declared the same in a text. And I still don’t know how it can possibly work out.
All I do know is that I can’t walk away from her. And as I come inside her, wrapped in her velvet warmth, I know I’m in big trouble.
*
The next day, we finish off our packing, then head out around midday. Heidi locks up her cottage, and we pack up the car and head east, taking the long A303 road. She’s quiet, which doesn’t surprise me as I know she’s nervous about seeing her father again. I don’t force her to talk, but put some music on instead. As I suspected, it’s impossible for her not to sing along to the songs she knows, and I soon have her smiling and laughing as we sing together.
It’s with some surprise that, halfway through our journey, I suddenly see a very familiar site on the horizon in front of us.
“Stonehenge?” My jaw drops.
She smiles. “I wondered if you realized we’d be passing.”
“I didn’t. Holy shit.” Unfortunately we haven’t left ourselves enough time to look around, but I slow as we pass, captivated by the sight of the magnificent stones in their horseshoe shape, stark against the countryside to our left.
“And look at all the Bronze-Age barrows,” Heidi says, pointing to the mounds visible on the skyline. “It’s such a beautiful, ancient landscape.”
Her face is filled with wonder, and I find myself staring at her rather than the view before I finally tear my gaze back to the road.
The conversation we need to have is looming, and I know what I need to say, but she’s not making it easy.
*
The next few hours, as always, are long and drawn out, as we hand over the car, find our way to the right terminal, check in and get rid of our cases, then make our way with our carry-on luggage to the flight lounge. We buy a sandwich and a coffee, head to the gate, hang around until it’s time to board, and then eventually the call comes through for first-class passengers to make their way on.
I’ve been looking forward to this bit, and sure enough, Heidi’s face is a picture as we’re shown to our first-class double suite. Consisting of two suites with the central partition lowered, the two single beds on either side of the partition have been converted into a double. The crisp white sheets have been sprinkled with red rose petals, and there’s a tray bearing a bottle of champagne in a cooler and a selection of handmade chocolates I know she’ll love. Either side of the bed is a cream leather recliner with a table for eating or working, and both face large-screen TVs. Each side also has a small private bathroom with a shower.
“Oh. My. God,” she says once the flight attendant has left the room. “Titus!”
I laugh. “What?”
