Chapter 25
‘Dinner at yours?’ Bethany clutched her phone tighter as Clive’s words sank in.
‘Aye.’ He sounded a bit awkward she thought, imagining him shuffling as he plucked up the courage to ask her out. Ask her out! Was this it? Was he finally arranging a date?
‘I thought we’d be better at my place rather than being gawped at by everyone, and it’s time you saw where I lived so you can see how house trained I am.’
Bethany’s heart leapt. It was a date!
‘I’d love to,’ she said breathlessly. ‘What time?’
‘Come by about seven?’ He paused. ‘Look, I have to confess something first.’
She waited, half expecting him to say something she wouldn’t want to hear, like, Don’t get any daft ideas. We’re just friends, okay?
‘I’m a terrible cook.’ He sighed. ‘There, I’ve said it.’
She almost laughed with relief. ‘That doesn’t matter. I’m a good cook. I’ll make us something if you?—’
‘Certainly not!’ His obvious indignation made her smile. ‘I’ve got loads of takeaway menus, so I thought I’d order us something. I know it’s not the same but, trust me, your stomach will thank me for it.’
Now she did laugh. ‘Okay. Seven it is. Thank you.’
‘Great,’ he said warmly. ‘See you later.’
She ended the call and gazed unseeingly around the living room. Clive had asked her out! Finally, things were happening.
Bethany spent over an hour getting ready for her date with Clive that evening. She hadn’t even taken that long to get ready for Kat and Jonah’s wedding, and this was supposed to be a casual thing. She was, after all, only popping across the road to Stepping Stones for a takeaway. Put like that it seemed ridiculous to worry but she couldn’t help it.
Bethany was starting to wonder what on earth had happened to her lately. She was acting like a schoolkid with a crush, and she was far too old for this sort of thing. Nevertheless, she tried on at least half a dozen outfits and took so much care with her make-up that she ended up, ironically, making a complete hash of it and having to do it all again.
By five to seven she was knocking on the front door of Stepping Stones, dressed in jeans and a simple cream top with three quarter length sleeves and a hanky hem.
‘Smart casual,’ she muttered to herself as doubt attacked her. Was she too casual? Would he be offended that she was wearing jeans? But if she’d worn something smart would he think she was crazy, given they were just…
Whatever the heck they were. Perhaps she’d read too much into this. He might see her as a pal. He might just want to check if she’d made any progress finding homes for Joseph’s precious equines. But he could have asked her that on the phone, couldn’t he? Oh, she was overthinking this. She was simply going to have a takeaway with a friend.
Don’t expect anything else, Bethany. I’m warning you. That way you won’t be disappointed.
She heard Viva yapping and forced a smile as the door opened. The smile, however, became genuine almost instantly as he greeted her and invited her in.
Oh, lord! He looked gorgeous. She was relieved to see he was wearing jeans, too, but smart jeans, not like the ones he wore around the stables, thank goodness. And he had on a navy-blue, checked, brushed flannel shirt which, judging by the creases on the back, he’d taken fresh out of a packet.
She couldn’t help but feel amused. Clearly his ironing skills were as good as his cooking skills since he’d decided to attempt neither.
He scooped up Viva, who was keen to say hello to their guest, and said, ‘She’s pleased to see you again. You, er, look lovely by the way. Shall we go up?’
It was years since she’d been inside Stepping Stones and she’d never been upstairs. She was amazed that she’d forgotten the spacious hallway with its tiled floor and the sweeping staircase that led to Clive’s living quarters. This was a Victorian house that had clearly been built for people with money, and she followed him up the stairs thinking jeans didn’t seem so appropriate any longer. She felt as if she should be dressed like someone from a George Eliot novel.
That feeling disappeared when she reached the landing, though. It was clear immediately that Clive’s flat was thoroughly contemporary. Few of the original features remained intact up here, unlike downstairs, and she was ushered into a living room that was bright, airy, and modern in style.
It was also sparkling clean and spotlessly tidy. Clive might not be brilliant at ironing or cooking, but she couldn’t fault his cleaning skills.
