‘Well, my ex-wife was never keen. She was a career woman, not really interested in kids. I couldn’t really force her to have them against her will.’ There, that was it, the last box ticked.
Sally’s heart melted at the thought of this wonderful man wanting children and being cruelly denied them by his coldhearted career-driven harridan of an ex.
OK, he was now officially perfect. All her life she’d been getting herself involved with men who ran a mile if you so much as mentioned babies. And everyone knew that older men made better fathers. Look at Michael Douglas, he doted on his gorgeous children and dazzling young wife.
’Whoops, hang on, let me just ...’
Sally gave up the struggle to haul herself out of the passenger seat and allowed Nick to do the honours, providing a shoulder to lean on as she and her crutches navigated their way onto the pavement. By some miracle she didn’t trip over them. Gathering herself, she handed the front door key to Nick and said, ‘Coming in?’
It was a rhetorical question. Of course he was. Nick said cheerfully, ‘I think someone has to make sure you don’t fall down the stairs, don’t you?’
Sally took deep breaths; this was it, she knew it. Gabe was out, they had the place to themselves and the situation couldn’t be more perfect. Well, OK, it would have been a teenier bit more perfect if she didn’t have her gammy leg to contend with, but it certainly wasn’t going to stop them.
Finally they reached the flat. Somewhat unromantically, Sally discovered, all the wine she’d drunk had found its way to her bladder and she was forced to excuse herself in order to visit the bathroom. Returning, she found Nick gazing out of the living- room window. Lit from behind, he had a profile like a Greek god.
He turned, indicating the kitchen. ‘I put the kettle on. Thought you might like a coffee.’
OK, it was time. He wanted her to be the one to make the first move. And he was smiling, waiting for her to make it. Approaching him – clunk – and taking care – clunk – not to bash into the coffee table, Sally smiled back then deliberately took her arms out of the crutches and propped them against the wall. Facing Nick, she said, ‘I don’t want a coffee.’
‘No? Well, that’s all right.You don’t have to have one.’Amused, Nick said, ‘It’s not compulsory’
‘Can you believe this is happening?’ Without the support of the crutches Sally felt herself beginning to sway.
‘Steady.’ He reached for her. ‘You’re not a stork.’
Who wanted to be a stork? ‘It’s the last thing I expected: Sally gazed at him. ‘Is it the last thing you expected?’
He looked bemused, frowned slightly. ‘Well, yes, but ice skaters do injure themselves, so I suppose there’s always a chance ...’
‘Doesn’t matter.’They appeared to be talking at cross purposes but Sally was beyond caring. ‘It won’t make any difference, I promise.’ Curling her arms around his neck, unable to hold back a moment longer, she lunged forward and kissed him passionately, full on the mouth.
Chapter 42
Making his way along Radley Road, Gabe slowed and looked up at the window of the flat.
Puzzled by the sight of what appeared to be two people locked in a passionate embrace, he reached instinctively for the camera around his neck and peered through the long lens, adjusting it until it slid into focus.
What the ... ?
Gabe’s heart began to thud in his chest. Jesus. Sally and Lola’s father. Sally, wrapped around him like a scarf. Lola’s father .. . for crying out loud, how long had this been going on? How long had they been carrying on behind his back? And not only his back, Lola’s too, because she absolutely definitely didn’t know about this.
Unable to watch any more, Gabe put down the camera and turned away. His hands were trembling and he felt as if he’d been punched hard in the stomach. Talk about sly, underhand, deceitful ... How dare they? He swallowed and turned back; yes, they were still there, no longer kissing but only inches apart, holding each other and gazing into each other’s eyes, murmuring sweet nothings ... So this was the kind of man Nick James was, nothing but a sleazy Lothario.
How fucking dare he?
Something truly horrible was happening. When Nick jerked away, Sally said, ‘Sshh, it’s OK, you don’t have to worry about Lola any more. She understands.’
But Nick wasn’t looking relieved. More like horrified. Eyes wide with disbelief, he said, ‘This isn’t to do with Lola.’
‘Wh-what do you mean? I d-don’t understand.’ It came out as a whisper. ‘I thought you liked me.’
‘I do like you.’ Nick shook his head. ‘Of course I do,’ he insisted. ‘You’re Lola’s friend.’
This was a nightmare. Sally felt sick and suddenly, hideously sober. In a lifetime of faux pas, this one took the biscuit. Never before had she made quite such a prize dick of herself as this.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Nick was clearly mortified. ‘I had no idea: That only made it worse.
‘No, I’m sorry. I thought you were flirting with me! At least she could be honest — there was no point in trying to pretend the kiss had been some kind of accident.
Vehemently Nick shook his head. ‘I was just being friendly. I was glad we seemed to be getting on so well. I want my daughter’s friends to like me.’
Humiliation was washing over Sally in waves; she’d liked him so much she was mentally already pregnant with their first child. How could she have got it so utterly, completely wrong?
How was she ever going to erase the memory of that kiss from her brain? She’d never be able to forget the moment she launched herself at his mouth and felt him freeze in disbelief ... oh, oh God...
‘Come on, sit down: Nick skilfully steered her away fromthe window and lowered her into a chair. ‘And don’t be upset. I’m incredibly flattered.’
But not flattered enough to reciprocate her feelings, obviously.
