I waved until I couldn't see him any more. The flickering lamps of the town were lost in the deep lavender light of the early evening, and the dark hulk of Rampling Gate appeared for one uncertain moment like the ghost of itself on the nearby rise.
I sat back and closed my eyes. Then I opened them slowly, savouring this moment for which I had waited so long.
He was smiling, seated in the far corner of the leather seat opposite, as he had been all along, and now he rose with a swift, almost delicate movement and sat beside me and enfolded me in his arms.
'It's five hours to London,' he whispered.
'I can wait,' I said, feeling the thirst like a fever as I held tight to him, feeling his lips against my eyelids and my hair. 'I want to hunt the London streets tonight,' I confessed a little shyly, but I saw only approbation in his eyes.
'Beautiful Julie, my Julie…' he whispered.
'You'll love the house in Mayfair,' I said.
'Yes…' he said.
'And when Richard finally tires of Rampling Gate, we shall go home.'