‘Make yourself at home,’ he said, putting Viva down. She noticed the slight tremor in his voice and realised he was as nervous as she was, which gave her hope that this was, indeed, more than just a meeting of two friends. ‘Would you like a drink? I’ve got wine. Red and white. And there’s whisky? Or maybe you’d prefer a soft drink,’ he finished worriedly. ‘I never thought. I might have some squash in the fridge…’
Bethany laughed. ‘White wine sounds good to me,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
His face brightened. ‘Great. I’ll be right back.’
He shot into what she presumed was the kitchen and she glanced around, eyeing his living room curiously while Viva settled herself in a squashy leather armchair, looking as if she’d already made herself quite at home here.
So this was where Clive lived. It was certainly nothing like Whispering Willows, but she had to admit it was more to her taste than her childhood home. There was good quality wooden flooring here, rather than the shabby carpet that graced, or rather disgraced, her own living room. The walls were painted in a slate grey which contrasted well with the white ceiling, skirting boards, architraves, doors, and coving. White shutter blinds added a contemporary twist to the large bay window, which dominated one wall.
There was no fireplace in here. Evidently it had, at some point, been blocked off. Instead there was a modern electric wall fire—the sort that could be operated by a remote control. Above that was a large, flat-screen television. In either recess stood oak wall units which housed a few books and assorted items, including, she noted with interest, several framed photographs of various adults, babies, and children.
In front of the chimney breast was a shaggy rug, which added texture and warmth to the wooden floor, while an oak coffee table stood in the centre of the room, bearing a vase of flowers not dissimilar to the ones he’d bought for her.
Bethany gazed around her, thinking she felt quite at home here. It was, perhaps, a little too perfect if anything. Too tidy. Too neat. But then, he’d probably smartened it up for her benefit. She was sure that, usually, there’d be mugs on that coffee table, the television on, perhaps books or newspapers lying around. She tried to visualise Clive actually living in here and smiled. He must have cared about Joseph an awful lot to give up this place to stay at Whispering Willows!
‘Right, here you are.’ Clive entered the room carrying two glasses of white wine and a stack of takeaway menus. ‘I wasn’t sure what sort of food you fancied so I’ve brought every leaflet I’ve had shoved through the letter box for the last two years or so. As you can see, there’s plenty of choice.’
He grinned at her, and her insides fizzed with delight. She took the glass from his outstretched hand and said, ‘I really don’t mind. Whatever you want is fine by me.’
‘No, no.’ He shook his head in denial. ‘It’s your choice. I invited you and it’s only right you decide what we have.’
‘Well…’ Bethany felt ridiculously pressured to choose the right thing suddenly. What if she selected something he hated? He might decide they were incompatible.
For goodness’ sake, Bethany, you’re not twelve! She honestly couldn’t imagine what had happened to her lately.
Tentatively she suggested a curry from the Indian restaurant that had apparently opened in the town just before Christmas. They also delivered, and Clive immediately checked the online reviews on his phone and approved.
‘Do you always check reviews?’ she asked, amused.
‘I do. And hygiene ratings from the council,’ he admitted. ‘Sorry. It’s just my thing. What do you fancy?’
You, she thought dreamily, but said firmly, ‘A chicken tikka masala for me.’
She waited for him to point out that chicken tikka masala had been invented in England and wasn’t an authentic Indian dish at all, the way Ted had often done, but he didn’t.
‘Do you want rice and naan bread?’ was all he asked.
She smiled, relieved that he hadn’t disappointed her. ‘I love naan bread, but I never eat it all, so it seems a waste.’
‘We could share one?’ he suggested. ‘They’re huge after all.’
‘That sounds perfect.’
Clive ordered the food, including a lamb rogan josh for himself and was told the food would be with them within the hour.
‘I should have asked you what you wanted and ordered it earlier,’ he said ruefully. ‘Never thought. Sorry. Are you really hungry? I can make us a snack if you are.’
‘If I eat anything now I’ll never manage the meal,’ she said. ‘It’s okay. I’m not exactly starving.’
‘That’s good,’ Clive said. He leaned back in the sofa and sighed. ‘I’m not very good at this, Bethany. It’s been a long time since I invited anyone round for dinner, as you can probably tell.’
She wondered who that had been and couldn’t help but think it might have been Jennifer. She hadn’t forgotten the way he’d looked at her that day in Monk’s Folly. But surely if he wanted Jennifer he’d have asked her out by now? And why would he bother with Bethany if that was the case?
