Chapter Twelve
Flint was on the sofa, hugging a cushion and watching The Simpsons when I got home. ‘Good day?’ he asked, leaping up to make me a cup of tea.
‘Pretty good, yes.’ I glanced around the living room. It was scattered with scraps of paper, all bearing pencil drawings. ‘What have you been up to?’
‘Ah, nothing. Just fiddling. Designing my perfect house, actually. Do you want a biscuit?’
‘No, I’ll do myself something on toast in a bit. Have you eaten?’
‘I had some scrambled egg earlier. Ash rang, by the way. Said he’ll call you again later.’
‘Fine.’ I sat back and took the mug Flint offered me. It struck me then, suddenly and horribly, that this was probably what married life would be like, and I had to sit very still until the palpitations went away. Surely Luke and I would never descend to this level. Flint and I had known each other all our lives. We were entitled, indeed expected , to have conversations like this. I was hardly likely to come home to be greeted by him suggesting sex in the garden before dinner. Urgh, nasty thought, nasty thought. It took ten minutes with a furtively bought copy of Young Bride (yes, all right, I know , but some of those brides weren’t that young) in my room before I got rid of that image.
‘I’m going out in a bit, Flint,’ I called over the banister. ‘If Ash rings back, tell him I’ll be around tomorrow.’
‘Okay.’ Flint came halfway up the stairs. ‘Are you meeting up with Katie and Jazz then?’
‘No. Well, yes, maybe.’ I certainly wasn’t about to tell my brother, in his fragile, midlife-crisis state that I was going out for a frenzied evening of passion with my new fiancé. Flint had begun to recover, slowly, from the shambling, questioning heap that had got off the plane a few days ago, swearing never to go nearer to any financial institution than the local ATM. I didn’t want to rub his nose in anything by pointing my own good fortune at him.
‘Great. Enjoy.’ He went back down to sample early-evening TV a little further, while I changed into a stunning little asymmetrical tea dress and pink heels to celebrate my first ever outing as an affianced woman.
Luke turned up driving a huge black car which looked like the Batmobile. ‘What is this?’ I climbed into the passenger seat, which was huge and deep; it was like sitting in a leather bucket.
Luke grinned. ‘An investment is what this is. There’s people queuing up to buy this honey, so I thought we’d be the first ones to take her out for a spin.’
I felt a tremble of excitement start somewhere near the base of my stomach. ‘It does look pretty sleek.’
‘Yeah. And there’s plenty of room in the back, too, for any extra-showroom activities, if you see what I mean.’
The tremble turned to something of a sinking feeling. I had hoped that our first sex as a proper couple might have been somewhere more salubrious than the backseat of a car. ‘We could always go back to mine,’ I said. ‘If you want. I mean, why don’t you move in for a bit? It’d save on all those hotel bills, until we can get the flat sorted out.’
Luke put his foot down and the car sleekly responded, growling its way out of town. ‘Well, you’ve already got your brother staying, haven’t you? Besides’ — he turned the car so we were heading north — ‘the hotel is a tax-deductible expense. Patience, Willow, things will come together soon enough. Anyway I’m really looking forward to christening this gorgeous hunk of metal somewhere quiet. There’s a spot above Pickering, looking out over the moors. There’ll be no one there this time of evening. How about it?’ He grinned manically.
The tremble was back, this time an unmistakeable craving. ‘Mmmmm.’ I slid down in the leather seat so that the dress rode up and showed my thighs. ‘Definitely.’
‘And after that’ — almost without looking, Luke reached across and put his hand on the smooth skin above my knee — ‘there’s a great restaurant out that way. Been meaning to try it.’
I wriggled again, aware of his gaze leaving the road to play hotly over my exposed legs. Slowly and deliberately I bent one knee and rested a high heel on the edge of the seat so that the dress fell away to reveal the tiny thong I’d chosen purposefully to go under it. ‘Sounds delicious.’
We broke the speed limit all the way to Pickering.