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“You fascinate me,” he says.
My blush deepens as Alan and Vicky exchange a glance. “Young love,” Vicky says, sighing as she turns her attention to her menu.
I glance at Titus. He doesn’t look upset at Vicky’s comment, and he winks at me before lowering his gaze to the menu.
I look at mine, although it’s tough to concentrate on the words. Titus and I are supposed to be faking love this weekend. How did it turn into the real thing?
*
It turns out to be a lovely evening. The four of us get on really well, and there’s no shortage of conversation as the meal progresses. We spend a long while talking about New Zealand. Alan has only been back once, many years ago, to show Vicky the place of his birth, and we exchange memories and discuss how much it’s changed. They then talk about the UK and different places they’ve visited, insisting that at some point we should do a tour of the country to see all the amazing historical sites.
I keep waiting for them to push the subject of us moving to England, or to try to influence Titus in some way, but they don’t, and for that I’m grateful. I wonder whether they’re aware of how much they’re selling the place without that added pressure.
Then I realize that of course they’re aware. They’ve presented the very best face of the country—the gorgeous countryside, the history, and luckily the best weather. Like all countries, England has many faults, but its landscape and historical sites aren’t two of them.
When we’ve finished our meal, we linger over coffee, and then eventually Alan drives us back to Hawkerland Manor.
“Such a shame the weekend’s almost over,” I say sadly. “I’ve had such a great time.”
“It would be wonderful if you lived here,” Vicky says, looking over her shoulder from the front seat. Alan nudges her, though, and she bites her lip and turns her gaze out of the window.
In the back seat, Titus glances at me, so he obviously spotted it. He must know that, to a certain extent, they’re trying to influence us. I think he’s just relieved it hasn’t been too overt.
“What time are we off tomorrow?” he asks Alan.
“I’ll pick you up at eight a.m. We’ll do a tour of the plant, meet a few of the team, and then in the afternoon it’s the board meeting.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry I can’t take you out tomorrow,” Vicky says to me. “I’m meeting friends in London.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I thought I might have a swim in the pool, and a walk around the grounds.”
Alan pulls up outside, and we say goodbye and go into the cottage.
“That was an amazing meal,” I say, taking off my sandals and going through to the kitchen, the tiled floor cool on my feet.
“Yeah, I think they enjoyed themselves.” Titus follows me out and pulls me into his arms. “Thank you for coming with me.”
“It’s my pleasure. I’ve had such a great time.” I kiss him. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
“A bit.”
“Will the board members grill you about your work?”
“Almost certainly. I don’t mind that. The research is sound. I suppose I’m more nervous that our time with Alan is coming to an end, and he’s going to want an answer.”
“Can you say you’ll think about it, then tell him via email?”
“I could, but I think that’s the coward’s way out. I’ll play it by ear, but I’m planning to tell him tomorrow.”
I rest my cheek on his chest, suddenly emotional. Once he’s admitted to Alan that he’s not staying, it’ll put the onus of our relationship—such as it is—on me. He said there’s a conversation coming between the two of us, maybe on the plane, but I can only think that he means he’s going to ask me to move back to New Zealand.
He wraps his arms around me, and we stand there like that for a while.
I can’t bear the thought of not seeing him again. But what’s the option? I give up my life here? But even if that’s what he’s hoping for—and there’s no guarantee he’s interested in anything long term—what would happen if it didn’t work out between us?
He presses his lips to my hair, and I feel him give a long sigh. If there was an easy option, maybe he would like to continue to see me. But there’s not. And I think maybe he feels as sad about that as I do.