‘Please don’t stress,’ she told him kindly. ‘Honestly, it’s just a treat to be away from Whispering Willows. Besides, I’ve been dying to see where you live.’
‘You have?’ He looked surprised. ‘Would you like a guided tour? Not that there’s much to see, I’ll warn you.’
‘I’d love one,’ she admitted. ‘If that’s okay with you.’
He looked relieved to have something to do, and leapt up with enthusiasm, placing his wine glass on the coffee table. ‘Come on then and I’ll show you round.’
Viva immediately jumped off the armchair and trotted behind them, accompanying them on their grand tour.
It was a large flat, which she supposed wasn’t surprising given the size of the house. Even so, she was taken aback at how big the kitchen diner was. Like the living room, it was thoroughly contemporary and utterly spotless.
‘It’s gleaming! You could operate in here,’ she said, impressed.
‘I have done on occasions,’ he told her, then burst out laughing when she wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m joking! Of course it’s gleaming, I never cook.’ He patted the ceramic hob and sighed. ‘I don’t think I’ve even switched this on apart from to heat up the odd tin of beans and fry eggs for butties. Mind, my microwave gets a good workout with all those ready meals.’
‘You ought to teach yourself to cook,’ she said sternly. ‘It’s not good for you to eat ready meals and takeaways.’
‘And Penguins,’ he said, a twinkle in his eye. ‘Have I ever mentioned I’m partial to a Penguin?’
‘Oh well, as long as you have variety in your diet,’ she teased. ‘I’ll buy a few packets and keep them especially for you at Whispering Willows.’
Except, he wouldn’t be visiting Whispering Willows any more, would he? He was back at his usual job now, and the only time she’d see him was if one of the animals got sick, God forbid. And even then it might be Ben who turned up.
‘That would be grand,’ he told her warmly, and she smiled. Maybe he meant to visit anyway, even if it wasn’t to work. The thought cheered her immensely.
Apart from the living room and kitchen diner, the flat consisted of a small study, a bathroom, two good-sized bedrooms, and finally the largest bedroom, which turned out to be Clive’s room, complete with an en suite.
For the first time he looked embarrassed, as if he’d somehow overstepped the mark by bringing her into his room. She determined to put him at his ease.
‘Wow, it’s so tidy! Don’t you ever make a mess?’ She gazed round at the beautifully neat and clean master bedroom and shook her head. ‘I thought men couldn’t do housework.’
‘I can’t abide mess,’ he confessed. ‘I think I had it drummed into me by my mother. She’s very house-proud and had me helping with the cleaning from being a wee boy.’
‘Your mum lives in Scotland?’ she asked as she followed him back into the living room.
‘Oh, aye. Both my parents do. And my brothers. Well most of them.’ He waved a hand at the wall units. ‘Got all their photos on display. They keep sending me them in case I forget what they look like,’ he added jokily.
‘I didn’t realise you had brothers.’
‘I’ve got four of them.’
‘Four!’ She gasped. ‘Your poor mother! How on earth did she cope with five boys?’
‘We were all angels,’ he assured her, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
‘So you’re still in touch with some of them?’ she asked, settling herself back on the sofa, glass of wine in hand.
Clive collected his glass and joined her, both positioned so they were facing each other with Viva lying in between them, her head on her paws.
‘I’m in touch with them all,’ he said, sounding surprised at the question. ‘I go back up to Edinburgh once or twice a year and we talk on the phone all the time. Dad’s health’s not so good these days but he doesn’t grumble. It’s Ma who does that. Says he gets under her feet.’ He grinned. ‘She loves him to bits, but she’d never admit it.’
‘And your brothers? Are they still in Edinburgh?’
‘Two of them are. One’s up in Aberdeen but the other one moved to London.’ He shook his head, clearly finding that amusing. ‘My parents have never got over the shame.’
She laughed. ‘And are any of them married or…’
‘Or miserable old bachelors like me?’ He took a sip of wine. ‘All married. All fathers. I’ve got eight nephews and three nieces. Christmas is a damn expensive time; I’ll tell you that much.’
Bethany gazed into her wine glass wondering how hard that must have been for Clive. He’d already admitted he’d wanted a family of his own. Knowing he had four brothers who were married with children she thought each new arrival must have cut deeply. She remembered how she’d felt when Helena had her two sons. She’d been happy for her friend, of course, but it had hurt, although she’d rather have died than admit it to Helena—or Ted for that matter.
