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Rob held her gaze and smiled softly, gratified that Hannah was a tiny bit nettled, and hoping his expression conveyed the depth of how he felt about her and definitely didn’t feel about Clara. ‘She didn’t even pat Scrumpy when she came into the house,’ he said. ‘Not a dog person, apparently.’
Hannah laughed, her face softening. ‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘Never mind.’
Barnaby nodded at Rob. ‘I’ll make up the sofa bed in the lounge after dinner. Now you two aren’t pretending to be happily married, you can have a bed each.’
Rob glanced at Hannah, wondering if she was feeling the same wave of disappointment. Obviously sharing a bed with Scrumpy fidgeting between them hadn’t been very comfortable, but he’d still enjoyed the strange intimacy of it. Mostly, he just liked being wherever Hannah was.
‘So what else have you done to get into my good books?’ asked Barnaby, pulling a bottle of wine out of the fridge and grabbing three glasses off the shelf.
‘Oh, nothing much,’ said Rob. ‘Although . . .’ He hesitated, wondering if he was about to cross a line. Barnaby seemed pretty easy-going, but everyone had their limits.
‘What?’ asked Hannah, her eyes narrowing.
Rob blew out his cheeks. ‘You know this morning when Scrumpy was licking your feet and you thought that was really adorable?’
‘Mmm,’ said Barnaby, his forehead wrinkled in confusion.
‘I smeared a bit of fish pâté on your flip-flops.’
Hannah snorted her wine down her chin as Barnaby started to laugh. ‘You didn’t,’ she said.
‘I did,’ said Rob. ‘I’m really sorry. The clock was ticking and I was getting a bit desperate.’ On cue, Scrumpy rubbed himself against Barnaby’s legs, as if to say, ‘Look how cute I am.’
‘Well, it succeeded,’ said Barnaby, scratching between Scrumpy’s ears. ‘I’m happy to be his guardian for however long it takes.’
‘Thanks, Dad,’ said Hannah.
‘But honestly,’ he said, giving both of them a stern look. ‘You could have just asked.’
‘I was planning to,’ said Rob with a helpless smile. ‘I was just laying the groundwork so you definitely wouldn’t say no.’
Barnaby gave them both an indulgent smile. ‘Rob, I’ve barely seen Hannah in seventeen years. I can’t think of anything I’d say no to, if it really mattered to her.’
Rob looked between them as Hannah started to sob, then moved into her dad’s open arms. Rob turned away, wondering what on earth had happened on their walk. Hannah would no doubt tell him later, but for now he had a fancy dinner to serve.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
‘I think you should talk to Luke,’ said Hannah to her dad the following evening. ‘I can organise it.’ She glanced around the table under the overgrown pergola at the back of Joyce’s house. Rob was over by the lemon tree with Scrumpy and Joyce’s son Dominic, who was smoking furiously and kept throwing appreciative glances in her direction. It made her wish she’d put a longer skirt on, or maybe a Victorian nightgown that covered her from the neck down. Joyce was in the kitchen, noisily loading the dishwasher.
‘I’d like to,’ Barnaby said nervously. ‘He must be so angry with me.’
‘He’s furious,’ said Hannah. ‘But he needs to understand what happened, and why. He’ll give you ten minutes to explain if I ask him to.’
‘I don’t want him to be upset with your mother instead,’ said Barnaby, twisting his wine glass anxiously. ‘It wasn’t her fault.’
‘Why don’t you ALL talk?’ she suggested. ‘Clear the air a bit. As far as I know, Mum has never been open about what happened, or met anyone new. We might want to consider the possibility that she’s also been carrying this burden for seventeen years.’
‘I suppose she has,’ said Barnaby. ‘There isn’t a day goes by when I don’t wish I’d done things differently.’
‘But you didn’t,’ said Hannah. ‘Bad decisions were made all round, and everyone’s spent too long living with the consequences. Let me speak to Luke tomorrow, see if he’ll consider coming out here to see you.’
Barnaby nodded. ‘OK. But not your mother. I’m not ready for Elena yet.’
‘No,’ said Hannah. ‘But I shouldn’t worry. Mum doesn’t really go further than Camberley on a good day, I don’t think she’s going to be rushing to get on a plane to Spain.’
‘It’s a lot for Luke to take in,’ said Barnaby. ‘The whole America thing, the decisions I made, his dad having been with . . . a man. Do you think he’ll even begin to understand?’
Hannah smiled softly, realising for the first time how alike her dad and Luke were. The same anxiety about what others thought of them, the same selflessness at the expense of their own happiness. ‘He’ll understand just fine, Dad. He’s a good person.’
