Chapter 29 #2
Then his eyes go wide and he slaps his fist into his hand. ‘How have I been so stupid? You want to buy the cottage for yourself!’
This is typical Lando: adding two and two and making fifty-three. It’s not helpful, but at least it gives me thinking time.
I stare up at him, knowing it’s time to give him a reality check. ‘Lando! With the mortgage Mum’s saddled with, I can barely afford a viola plant. I don’t have the money to pay for a house!’
He bites his lip. ‘Sorry. I keep forgetting.’
That we can’t dip in our back pocket and pull out a few hundred thousand pounds loose change.
I go for the double bluff as usual. ‘Take the viewing, you’ll probably love it. Let’s go and buy you some geraniums in case you need them for your window boxes.’
I march out towards the racks of pink petunias with my head held high.
Tia hurries after me and slides her arm through mine. ‘On the upside, we’ve done a whole morning surrounded by coffee, paint, small children and hibiscus juice, all without mishaps.’
I whirl into the circular space in front of the hydrangea display, catch my skirt in my hand and spin around. ‘And the dress is still as good as new!’
Lando’s eyes lock onto my legs. ‘So there are slits after all!’
Tia laughs. ‘The hidden ones are the most exciting.’
My eyes slide down the snowy shirt inside Lando’s open jacket, past his thumbs looped through his belt hooks and stop on the bulge of his fly.
My stomach clenches for what feels like a lifetime and the colourful flowers in the background blur, then my rational head kicks in.
I do a sideways jump to get as far away as I can in one leap, but as I land my ankle tips.
As a pain shoots up my leg, my knee buckles and I sink down onto the ornamental pavers.
‘Maeve!’ Tia stoops and kneels beside me. ‘What happened! Are you okay?’
I can’t confess I threw myself onto the floor to stop myself perving on Lando’s groin. The flash of silver leather on the bricks beyond my hem gives me a rock-solid excuse.
‘I slipped off the edge.’ I reach to unbuckle my sandals so at least I have some chance of getting up again. ‘It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last.’
Tia finds my hands, helps me to my feet and hands me my sandals. ‘Please promise me we’ll still be falling off pavements when we’re eighty.’
I smack my palm against hers in mid-air and grasp her fingers. ‘Too right we will, Mrs.’
When I finally glance down again, I’m staring at grey suit shoulders and a mass of dark brown curls. ‘Lando, why are you on the floor?’
His reply comes from somewhere around my knees. ‘Sprains can be very debilitating. You could even have a greenstick fracture. Let me check you have full mobility in your joint before you walk on it.’
He sounds a lot like Nemmie when she and Zara are playing ‘Operation Ouch’, but sometimes the quickest way out is to play along.
‘It’s my left one.’
He grasps my foot firmly, and wiggles it around, and I breathe in sharply as I feel a twinge.
‘Did that hurt?’
I wriggle my toes. ‘Hardly at all.’
He stares up at me. ‘Shall I get the shop first aider to bandage it for you?’
‘Absolutely not.’ I let my shout subside. ‘I’ll lean on Tia and hop to the car.’
He looks up at the sky. ‘Like I’d let that happen.’
A moment later one of his hands slides around my waist, the other slips under my knees, and the next thing I know my feet are sailing through the air and I’m lying back in his arms.
‘What the actual eff, Lando?’
He ignores my protests and is striding back towards the shop when there’s a cry from Tia. ‘Hey, wait up by the lobelia! Our bride of the summer in her groom’s arms at last; I can’t waste that!’
After that she stops us at every significant junction and photo opportunity, so it takes an equally significant time to reach the car.
I wish I could say I hated every second, but much to my complete disgust, I gave in.
Rammed against his suit, bundled against his chest, I breathed in his scent and let myself be wowed by his strength.
It was five minutes of my life; it’s never happened before and it’ll never happen again.
If I let myself get entirely carried away in the moment, no one ever needs to know that.
As for how poor Lando kept me up in the air for so long, all I can say is this: if he learns from experience, he’ll know better than to go sweeping me off my feet in future.
One other strange thing: with the kids, we often say that if you take their minds off their ailments, they mysteriously get better.
Well, the same happens to me today. Somewhere between the plant displays and the car park, my injury improves so much that as Lando lowers me by Tia’s Fiat 500, I don’t even feel a twinge.
He sets me down on the tarmac and steps away while I lean my hand on the car wing and call. ‘Hey, look at me! I’m weight-bearing!’
Tia gives an eye roll. ‘At least pretend to hobble or he’ll think you faked the whole thing.’
Then it hits me. ‘We left your pounds with the trolleys in the shop, Lando.’
He shrugs. ‘I’ll take the hit.’
And that is the chasm between us. Our family would already be running back to get them.
I clap my hands. ‘And damn it! For the second time, we left without geraniums!’
Lando pulls a face. ‘I’m good without plants. On reflection, you’re right about restoration projects; Smugglers End is a much better fit for me.’
Result! I’m mentally punching the air, running around the car park doing silent whoops in my head.
I’ve done three laps when I stop to look around and notice Lando’s downcast expression.
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him looking anything but exceptionally pleased with himself.
I can’t think what he’s got to look so sad about here, but I’m shocked to feel a pang in my chest. Maybe he minds about his lost pound coins more than he’s letting on.