‘Are any of your brothers vets?’ she asked, wanting to turn Clive’s thoughts away from the children in case it was as painful a subject for him as it had always been for her.
‘No. The eldest works on the oil rigs. Two of them are farmers, like Dad. They manage the family farm. The one in London works in IT. We can’t think what went wrong with him.’ He laughed and Bethany’s insides fizzed again. She loved to hear him laugh.
‘So you were brought up on a farm?’
‘I was indeed. It was a mixed arable and livestock farm, but my brothers have diversified somewhat. They specialise in Highland cows now—good for the meat. Very popular because it’s low cholesterol.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘They’re also a real draw for tourists who love them, so my brothers converted some of the outbuildings into holiday lets and had a restaurant built on site. People come for miles to eat there. It’s set in beautiful countryside, but less than half an hour from the centre of Edinburgh.’
His eyes shone as he spoke of his old home and Bethany couldn’t help but ask if he missed living up there.
‘I do sometimes,’ he confessed. ‘It’s always a pleasure to go back there. As I said, I usually manage it twice a year, but with Joseph… Well, anyway, I didn’t make it back for Christmas or Easter, but I’ve promised I’ll go up at the end of summer.’
‘It sounds amazing,’ she said. ‘And do your brothers live on the farm with your parents?’
He laughed. ‘Hell, no! They’d destroy each other. One brother, Marti, he lives there with his wife and kids. Fraser lives in town because his wife’s a GP there. Ma and Dad moved out of the farm a few years ago. They’ve got a nice bungalow just outside the city and it’s much easier for them to manage, even though Dad misses the farm. I don’t think Ma does. She’s taken to urban living like a duck to water.’
‘It must be lovely, having such a big family,’ she said wistfully.
‘I suppose it is,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I don’t see that much of them, but I can’t imagine life without them.’ He gave her a sympathetic look. ‘There was a big age gap between you and Joseph. I suppose you didn’t really get the chance to bond that well.’
She shrugged. ‘He was nearly twelve years older than me so yes, quite a gap. He always looked out for me and took the best care of me he could, but I didn’t really have anyone to play with or talk to. Not until I met Helena anyway. We were at St Egbert’s together—you know, the public school?’
‘Aye, I know it,’ he said. ‘Ben’s younger brother goes there.’
‘Well, Helena was a godsend. We were like sisters, even though I didn’t see her in the school holidays because we lived quite far apart. She was a boarder, whereas I was a day pupil,’ she explained. ‘We bonded from the first day of term, so I guess she sort of made up for not having any siblings around my own age.’
‘Did…’ Clive sighed and shook his head. ‘Sorry, forget it.’
‘No, go on.’ Bethany fondled a sleepy Viva’s ears. ‘What were you going to ask me?’
‘Well, it’s none of my business really, but I was just wondering how soon you realised Helena and Ted were involved with each other?’
Bethany drained her glass and Clive immediately offered to top it up. She assured him she could wait until their takeaway had been delivered and settled back on the sofa, her gaze fixed on the little dog rather than on him.
‘I’d been living with Helena in her flat in York. She insisted. She was so good to me, putting a roof over my head when I needed one. I was working part time in a shop and going to college to learn secretarial skills. When I finished there, I enrolled with an employment agency and, as luck would have it, my very first job was working for Ted. He was already successful even though he was only thirty.’
‘How old were you?’ Clive asked, curious.
‘Twenty by then. I suppose I felt comfortable with him because of Joseph. Anyway, he might have been my boss, but he never intimidated me. I liked him and it was soon pretty obvious that he liked me, too. He came from a wealthy family, but he never flaunted that. And the best thing about him was that he didn’t ask too many questions. He knew a bit about my background but didn’t press me to fill in the details, which I appreciated more than I can say. Within eighteen months we were married. Helena was my maid of honour.’
She sighed. ‘I think there was a spark between them even before we got married if I’m honest. I’ve never really gone over it with her. There didn’t seem much point. I’m certain that nothing happened between them at that time, even though there was clearly an attraction. About a year after we got married Helena announced her engagement and had her own wedding six months after that. I assumed she was happy. Well, they went on to have two sons and she seemed to be in her element being a mother.’
