Chapter 39
Arriving back at the hotel, Fen found Jamie up on the terrace with a pot of coffee and a glass of water on the table in front of him and his sunglasses covering his eyes.
When he didn’t react to her approach, she bent down, peered in sideways behind the pitch-black lenses and saw that his eyes were closed.
Quietly pulling out the chair opposite, she settled down to watch him.
His hands were loosely clasped across his stomach, a lock of dark hair had fallen over his tanned forehead, and his long legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle.
He was sleeping silently, thank goodness.
Always nice to know he wasn’t a snorer. Breathing in, Fen caught the faintest hint of his oh-so-familiar lemon and cedar aftershave.
The memory of standing beside him on the bridge earlier came rushing back, their arms touching as they took selfies with the view of the canal behind them, and she experienced a sudden urge to smell his hair, or to bury her face in the V of his open shirt, inhaling the scent of the warm skin between his throat and collarbone.
OK, getting carried away now. Mustn’t do either of those things, especially not up here on the busy roof terrace of the five-star Danieli.
Instead she would make the most of the fact that Jamie was fast asleep, allowing her to relax and spend as long as she liked admiring the angles of his face, those high cheekbones and that chiselled jawline, the way the shirt stretched across his broad shoulders then tapered down to his waist. A couple of inches above the belt buckle there was a narrow gap between the mother-of-pearl shirt buttons, revealing a glint of dark hair and tanned skin.
And then there were the legs, extended in her direction beneath the table.
If she tilted her head, she could see his leather shoes less than a couple of inches from her own sandalled feet.
Did this count as ogling? She probably shouldn’t be doing it. But who wouldn’t want to ogle Jamie Hamilton while he was sleeping in the sunshine? She was only human after all. I mean, look at his hands . . .
Jamie woke up, ridiculously relieved to discover he’d dreamt it all.
Having to stand by and watch while the hotel manager flirted outrageously with Fen, and even worse, Fen flirted back with him, had been almost unbearable.
She hadn’t even seemed to realise how wrong it was to be doing such a thing.
When they’d turned to leave the hotel together and he’d asked her where she was going, she had replied cheerfully, ‘I’ve made a new friend and we’re off out for the evening.
That’s allowed, isn’t it? Look, I’ll maybe catch up with you tomorrow. ’
Then off she’d gone with a spring in her step and clearly living her best life, with Vittorio, the visibly triumphant hotel manager.
Absolute bastard.
Except it hadn’t happened, Jamie reminded himself.
Thank God. His own brain had conjured up this scenario.
Slowly opening his eyes, he orientated himself and realised he’d dozed off at his table up here on the roof terrace.
Plus, he was no longer on his own; Fen had returned and was sitting opposite him.
More than that, thanks to the extra-dark lenses in his Ray-Bans, she had no idea that he was now awake, watching her watch him.
Careful not to move a muscle and give himself away, he saw the expression in her eyes as she silently, intently studied him, her gaze moving from his face to his torso, his arms, then down to his feet beneath the table before switching back to his face once more.
His heart began to race, because for the first time he felt he was seeing her genuine reaction towards him, without the veil of awareness that had always seemed to create a sense of distance before now.
Amazing, amazing, and it made him want to smile with sheer relief, but the last thing he needed was to break the spell.
One of the waitresses approached their table, discreetly signalling to Fen to ask if she’d like a drink. In response, Fen shook her head and mouthed thank you before settling back on her chair to observe him once more.
And be observed in return.
Her eyes were bright, her cheeks tinged with pink from the sun. He loved the way that every time she moved her head, the blonde curls framing her face bobbed as if they were on springs. Like now, as her phone gave a discreet ting on the table and she leaned forward to look at it.
Then she pressed play, and although the volume was low, Jamie was just able to hear the voice note she’d been sent.
‘Hi! He sounds like pure heaven. No wonder you fell in love with him! Look, I’m at work now, but I’ll be home by six, so FaceTime me then. I can’t wait to meet him! OK, got to go, see you later. Byeee!’
What? The voice was female and sounded faintly familiar, but from here he couldn’t figure out who it was. Talk about a roller coaster. Holding his breath, not even reacting to the fly that had landed on the back of his hand, Jamie watched as Fen beamed and sent back a voice note of her own.
