Chapter Seventy-Three
While at the craft fayre, Milo bought jam, chutney and marmalade, also a homemade quiche and chocolate cake. He insisted we scoff it the moment we were home.
‘I don’t know about you’ – he murmured in my ear – ‘but all that sex has made me hungry again.’
‘I’m hungry for you,’ I giggled.
Oh, cringe, Tilly. That was such an uncool statement.
But then I thought sod it, because it was true. I was hungry for him. I couldn’t wait to be alone with Milo again.
We then paused to browse at another stallholder’s table. Happy Days Designer Jewellery was displaying gorgeous handmade silver and copper treasures. I admired a lapis lazuli pendant with matching earrings. Milo promptly bought the set, causing me to squeak with delight.
‘I’m going to wear them now,’ I declared, threading the beautiful earrings through my lobes. ‘Can you help me with the pendant’s clasp?’
‘You’re like a little girl at Christmas,’ said Milo in amusement.
‘I feel like it’s Christmas,’ I said honestly.
And it was true. There were all sorts of emotions cascading through me, and they were all good. Happiness. Joy. Gratitude. Not to mention a huge sense of anticipation – just like when you’re about to open a present that gives you all you’ve ever wanted.
‘Oh wow,’ I said, bobbing down in front of the stallholder’s mirror. I admired the blue stones with their bright threads of gold. ‘Stunning.’
‘Like you,’ murmured Milo, as he fastened the pendant’s clasp.
We finally left the fayre walking hand in hand, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hetty. As we walked past her, she gave me an almost imperceptible nod. I beamed at her by way of response. Oracle Hetty may claim never to be wrong about her predictions, but I didn’t quite have the nerve to reveal what she’d said when Milo enquired about the reading.
‘Oh, you know,’ I answered vaguely. ‘This and that.’
As we headed back to Starlight Cottage, Milo squeezed my hand. I glanced up at him.
‘Tilly, how do you feel…’ he trailed off.
‘Go on,’ I prompted.
‘How do you feel about staying the night with me at Starlight Cottage?’
I’d grinned up at him.
‘I’d like that,’ I said honestly.
‘Good,’ he said, squeezing my hand again. ‘And how about we enjoy our quiche and chocolate cake in front of the telly.’
‘Sounds good. A film?’
‘I fancy a scary one this time.’
‘Oooh,’ I said. ‘I’m not a big fan of horror films. They frighten the living daylights out of me.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Milo assured. ‘If you get nervous, I’ll hold you tight. I know the perfect movie.’
‘Right,’ I said, hoping he wasn’t going to suggest The Exorcist or something. ‘What have you got in mind?’
He grinned mischievously.
‘ The Curse of the Were-Rabbit starring Wallace and Gromit.’
I playfully cuffed him on the arm.
‘You had me going there.’
He regarded me with wide innocent eyes.
‘But it’s true,’ he protested. ‘You haven’t seen the decimation those bunnies cause. And they’re threatening the annual giant vegetable contest. The Starlight Mafia would have a field day if that happened here. They’d be ringing up the local council demanding they do something.’
‘Surely Oracle Hetty would tune in to the ether and come up with a humane solution,’ I bantered.
‘Now there’s a thought,’ said Milo, suddenly looking serious. ‘Do you know, I have a mate who is a bit like Hetty. But unlike her, Jack claims he can communicate with vegetables.’
‘Vegetables?’ I frowned.
‘Straight up,’ said Milo. ‘Jack and the beans talk.’
I burst out laughing.
‘That’s bad, Milo. Really bad.’
‘Made you laugh though, didn’t it!’ he said, as we swung through the garden gate. ‘I’ll go and pop this quiche in the oven. You fetch the dogs. Oh, and don’t forget’ – he waggled his eyebrows – ‘bring your toothbrush.’
And so the scene was set. Me and Cindy, Milo and Rambo. But it wasn’t just Sunday night we all spent together. Somehow, me and Cindy were there again on Monday evening. And Tuesday. And Wednesday. In fact, the whole week.
At work, Lisa was delighted for me. She’d been the first to notice the shift in my – as Hetty would say – aura.
And who knew how long things would have continued like this if Milo’s son hadn’t turned up just as we were canoodling on the sofa.
Milo’s arm was around me. The only light in the room was that from the muted television. Just as Milo leant in to kiss me full on the mouth, the front door banged. Suddenly, the overhead light flooded the room. A bug-eyed Milo and I were staring at a young man who looked back at us in both surprise and shock.
‘Pops?’ he gasped, before staring at me. ‘And whatever are you doing here… Mum?’