Viva lifted her head and gave her a sympathetic look, as if she’d picked up on the sadness that Bethany was trying to hide.
‘But Helena’s marriage obviously didn’t last,’ Clive said.
‘No. They broke up when the boys were still quite young. I found out later that Helena was already in love with Ted and her husband was a poor substitute. I felt terribly sorry for him. I still do. He’s a nice man and a good father to the boys, despite everything.’
‘Sounds like Helena and Ted were both pretty selfish,’ Clive observed.
‘They weren’t. Not really. You can’t help who you fall in love with.’ She thought about Joseph and Glenn and felt a sudden shame. Joseph’s life had been so lacking in love and happiness, could she really blame him for acting the way he had? After all, she’d forgiven Helena so easily. Why hadn’t she forgiven her own brother?
Because Helena apologised. Helena was truly sorry. Helena stayed in your life.
She mentally shook her head. She couldn’t go into all that again. Not now. ‘They really did try not to get involved but things weren’t good between Ted and me by then. I mean, we didn’t argue or anything. Maybe,’ she admitted, ‘it would have been better for us if we had. As it was, we barely spoke. No anger or nastiness. Just… Nothing. We were living separate lives. Helena was my shoulder to cry on. What I didn’t realise was that she was also Ted’s, and that things were developing behind my back. Anyway, in the end they realised they couldn’t carry on deceiving me, so they came clean and begged for forgiveness.’
‘And you forgave them.’
‘It hurt. I cried a bit. I raged a lot. I felt humiliated.’ She shrugged. ‘After I’d got that out of my system, I realised I was actually okay about it all. Ted and Helena were good people and they cared about me. I didn’t want to lose either of them as friends, and it wasn’t as if they left me destitute. Ted wanted to keep the house we’d lived in, which was fine by me. It was too big for me anyway and, besides, it had been his long before he even met me. I moved out and Ted gave me an incredibly generous divorce settlement, even though I told him I didn’t need it or want it. I suppose it was his way of making amends. But really, the way he made amends was to stay friends with me. I needed them both. I needed their friendship. I’ve been very lucky.’
She looked up and saw the way Clive was watching her. His expressive grey eyes clearly told her that he didn’t think she’d been lucky at all, and he didn’t think much of either her late ex-husband or his second wife.
‘Honestly,’ she said, ‘it’s not as bad as it sounds. Don’t judge them too harshly.’
He bit his lip, and she had an awful feeling he was longing to point out that she’d judged Joseph harshly.
‘Maybe I will have that glass of wine,’ she said.
The doorbell rang and Clive got to his feet, looking relieved. Not half as relieved as Bethany felt.
‘That’ll be the food,’ he said cheerfully. ‘About time, too. I’m famished.’
Viva leapt off the sofa, suddenly wide awake, and followed Clive onto the landing. Bethany closed her eyes and wondered if she’d just soured things between them. Had she come across as way too understanding of Ted and Helena and far too unkind to her brother? She’d never thought of it before, but she could see why Clive might think that. Perhaps she’d ruined things between them already.
‘This smells so good,’ Clive told her on his return, his eyes gleaming. ‘Come on, let’s get the plates. Shall we eat in the kitchen at the table, or would you prefer a tray on your lap?’
Smiling she followed him into the kitchen, glad to see that he’d evidently forgotten all about their conversation and was far more interested in dishing out the food.
Viva was persuaded into her basket and Clive and Bethany washed their hands before dishing out the curries. They split the naan bread, and both agreed it had been a good decision to share one as it was enormous.
‘This is yummy,’ Bethany said approvingly, as they sat at the table tucking in with relish. ‘Ross mentioned it was a decent restaurant when he popped into Lavender House one evening. Apparently he’s taken Clemmie there a few times.’
‘Aye, I’ve heard good things about it. Maybe we should eat there one night, rather than get a takeaway?’
He sounded hesitant but Bethany beamed at him. ‘I think that’s a great idea.’
He smiled back and for a moment they forgot all about the food, until Viva whined at them, evidently still reproachful that they weren’t willing to share the curry.
They took their time over the food, chatting and drinking wine in between mouthfuls of tasty lamb rogan josh and chicken tikka masala.
