Page 23 of One Summer Weekend
‘But we can’t,’ I said firmly, with a warning lookin his direction.
‘Next time, then,’ Midge said. ‘Especially now that Jack’s remembered his way here.’
Bill chuckled. ‘What she means, Alicia, is that he hasn’t been to see us for a while. I’ve a feeling that we have you to thank for this visit.’
‘True, except that we did have an ulterior motive.’ A coy smile at Jack.
He smiled back, but cautiously. ‘We did?’
‘Yes.’I paused. Served him right if he thought I was going to confess about the coaching and abandon the role play. ‘You thought staying with Bill and Midge would make my first trip to the Lake District a success, whatever the weather – remember?’
Our eyes met. Perhaps he detected the triumph in mine, because he lifted his arm from the back of my chair and casually ran his fingertip across thebare skin of my neck. Unexpected, and totally unnecessary. I flinched, then tried to cover up with, ‘Don’t – you know how ticklish I am.’
His finger moved instantly from my neck, only to resurface at the small of my back where my T-shirt had pulled away from my jeans. I nearly jumped out of my chair. ‘I certainly do,’ he said, blandly.
‘Och, leave the poor girl alone,’ Midge said.‘You’ve plenty of time for that later.’
I leaned back in my chair, slamming his hand against the wrought iron.
‘I’m feeling well and truly crushed,’ he said, in that black-velvet voice. ‘But I’m sure it won’t last.’
Midge handed round some olives. ‘Jack told us you were from the south, Alicia – whereabouts?’
‘Hampshire. I still live there – a little place called Helsingham,just off the M3.’
‘But you met Jack up north – was it something to do with work? He was a wee bit vague about that part on the phone.’
‘Hardly surprising.’ A glance of malicious sweetness at Jack. ‘We met at the ballet.’
‘The ballet?’ Bill looked as though he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or alarmed.
‘Yes, I was in Manchester to see a client, and managed to get a ticketforLes Sylphides. Jack was sitting next to me, we got talking and – well, the rest is history, as they say.’
‘Not quite,’ Jack said, extricating his hand at last – only to rest it on my knee, rather too heavily. ‘You missed out the bit where you tried to squeeze past me without waking me up. You got stuck in a very interesting position – far more entertaining than the ballet, actually.’
They all laughed, and I forced myself to join in.
‘I’d have fallen asleep, too,’ Bill said. ‘What possessed you to go in the first place?’
‘We can’t even get you to the theatre in Keswick,’ Midge put in. Then, turning to me, ‘It’s in a beautiful setting right on the lake, well worth a visit – maybe the next time you’re up?’
‘Of course.’ I suppressed a twinge of guilt; littledid she realise that this ‘relationship’ was heading for the rocks as soon as the weekend was over.
She beamed at me. ‘Good. As soon as you let me know a date, I’ll book us in – we can leave these two philistines in the pub for the evening. But Jack –youat the ballet? Was this some sort of Billy Elliot moment?’
‘Not exactly – the Northern Ballet approached Leo Components for sponsorshipand gave me complimentary tickets, so I agreed to go along. In the end, I couldn’t persuade the Board to go ahead with the sponsorship – but otherwise it turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.’ His eyes sought mine, their expression unbelievably adoring, while I made a mental note of how easily he could conjure up a plausible story.
I held his gaze just long enough toappear equally besotted, before saying, ‘Luckily for me, you were on your own that night. And for once we didn’t bump into any of your exes.’
A grunt from Midge. ‘I can’t imagine Karina going anywhere just to be in the audience, she’s more of a centre-stage person.’
Oh, not Karina again.I glanced across at Jack, barely concealing my resentment.It’s always abouther– as though noone else exists. What about all the others?
‘Karina’s the past,’ Jack said, softly. ‘Alicia’s my future.’ And, before I could snatch it away, he reached for my hand and lifted it to his lips.
As a kiss, it was nothing – a little charade hardly worthy of my reaction – yet at the same time it was everything. A breach in the many-layered wall I’d built round me since Troy. A threat tothe control with which I lived my life. And something even more worrying – because part of me didn’t want to snatch my hand away at all.
When at last he lowered my hand from his lips, he kept it curled within his. In the still of the evening, my pulse raced. It might only be role play, but the effects were unnervingly real.