‘I promise you, he’s gorgeous, better than pure heaven. Honestly, you won’t believe it when you see him! I’ll call you at six. Bye.’
Just as he’d been getting his hopes up. And that bloody fly was still on the back of his hand.
He watched as Fen, now smiling to herself like a woman with the best secret in the world, fired off another message to someone else.
Who, though? Disa, maybe. Or Molly, or Tonia in Amsterdam.
Or the gorgeous, irresistible man she was evidently besotted with.
Taking a deep breath and flicking his hand to dislodge the fly at last, he raised his head as if seeing Fen for the first time and took off his Ray-Bans, blinking as the sun shone directly into his eyes. ‘Hey, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Sorry, have you been waiting long?’
‘Not too long.’
‘Was I snoring?’ He knew he didn’t snore.
‘Like a hippo.’ She grinned and shook her head. ‘No. How was your interview?’
‘Great. Didn’t swear once.’
‘Well done, you.’ Her tone was playful.
‘Did you find the sculpture garden?’
‘I did. And I met someone there.’ Her face lit up and he braced himself for the worst. ‘Honestly, wait till you hear, it was like it was meant to happen . . .’
When she’d finished telling him the story, Jamie exhaled with relief and said, ‘Thank God for that.’
They arrived at the apartment behind the sculpture garden shortly before six. Fen rang the doorbell and they both heard the woman whose name he now knew was Hannah exclaim, ‘Merlin, they’re here!’
She opened the door with the cat cradled in her arms, and the introductions were made.
‘Fen told me you were a rugby player. I’ve seen you on TV.’ Clearly unwell but delighted to see them, Hannah welcomed him before leading the way slowly into her living room.
‘And she showed me the photos of you and Merlin,’ Jamie told her. ‘He’s a handsome boy.’
Better still, he was a cat.
Fen set up the video call and Kayla’s face filled her phone screen, her eyes widening as she took her first proper look at Merlin on his owner’s lap.
‘Look at you! Merlin, you’re my dream date! Can you swish your tail for me?’
Unbelievably, with one slow blink, Merlin gazed at Kayla’s russet and gold spiky hair, and gave his black tail an actual swish.
‘I love him,’ Kayla declared, and now her eyes filled with tears, because back in February, her beloved elderly cat Bandit had died a week after his fourteenth birthday.
Wiping her face with a tissue, she went on, ‘I really do. And I’m coming out to Venice next weekend.
I’d love to meet him properly then. Obviously it’s up to you, and there’s no hurry at all, but if you think I’d be good enough, I’d be so happy to look after him for you, once you’re ready for me to take over. ’
‘Now you’re making me cry too.’ Hannah managed a watery smile. ‘I couldn’t ask for anyone better. If Merlin has to have a new mum, I’d love it to be you.’ She turned her attention back to the cat. ‘How about that, sweetheart? Does it sound like the answer to all our prayers?’
Another tail-swish, followed by a contented purr.
Reaching over and stroking Merlin’s head, Jamie said, ‘Looks to me as if you two ladies have got yourselves a deal.’
Oxford
‘Hattie?’
Absently, she said, ‘Hang on a sec.’ They were in Marks even those that looked ready could be tragically unripe, while others might look perfect but turn out to be well past their best. She peered suspiciously at the ones in front of her and—
‘Hattie!’
At least she’d trained him at last to stop calling her Hats. Straightening up, she heard smothered giggles behind her and turned to see what Guy wanted.
Oh God, and there he was. Down on one knee.
‘Hattie, I love you with all my heart. You mean everything to me. Will you make me the happiest man in the world and . . .’
‘Get up,’ she squeaked. ‘Stop it.’
‘. . . say you’ll marry me?’ he continued, undeterred.
‘Please don’t do this. It’s embarrassing.’ Shoppers had stopped shopping and all around them people were turning to watch. Phones were being pulled out of pockets and held up to capture the moment.
Guy said, ‘It’s only embarrassing until you say yes.’
Was this partly her own fault? Since they’d taken to spending so much more time together, he’d found himself round at her flat having to tolerate the kind of films he’d once have run a mile from.
