Chloe by Freya North Page B

we’d still be at it now! (Who knows, by the time you’re reading this, maybe we are, once again!) After we beat a hasty retreat and the fire in our loins had subsided
– what has the girl been reading?’
    â€˜I rather like that – fire in the loins!’
    â€˜You would, you incorrigible old codger. I think it’s downright Mills & Boon. Where were we? Fire in loins – ah yes: ‘
had subsided, we sat on a bench and, while I’d love to tell you of the view out over the dingle, I really can’t – I didn’t even get a glimpse. Mostly I kept my eyes tight shut so I could just feel and taste Carl, soak it all up. Savour the moment. Remember it for eternity. Occasionally, I opened them a peep and caught the dip of his cheek or a snatch of his ear lobe, or a glint of his eye.
    â€˜
I’m not falling in love or whatever, I don’t think, –
oh yes she is!
– it just feels so, I don’t know, fresh? Fun? That’s it – fun. Just what the doctor ordered after those gloomy, sterile Brett years. Strange how, at the time I thought them neither gloomy nor sterile, yet nor was I having fun and feeling adored – as I am now. Having traded boys for horses during my teenage years and enduring only Brett since then, it now feels so liberating. Finally I can snog and grope and do all those other fun, naughty, wholesome things!
    â€˜
Believe me when I tell you his eyelashes are like pitchforks! Pitchforks, I declare! Oh, the beauty of the boy! Adonis is a Kiwi called Carl – and happiness is a gal called Cadwallader. Trust me, you two! I’ll keep you posted. With love and passion
, bla bla bla.’
    They sat in silence for a while. Chloë was miles away, a different country indeed. There she was having the time of her life. Here they were, Jasper and Peregrine, feeling the winter in their joints, sitting in silence in Jocelyn’s house. And yet
silence
in Jocelyn’s house was surely anathema.
    â€˜Well?’ said Jasper. ‘What do we think?’
    â€˜
I
don’t know
what
to think!’ answered Peregrine.
    â€˜Well,’ continued Jasper methodically, ‘the girl is safe, cosy and having fun. She sounds happy, animated – like when she was a youngster. Now, what would Jocelyn say, do you think? What would be her view? What would she think? And, ought we to go by it?’
    They sat quiet a moment longer, Jasper running the envelope through his fingers, Peregrine tapping the pages of the letter against his chin.
    â€˜Jocelyn,’ said Peregrine mistily, ‘dear darling Jo Jo. She, I’m sure, would be delighted. She may not approve of the sentences beginning with “and”, nor, perhaps, of the very public site of this first clinch; but she, more than anyone, wished entirely for Chloë’s happiness.’
    â€˜Remember how she loathed Brett?’ reminisced Jasper. ‘How she longed for Chloë to find the elation and bliss that she had experienced?’
    â€˜Oh so fleetingly.’
    â€˜Just the once.’
    â€˜So long ago,’ rued Peregrine. They sat in silence save for a sigh apiece.
    â€˜Hush now, we’re becoming maudlin,’ said Jasper tapping Peregrine’s knee. ‘Jocelyn moved on. So must we. The past is indeed a different country, in which one no longer has a home.’
    â€˜Indeed,’ pondered Peregrine.
    â€˜Alas,’ concluded Jasper.
    â€˜Come now! Back to matter in hand – our Clodders swept into the clutches of lust! I know damn well what Jocelyn would think – after all, was it not she who placed map and wherewithal into Chloë’s fair hands?’
    Jasper raised his eyebrows high, a lascivious twinkle to his eye. Peregrine kissed him lightly on the cheek and linked arms with him lovingly beneath the tartan blanket.
    â€˜Good Lord,
Jocelyn
!’ exclaimed Jasper, looking up to the eaves and beyond. ‘It
is
you!