Thank God.
Not that Liza had seriously expected him to be lousy in bed; it was just when you built something up so much in your mind, your expectations soared so sky-high they became almost impossible to live up to.
Anyway, thought Liza, smiling with her eyes closed, it hadn’t been a let-down in any shape or form.
And she definitely hadn’t been bored.
‘By the way, my cousin wants to meet you,’ said Kit, much later that morning.
Liza was admiring his brown legs. Better legs, possibly, than any she had ever seen on a man.
‘Which cousin?’
‘Nicky.’
‘You mean from the Songbird?’
Kit mimicked her look of horror.
‘Yes, from the Songbird.’
‘Oh my God, does she want to kill me?’
‘Don’t panic, business is on the up. The restaurant isn’t going to close after all.’
Liza covered her face with the duvet. Her voice was muffled. ‘She must hate me.’
‘Actually, she agrees with you. As soon as I said you’d eaten there on New Year’s Day, it clicked. That was the day her chef turned up half-cut, apparently, and Nicky had to do most of the cooking herself.’
‘Poor thing.’
‘She’s okay. You’ll get on fine,’ said Kit.
Liza rested her head in the crook of his shoulder.
‘This is proper boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. Meeting the family.’ She smiled at the thought. This was something else she’d shied away from over the years, simply because there hadn’t seemed much point. ‘Whatever next?’
‘May as well mention it while we’re on the subject,’ Kitsaid evenly. ‘My father. This thing is, he
—’
‘Your father wants to meet me too? My God, talk about popular! How does—’
Kit put his hand gently over Liza’s mouth to shut her up.
‘Don’t jump to conclusions. I was about to say don’t expect anything like that from my father, because he absolutely doesn’t want to meet you.’
‘Oh.’
‘No offence.’
‘I’m not offended,’ said Liza, deeply offended.
‘Look, he’s pretty old-fashioned. Upsetting Nicky didn’t do you the world of good, for a start.’
‘Right.’ Liza nodded against his chest. She could understand that.
‘Well, so basically, he wasn’t thrilled when I told him I was seeing you.’ Kit paused and drew breath. ‘Then, when he found out how old you were ...’
Liza winced.
‘Don’t tell me. It was scrape-him-off-the-ceiling time.’
‘Like I said, he’s old-fashioned. He has these set ideas. Set in concrete,’ Kit amended wearily.
‘You know the kind of thing. My sister’s thirty so she should be married and having babies. I’m twenty-three so I should be playing the field.’
‘How does he know you aren’t?’
‘He wants me to play the field with nineteen-year-old girls. Twenty-year-olds. I said I wasn’t interested.’
‘Heavens, maybe he thinks you’re gay.’
‘Worse still,’ Kit looked down at her, ‘I told him I wasn’t playing the field. I told him this thing with you was serious. And, God knows, that’s a first for me.’
Liza’s stomach did a slow, snake-like somersault. Not normally superstitious, she was nevertheless terrified of tempting fate.
‘Isn’t that jumping the gun a bit?’
Kit shrugged.
‘Maybe, but I meant it.’
Oh please, please, thought Liza, squirming with pleasure as his hand trailed down her stomach, don’t ever get bored with me.
Everyone else always seemed to sneer at it, but Dulcie adored daytime TV. She loved the pointlessness of it all ... the viewers’ makeovers, the snippets of movie gossip, the panel of experts deciding which baked beans were the least disgusting. She also enjoyed the effortless jolly banter between her favourite presenters, the how-to-transform-a-box-room-into-a banqueting-hall items, and the cookery slots, which Dulcie found quite soothing to watch.
Best of all though, she liked Nancy, the five-times-married resident problem-solver, who was wonderfully motherly and quite unshockable. If anyone said anything shameful or embarrassing she immediately told them in