At a guess, it was being forced against his better judgement to watch the Mamma Mia!
ones that had had this unexpected side-effect.
In his head, he now appeared to think he was Oxford’s answer to Pierce Brosnan.
At least he wasn’t singing, although she wouldn’t put it past him. Imagine the horror. As if this wasn’t agonising enough.
‘Come on, love,’ urged an older woman in a pink straw hat. ‘Don’t keep him waiting!’
Her friend nodded in agreement. ‘That’ll be killing his knee.’
‘It’s not doing it any favours,’ Guy agreed with the kind of twinkle in his eye that older women especially loved. Returning his attention to Hattie, he gave her a deeply soulful look. ‘My angel, I adore you. All I want is for us to be together for ever.’
‘Aah,’ sighed another woman. ‘Isn’t that romantic? Hurry up, though, cos my chap’s waiting outside for me in the car and he’s a grumpy sod.’
‘Sounds like my old man.’ A second woman gave a snort of laughter.
‘I’m not a grumpy sod,’ Guy told them. ‘I promise. Hattie, please say you’ll marry me, before my back gives out.’
Their audience was starting to grow impatient. On the defensive, Hattie blurted out, ‘You mean marry you again? Do you even remember what happened last time?’
‘Ooh . . .’ The people around them promptly turned to stare at Guy, still with one knee on the hard floor and visibly starting to suffer. Pink Straw Hat said accusingly, ‘What did you do to her?’
‘Nothing! I just wasn’t the best husband back then. But I’ve learned my lesson now. And I promise – absolutely promise – to make up for it. Hattie, if you say yes, you’ll never regret it.’
They were still the centre of attention.
If only she could be anywhere but here. What their audience didn’t know was that it was the third time Guy had done this.
The first proposal had happened in their local Italian restaurant, but on that occasion, thank God, it had been so noisy and busy that no one else had noticed.
The second time had been on the evening of Guy’s forty-third birthday, when he’d hired out his local pub for a party and had concluded his birthday speech with a heartfelt declaration of love and a proposal.
She’d turned him down that time too, but everyone had made light of the moment and the whole thing had been passed off as a joke.
Had he really thought that trying it again, this time in the M&S food hall, would make it third time lucky? God, the temptation to turn and walk away, abandoning him here in the fruit and veg section, was almost overwhelming.
But even though he didn’t know it yet, she secretly loved him, and she couldn’t bring herself to do that to him. Moving away from the serried rows of avocados that were either overripe or underripe, she stepped forward and held out both hands to help him to his feet.
‘Hooray!’ Pink Straw Hat and her friend, jumping the gun a bit, began to cheer and applaud.
‘Thank you,’ Hattie told Guy. She gave him a quick hug and whispered in his ear, ‘You’re such an idiot. Can we get out of here now?’
‘Is that a yes?’ His face brightened with delight and he planted a quick kiss on her mouth as the rest of the assembled shoppers joined in with the clapping.
The next moment, a uniformed supervisor appeared from nowhere with a bunch of pink and yellow roses and presented them to Hattie, saying, ‘With very best wishes from all of us!’
Oh Lord, and over there by the bakery section was one of her nosiest and least favourite neighbours. Definitely time to go. Having thanked the supervisor, Hattie grabbed Guy’s arm and hurried him out of the store.
‘I can’t believe you said yes,’ he exclaimed as they reached the exit.
‘I didn’t. And please, I never want you to ask me to marry you again. I told you last time.’ She shook her head at him. ‘We’re friends, that’s all. We spend time together.’
‘Quite a lot of time.’
‘That’s irrelevant.’
‘I’d rather be with you than anyone else.’
‘Also irrelevant.’ Honestly, did he think this was easy for her? Although since he had no idea what a struggle it was, presumably he did. But that was the whole point, she just needed more time to make sure they both really had changed enough to make it work.
How much more time? Hopefully they were getting there. When it was right, she’d know for sure.
‘We didn’t get the avocados,’ said Guy.
‘Doesn’t matter.’ Smiling, Hattie tucked her arm companionably through his. ‘Come on, let’s go.’