Page 31 of Starting Over at Halesmere House
‘Because?’
‘Because it’s not an eight.’ She liked this new game; she was getting better at it, enjoying the smile lingering on his lips, the amusement in those deep brown eyes.
‘So how do I get an eight? Better cake?’
‘Maybe. That and not cycling on a date.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t take you cycling. Not if we were going on a real date.’
‘Oh?’ Her pulse flared some more. ‘What would you suggest instead?’
‘I’m not telling you.’ Zac shrugged. ‘If I’m only a seven and a half, you’re not finding out how I’d do better.’
‘Then you can’t improve your score.’
‘Not without going on a real date.’ The implication was obvious, and she held her breath. ‘But we don’t do that, you and me. Date people.’
She was wondering again why not, thinking of Neil telling her that Zac’s fiancée had left him for someone else. ‘You do everything so quickly.’ She’d noticed that about him, reminded again now the brownie was gone. Eating, moving, driving: he did it all with haste.
‘I can promise you I don’t.’ That lazy smile was back and her own was following as the teasing returned. ‘So what would you have us do for a date?’
‘You surely don’t expect me to answer that after you refused?’ Alice finished the Bakewell slice, pushing her plate away to linger over the latte. ‘So I have passed the test, then? You’d come out with me on the bike again, even though I slowed you down and moaned?’
‘You weren’t that bad. And I’ll make sure to include different cake next time.’
Chapter Ten
A family were passing their table and Alice noticed a child, an adorable little boy, toddling along with a toy dinosaur in his hand. She dropped her eyes, relieved that Zac had agreed to cycle with her again. Her own resolve to train might fade on the worst days and she was certain he’d push her when she wasn’t sure yet how far she could push herself.
‘If you’re going to help me, Zac, then maybe you should know why I’m doing this,’ she said quietly. She was aware of the family settling at a table further down and she brought her gaze back to him. ‘I need to set up a fundraising page anyway to make sure entering the triathlon is worth it. You probably heard Kelly say that I’m doing it for a pregnancy charity who fund research and offer advice and support for those who need it, when things sometimes go wrong. I was one of them.’
‘Alice…’
‘No, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. Please just let me get it out there.’ She tried to smile as she took a deep breath. ‘I’ve been avoiding speaking about the triathlon because even though I want to do it, once people know, then my reason and therefore my own experience seems obvious. As though losing my baby is stamped on my forehead for everyone to see. But then I think of the difference more donations could make. I know mine won’t be huge, but it’ll be something, and I have to do it. I just can’t not.’
Alice wasn’t expecting his hand to cover hers on the table and she had to blink before carrying on. ‘My pregnancy was a bit of an against-all-the-odds one after years of trying, until IVF worked on the final round. Last Saturday, when you found me that night, was the first anniversary of my due date and I couldn’t help thinking of what might have been. Of course it doesn’t mean that my circumstances are worse than anyone else’s who has gone through a similar experience. But I have to do something, to acknowledge what the charity did for me and help those who’ll come after me. My colleague Ray organised the bike after I mentioned the triathlon and I’m glad he did. I’m not very brave and I’d probably have kept putting it off to keep my secret safe.’
‘Not brave?’ Zac leaned forward, lowering his voice. ‘How can you think that what you’ve achieved after everything you’ve been through isn’t brave, Alice? Starting another business, creating a new home.’ He swallowed. ‘It’s amazing, you have no idea. You’re here, going to work each day, making friends, plans to support those who looked after you, caring for people. I think we could all be more Alice.’
‘That’s very kind.’ A tear escaped to trail down her cheek. She hadn’t got a tissue; their plates had been cleared and even the napkin had gone. She didn’t want him to witness any more tears; there had been quite enough of those on Saturday night.
He removed his hand from hers, his fingers light under her chin to lift it gently. She held her breath as his thumb caught the tear before it landed on her lips, smoothing away her distress. She turned her face, letting him cup her cheek. She hadn’t wanted anyone to hold her for months lest she shatter, and she resisted the temptation to place a kiss to his palm.
‘I’m looking forward to shoving you and that bike up those hills you love so much.’ There was a lightness in his tone, and Alice sensed he wasn’t brushing past her confession, just easing them through it. ‘I can’t promise you cake every time, though.’
‘Shame. This has been nice.’ Better than that.
‘Even though it was the wrong cake?’
‘Even though it was the wrong cake.’
Staff were hovering, obviously ready to close up the café for the day. Zac slowly withdrew his hand, and they stood up, collecting the rucksacks at their feet. Even walking next to him was exhilarating. It was like having a panther at her side: unpredictable, lithe, beautiful; he was as different from her ex-husband as it was possible to be. Maybe that’s why she was enjoying spending time with Zac so much.
‘So can I really trust you to look after me?’ It was a nonchalant, almost rhetorical question. He was the first new person she’d trusted since the end of her marriage, and a couple of weeks ago she’d have dismissed the notion as ridiculous. ‘I do have a garden and a meadow to manage, and courses to run. I can’t be sitting around in plaster with a broken arm.’
Alice liked how he’d teased his way through their ride, making her laugh and keeping her going when she’d rather have got off and pushed, or stopped altogether. She needed to be a whole lot fitter than this for the triathlon and summer would come soon enough. They’d reached the van and Zac unlocked it.
‘You won’t be. But luckily, I know the difference between a weed and a perennial so what’s a few more hours’ work if you need me to help out? Not sure about the courses, though; my idea of flower-arranging is ordering online and having something delivered.’