‘I meant to mention,’ Clive said, ‘I might have found somewhere for some of the ponies.’
Bethany tried to dismiss the sadness she felt at the news. ‘Really? That sanctuary in Bramblewick?’
‘That’s right. Folly Farm.’ He paused, holding his half of the naan bread between his fingers and staring into the middle distance as if he was thinking about something.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Eh?’ He blinked and laughed. ‘Sorry, I was miles away. It’s just, it’s a bit of a quandary really. They can take two of the Shetlands but no more. They’re absolutely overwhelmed with animals at the moment and Folly Farm is only small. We had quite a chat. It’s as I suspected; the sanctuaries are really struggling right now. The owner, Xander, asked me if we had any suitable to send out on loan as riding or companion ponies. You know, to individuals rather than another sanctuary. He thought that might be our best chance of rehoming them.’
Bethany frowned. ‘On loan?’
‘Yes, they’d still belong to you, but they’d live with other people, who’d take care of them. It would have to be a legal agreement, obviously. I was just trying to think if any of them would make good riding ponies or horses. I suppose Pan and Tink might be an option. What do you think?’
Bethany was ashamed to admit she wasn’t sure which of the animals Pan and Tink were.
‘The two Welsh cobs who are friends with Chester. They used to work at a trekking centre until someone reported the neglect that was happening there. Turns out the owners were complete amateurs, and the ponies and horses were suffering. Joseph offered to take three of them in but only two of those survived treatment, sadly. Peter Pan and Tinkerbelle. They’ve been at Whispering Willows for four years now, though, and they’re in good condition. He’s only fourteen and she’s thirteen, so they might be okay, although obviously they’ve not been ridden for all this time and whoever took them would need to take it very slowly. That would have to be made clear.’
‘They’d probably need their fitness building up,’ Bethany said. ‘Maybe some lunging first, see how they go. It could be that they’re fine, but it might also be that they’ll need to start all over again and then it would be a case of treating them as if they were just breaking them for the first time.’ She frowned. ‘We’d really have to trust the people who took them. What if they were as bad as the previous owners?’
‘It would entail careful checks and vetting their homes, obviously.’
‘Homes plural? We couldn’t keep them together?’
‘Well…’ Clive sounded doubtful. ‘I mean, it’s possible, but not likely.’
Bethany’s heart sank. Pan and Tink spent all their time together. How would they cope apart? And then there was Chester. He relied on them. What would it do to him if they were taken from him? He was already grieving for his late owner.
She blinked, realising Clive was still talking.
‘And references. And we’d have to make clear there’d be regular visits from us to make sure he’s okay.’
Bethany couldn’t bring herself to point out that she wouldn’t be in the area to make any visits. How was she supposed to keep an eye on the horses and ponies if she couldn’t be around for them?
As if he’d read her mind Clive said slowly, ‘You could always sign them over to me if you wanted. They’d be my responsibility then and I’d do the checks. I mean, with you not knowing where you’re going to go from here.’
The silence hung heavy between them, and Bethany prodded at a piece of chicken, feeling suddenly miserable.
‘Anyway,’ Clive said, trying to cheer things up, ‘it’s something to think about. How do you feel about the Shetlands going to the sanctuary I mentioned?’
Bethany straightened, realising she hadn’t fully taken in what Clive had said about that.
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea. The Shetlands arrived together. Summer told me all about them when I first got here, and she showed me how bonded they are. They’re a little family. It would be awful to split them up. If the sanctuary can’t take all four we’ll have to wait and look for somewhere else.’
‘It could be a long wait,’ he advised. ‘We’ll be hard pushed to find anywhere willing to take all four.’
‘It’s okay. I’m not in any great rush. I’ve got the house to see to anyway, remember, and that’s going to take some time.’
Clive smiled. ‘So you have. You’re going through with it then?’
‘I am. I want Whispering Willows to appeal to families and I’m sure I can make that happen. I’ve been looking at magazines and websites for ideas. I’m quite excited about it. I never got the chance to do anything with my old home—Ted’s home. It had been in his family for ages when I met him, and it was all done to his taste. I never liked to suggest changing anything. Whenever things needed updating he just hired people and they took care of it between themselves without any input from me.’
‘How very considerate of Ted,’ Clive said drily.
