reaction to the thought of Willow with his baby in her arms was so utterly overwhelming that he couldn’t answer. Instead he retreated to the kitchen and spent what was left of the afternoon installing the shelves and thinking about what Willow had said. Trying to think of some way that they could both have what they wanted and still be together. Wondering how she felt about having a baby. She’d need a year or two to establish herself first.
He could wait.
The hell he could.
‘THE shelves look wonderful, Mike.’ Willow dropped the glossy carriers containing her new clothes and crossed to have a closer look. ‘Are they finished?’
‘They just need painting. I’ll do it tomorrow when you’re in London.’
She looked around. ‘Where is everyone? I expected the place to be buzzing by now.’
‘Jake Hallam had a date.’ It was probably true. ‘And I’ve a feeling that Emily might just be putting people off so we can be alone. I feel guilty about that, she looked exhausted.’ Definitely true. ‘So I gave her a bar of your favourite chocolate and sent her home to put her feet up.’ He grinned at her expression. ‘Don’t worry, there’s another one in the fridge. You’ve been an age. Did you find an outfit to impress your new boss?’
‘That was the easy bit. Then I needed shoes, and a bag and underwear—’
‘Underwear? I thought you’d already got the job—’ He backed off hurriedly as she advanced on him. ‘Hey, I was just kidding!’ She kept coming. ‘Really! The first thing I do when I get a new suit is hunt down matching boxers…’
Her scowl disintegrated into a giggle that made him want to just grab her and hug her and never let her go. ‘Sarah was terrific; and afterwards Amy made us all a cup of camomile and honey tea. Very soothing. I really like her, Mike. She’s…’ Willow shrugged. ‘I don’t know. There’s just something about her.’
‘Hmm. Are you hungry?’
‘Not desperately. A glass of cold white wine would be good, though.’ She opened the fridge door, took out a bottle of perfectly chilled wine and handed it to him. Then she snapped off two squares of cold chocolate. She handed one to Mike and let the other dissolve on her tongue. ‘Heaven,’ she said.
‘That was supposed to be after dinner chocolate.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I’ll have some more after dinner,’ she assured him, gathering her bags and heading for the stairs. ‘Why don’t you open the wine while I go and hang this over a door. We can sit outside and drink it and watch the stars come out.’
‘And light Amy’s candles?’
Candles glimmering in the twilight were the stuff of romance, Willow thought, when what they needed was light, a hundred and fifty watts of it, bright enough to illuminate every corner of their relationship. She paused, her hand on the door latch.
‘You don’t really believe there’s going to be a power cut, do you?’ she asked, evading the question. She yearned for the candles.
‘No chance. It’s summer, light half the night and warm enough to sleep outside. Power cuts come in the middle of the winter when there’s snow on the ground, it’s pitch dark for fifteen hours out of twenty-four and all you want is non-stop soup and hot-water bottles.’
‘Of course. She must have made a mistake.’
Mike heard the catch of disappointment in Willow’s voice as she turned away, and listened to what it was telling him.
And he thought about what Amy had actually said when she’d given them the candles—‘you’ll need them’—that was all. They’d instantly assumed she’d meant a power cut, when what she’d meant was they would need them.
A mistake? ‘Not necessarily, sweetheart,’ he murmured, as Willow headed upstairs. ‘Not necessarily.’
Willow shook out the suit she’d bought for her meeting with Toby Townsend. The skirt was short, the jacket long, the whole effect was city-slicker smart. He couldn’t fail to be impressed.
Which was great.
This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Not a moment for second thoughts. She’d already done the second thoughts bit. Her career was where she wanted it to be. It was the rest of her life that was in turmoil.
She took a shower and was towelling her hair dry at the window, hoping that the gold edged wisps of cloud might inspire her. But life wasn’t like that. If you let life just happen, depended on dreams, you might end up with nightmares.
Planning was what made dreams come true.
Well, she had a plan. It wasn’t perfect, but maybe Mike would be prepared to give it a chance. She combed through her hair and headed downstairs.
The kitchen was empty. The wine had gone. ‘Mike?’
Nothing.
She opened the fridge. The food had gone, too. Even the chocolate. A very grown up game of hide and seek? Grinning, she took out her phone and tapped in, ‘Where are you, Mike?’
She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. ‘You can have me if you can find me.’
Promises, promises. ‘No clues?’
‘Follow your nose.’
Nose? Scent? The candles. She looked around but Amy’s gorgeous little black and gold carrier had gone too. She went to the door and stepped out into the gathering twilight. A few yards away she saw a candle sitting on the path. She picked it up, held it to her nose. Rose otto. To soothe negative emotions.
Actually, there was nothing negative about her feelings for Mike. She was very positive that she wanted him. Right now. She looked around and spotted another candle, at the end of the yard, and a third on the path to the old, walled orchard.
She hadn’t been in there, but Emily had pointed it out to her from the window of the cottages. She’d gone on at great length about how they planned to convert it into a safe-play environment for the children, as if afraid that her volunteer, if left in silence for more than a minute, would dissolve into hysterics.
She opened the old door set into the wall and on the slightest breeze she caught the scent of newly crushed grass, and something more, that was like an old and pleasing memory.
‘Am I getting warm?’ she sent.
‘You tell me.’
Oh, yes. She was warm and getting warmer by the second. She picked up another candle. Palmarosa, this time. To alleviate emotional disharmony. She sat on the trunk of a fallen tree, letting the scent develop in her hand. There had been disharmony. A lot of it. Now everything seemed quite clear. The phone beeped again.
‘Well?’
She smiled. He was getting impatient. She liked that.
