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‘Oh, yes, you’re turned on, aren’t you, Shelley?’ he whispered with soft triumph. ‘Very turned on. Those eyes are so wide and dark now, like a cat’s. And see how your cheeks burn up. And look here.’ He let his gaze drift down to fix with interest on her breasts. ‘Tight little buds thrusting towards her lover’s eyes—’
‘But you’re not my lover, Drew!’ she gasped out, her voice a kind of choked denial. ‘And you never were!’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘I’m not. But there’s plenty of time to remedy that.’
‘Never, never, never!’ she chanted. ‘So do me a favour and get out!’
‘Sure?’
‘As sure as—’
‘Drew! Drew, are you still in there?’
Disorientated and still caught up in the hypnotic throb of desire, Shelley stared at him. ‘Who’s that?’ she whispered.
‘My sister,’ he said, with a grim smile. And, letting go of Shelley’s hand, he pulled open the front door and Shelley found herself face to face with Jennie Glover.
It had been three years since she had last seen Drew’s sister, when she had left Milmouth under such a cloud—and Shelley mentally geared herself up for her disapproval.
But, outwardly at least, Jennie appeared to be quite composed—there was none of her brother’s lip-curling condemnation. In fact, Drew’s sister had changed quite radically and Shelley kept her face completely straight, hoping that her surprise at the other woman’s appearance didn’t show.
Jennie had shared many of Drew’s physical characteristics—they had both been tall with athletic builds, and the shiny hair and clear skin which came from natural good health. But Jennie had changed.
She seemed smaller than Shelley remembered—though maybe that was because her shoulders were hunched up, like a person who constantly doubted herself. Her thick dark hair was unkempt and badly in need of styling, and her skin was sallow and dull. But it was her figure which startled Shelley most. She hadn’t just gained weight—she had gained it in the most unlikely of places. She had a real pot for a belly and her slumped posture only emphasised it. She wore an old pair of jeans and a dirty sweater and looked light years away from the smiley-eyed girl of yesteryear.
Shelley felt a great wave of nostalgia for how things used to be. They had once been friends and seeing her now brought back how much she had missed that closeness. ‘Hello, Jennie,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
‘Hello, Shelley.’ Jennie’s face creased into a smile which looked genuine. ‘You probably thought that I was an interfering busy-body ringing up Drew and sending him round here—’
‘It’s okay. I realise that you were just being a good neighbour.’ Shelley smiled back. ‘It was dumb of me not to have planned my return a little better.’ But Marco’s bombshell had caught her unawares.
‘I was worried about you being without any heating at this time of year,’ Jennie explained. ‘It’s been unbelievably cold here, and I thought that after Italy—’ She bit her lip as if she’d put her foot in it. ‘Er—it’s just that Drew has had central heating installed in our house, but your mother—God rest her soul—never got round to it.’
Several of Jennie’s words lodged themselves stubbornly in Shelley’s mind, where they refused to shift. She frowned with confusion. ‘Drew has had central heating installed?’ she repeated, like a child learning tables. She looked up at him, her face freezing in horror as she imagined having him that close.
‘Don’t tell me you’re still living at home, Drew!’ she exclaimed in surprise. Only as soon as the words were out of her mouth did she become aware of how preposterous they sounded. As if this vibrant, virile man would still be living at his parents’ old house.
Yet Jennie was…
Drew gave a shout of laughter only slightly less explosive than his sister’s. ‘Er, no. I’m not, as it happens.’
‘Drew?’ Jennie snorted, and for the first time her face came to life as it lit up with amusement. ‘Living at home?’ She turned to her brother. ‘Can you imagine?’
‘Oh, I can imagine it as clearly as Shelley obviously can,’ he drawled, his eyes glinting provocatively in Shelley’s direction. ‘It’s amazing the places that your imagination can take you, if you want it to. And we can all see where Shelley’s imagination is taking her! Wish-fulfilment, I believe it’s called. Yeah, I’ve still got my old room at home, kitten—and this time there’ll be nothing to stop you from visiting me there!’