They finished their meal and cleared the plates. Clive stacked everything in the dishwasher then poured them both another glass of wine before leading her back into the living room.
‘I’m glad you’re not going to separate the Shetlands,’ he told her softly as he clinked his glass against hers. ‘They’d have pined for each other I’m sure.’
‘We can’t have that, can we?’ she said, gazing into his eyes. ‘They belong together. They shouldn’t be separated.’
‘I’ll drink to that,’ he said, and they both took a sip of wine, their eyes locked on each other as Bethany’s heart thudded.
‘What are you thinking?’ she asked when he didn’t speak.
He looked a bit embarrassed. ‘Honestly? I’m thinking maybe having a curry wasn’t such a good idea when I really want to kiss you right now.’
She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. ‘But we’ve both had curry. I think they cancel each other out, a bit like garlic.’
‘Are you willing to risk it?’ he asked, his eyes twinkling.
‘I am if you are,’ she said.
‘Oh, I’m willing,’ he assured her, putting his glass of wine on the floor. He took her glass from her hand and put it next to his own then leaned over and kissed her.
Bethany forgot all about the curry and judging by Clive’s reaction he had too. And if he noticed that Viva had followed them into the room and had leapt up into his lap, he gave no indication. He seemed completely focused on kissing Bethany, and that was just fine by her.
Was it ever! She never wanted this kiss to end, except, that wasn’t quite true. She wanted to take it further. She needed more from him than this, however good it was.
She almost groaned with frustration when, once again, he pulled away from her.
‘Go on,’ she said. ‘What’s the excuse this time?’
He blinked. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘You’re going to tell me that was a mistake, aren’t you? That I’m vulnerable and you took advantage of me because—oh, I don’t know—because I’ve had a couple of glasses of wine or something.’
‘Really? That’s what you think?’
‘Well,’ she reminded him, ‘it’s what you said last time.’
‘Aye, I did,’ he said heavily. ‘I’ve a feeling I hurt you a lot more than you let on, too. I’m sorry.’
‘So why did you say it?’
‘Lots of reasons. You had just been crying your eyes out over Joseph, remember. Whatever you say I shouldn’t have kissed you at that moment. But the truth is, I really did want to kiss you for ages before that, and I just couldn’t help myself. But then I thought, you’re not sure where you’re going to end up. Is there any point in starting something when you’re not going to be around for long? Could I really deal with that?’
He’d been worried he’d be hurt? She hadn’t even thought about that possibility, and it made her want him even more. ‘Do you still feel that way?’
‘A bit,’ he admitted. ‘But the thing is, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to my two friends, Joseph and Julian. Life’s short, Beth, and the truth is, all we ever have is now. We get so hung up on worrying about the future but what if the future never happens? I don’t mean that to sound gloomy but it’s a fact. So what we should be doing is living in every single moment as it comes and making the most of each one. And that’s what I want to do.’
‘I don’t know where I’ll end up,’ she told him softly, ‘but I do know that, right now, all I want is to be with you.’
She put her arms around him, and they kissed again, this time with less gentleness and more urgency, barely noticing when Viva gave an indignant yelp and tumbled off Clive’s lap onto the floor. When they finally released each other, she saw the desire in her heart reflected in Clive’s eyes.
‘Beth,’ he said awkwardly, ‘it’s been a while… Years.’
His words were heavy with anxiety and her heart melted.
‘It’s been a while for me, too.’
‘Maybe,’ he mumbled. ‘But what if I let you down?’ He tried to smile. ‘I might have forgotten what to do.’
She cradled his face in her hands.
‘Then we’ll figure it out together.’
Tenderly, he stroked her cheek. ‘Are you sure about this? You don’t think it’s too soon?’
‘We’re consenting adults who are old enough to know our own minds,’ she pointed out.
‘And it’s what you want?’
‘Definitely.’ A sudden doubt attacked her. ‘Unless—I mean—if it’s what you want, too?’
She’d thought she’d read his signals correctly but maybe she’d got carried away. Maybe she’d made too many assumptions.
His smile this time was genuine. ‘Do you really have to ask?’
‘Well then,’ she said, relieved, ‘what are we waiting for?’
He took her hand and, heart racing with anticipation, she followed him to his bedroom, leaving a rather cross Viva behind.