‘Maybe that’s what I should do.’ Kate ran an index finger longingly over the sweeping curve of beach. ‘Just get out of here, go and live somewhere completely out of the way. Why not?’ she said accusingly, spotting Dexter’s raised eyebrows. ‘A tropical beach would suit me fine, on a little island in the middle of nowhere. I could run a beach bar.’
‘I’ve heard Weston-Super-Mare’s nice,’ said Dexter. ‘The Seychelles. I’m serious,’ Kate insisted. ‘I was thinking about it last night. The only reason I came back here was because this was where my family lived. Well, that’s a complete shambles now. They’re both off doing their own thing. So basically what’s left to keep me here? Who’d miss me?’
Having spent the last weeks biting his tongue, Dexter said, ‘Me.’
Chapter 46
There, he’d done it. The sensation of a tightly coiled spring letting go and abruptly bouncing undone ricocheted through Dexter’s chest.
Kate, who hadn’t been paying attention, said distractedly, ‘What?’
‘I would. I’d miss you. I wouldn’t want you to go.’ It was such a relief to be able to say it at last.
Now that he’d started, Dexter found he couldn’t stop.
Kate shot him a pitying look. ‘It’s only barmaiding, for heaven’s sake. Anyone can do it. If you weren’t so stroppy you’d find it a lot easier to keep staff.’
‘I’m not talking about a replacement barmaid. That isn’t why I don’t want you to go,’ said Dexter.
Kate frowned. ‘I’m not with you.’
Suddenly wishing he was better looking — and a stone slimmer — Dexter said brusquely, ‘Do I have to spell it out? I like you. A lot. OK, I really fancy you.’
Kate stared at him in disbelief. Belatedly it occurred to Dexter that he may just have terrified her into handing in her notice, grabbing her passport and jumping onto the nearest plane. This could, in fact, be a fine example of shooting yourself in both feet simultaneously.
‘What is this?’ Kate demanded at last. ‘Some kind of consolation prize? Jake Harvey wasn’t interested in me but never mind, you’re prepared to step into the breach?’
Another flash of lightning crackled across the sky, followed almost at once by an ear-splitting crash of thunder. The storm was directly overhead now.
‘I thought Jake was interested,’ said Dexter.
‘Oh, he was. For one night only. As soon as he’d got what he wanted,’ Kate was defensive, ‘the novelty wore off.’
‘Good,’ Dexter said bluntly. ‘I’m glad. His loss.’
‘Look, you really don’t have to say all this stuff. I’m not a child.’
‘I’m doubly glad to hear that. Can I tell you something?’
‘Could I stop you?’ Kate retaliated, and although her tone was brisk, Dexter saw that her hands were trembling. Whether that was a good or a bad sign was anybody’s guess.
‘It was you who made me realise Nuala and I had no future.’ Dexter came straight to the point.
‘We were a disaster together. We brought out the worst in each other. But you’re the complete opposite of Nuala. The first time I saw you, I thought you were fantastic. Unique. I remember wishing Nuala could be more like you, except of course she can’t, because she just
OK. Here came the downright scary bit.
‘I don’t believe you.’ Kate was staring at him as if he’d just grown an extra head. ‘You’re making it up.’
Dexter rubbed the faint growth of dark stubble on his chin. ‘Trust me, I don’t have the imagination to make up something like this.’
Her tone accusing, Kate said, ‘If it was true, you’d have said something before now. I mean, why wouldn’t you?’
‘You weren’t ready to hear it. Plus, I’m a man,’ Dexter amended. ‘We don’t just go around blurting this stuff out, you know. It’s not the easiest thing to do. We have to be pretty desperate.’
Rain was rattling the windows; it sounded as though shovel-loads of gravel were being hurled dementedly at the glass.
‘But ... but you’re so
‘So? You’re rude to me too. But I don’t say the kind of things I used to say to Nuala.’ Dexter shook his head to emphasise his point. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. Not with you.’
Kate was gazing anxiously into her empty brandy glass. ‘I could do with another refill.’
‘Forget it, you’d only fall off your stool. Anyway,’ said Dexter, ‘if I can get through this sober, so can you.’
Kate’s foot was jiggling away again. She didn’t speak.
‘Look,’ Dexter ploughed on, ‘I’m never going to be Mr Sweetness and Light, that’s just not the way I am. Who’s that Irish fellow on breakfast TV, the cheery chubby one all the housewives love?’
‘Eamonn,’ said Kate.
