Page 26 of A Midlife Marriage

Slowly, Caro eased back in her seat. She was aware that behind, Emir hadn’t moved. She heard a rustling sound, aretrieval of headphones? And then Emir had straightened up and was leaning toward her. ‘Why don’t you come and join me in first class?’

‘With pleasure,’ she said, gathering her bag and following him along the aisle without a second glance back.

‘If the conductor comes along,I’ll pay the difference.’ Emir indicated the empty seat across the table from his own. ‘Please, there’s been no-one there the whole journey.’

‘Thank you, but if an inspector comes along,I’llpay the difference,’ Caro said. The seat she took was a third wider than the one she had come from, and the carriage was blissfully quiet, still the setting was nowhere near as salubrious as the last time she had sat across a table from Emir. Then, he had also offered to pay, and she had had no problem accepting. She had been with Matt, in a Michelin-starred restaurant, with a W1 postcode, celebrating the fact that Emir’s investment had quadrupled. The wine had cost more than her train ticket; but it had been appropriate and expected, that they accept his hospitality. This was different. It was bad enough that he’d stumbled across her like this, in a standard carriage. He might actually be thinking that she couldn’t afford anything else. ‘That will teach me to book my own tickets.’ She waved her hand, attempting to laugh off her embarrassment. She was lucky there wasn’t a third class. So committed was Tomasz to their budget she had no doubt he would have booked that.

Emir nodded. Whatever he thought, he was keeping it to himself. ‘You look well,’ he said. ‘Sun-kissed.’

Caro smiled.

‘I heard the offering was a resounding success. Forty million and counting? Outstanding, Caro.’ He shook his head. ‘Matt’sgoing to be lost without you. Oh, and congratulations by the way. He said you were getting married.’

‘I am. And thank you.’

‘He also said you were buying a farm?’

‘Smallholding,’ she corrected. ‘And we’re doing a trial run first.’

‘Very sensible. Do you have chickens?’

‘Lots.’

‘Pigs?’

‘No, but goats and cabbages and loads of courgettes!’

Tipping his head back, Emir laughed. ‘I don’t know an awful lot about growing my own vegetables.’

‘Neither did I!’ she said, and leaning forward clasped her hands together, bringing them to rest on the table.

‘Sounds like a lot of work.’ He was looking at her hands.

Mortified, Caro dropped them to her lap. ‘Have you seen Matt lately?’ she said. The way Emir had spoken made it sound as if he had.

Emir nodded. ‘I had a drink with him and a guy called Spencer Cooper a couple of days ago.’ He scratched his chin. ‘If Matt hadn’t told us about you leaving, I think you would have been hearing from Mr Cooper.’

‘Really?’ Caro dropped her head to the side. Her expression was neutral but inside, her heart pounded.

‘He would have tried to poach you, I’m sure of it. As it is, Matt is panicking, about replacing you.’

‘But Matt told him?’

Emir frowned. ‘Told him what?’

‘That I’m getting married … So, I wouldn’t be interested anyway … If he was serious. I mean … about poaching me.’ Under the table she pressed her hands together.

‘I think he did. It’s not confidential, is it?’

‘No! Goodness no!’ Caro waved her hand. Blood rushing to her cheeks, she turned to the window. Spencer Cooper had heard this news, and he had still sent that text. Watching field after field blur past, her thoughts kept pace. It was presumptuous of him. And confident. And arrogant. And sexy. And, after all, she had said: ‘I would have loved to.’

‘So, no chance of a change of mind?’

‘No.’ Turning back to Emir, her laugh was too quick. ‘The smallholding is a trial but it’s going well.’

‘That’s good.’

‘I’m really enjoying it actually.’

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