moment of passion, not as a passing farewell like before, but quietly, thoughtfully.
And she so, so wanted to believe him, but there was a bit of her that was afraid he was talking himself into it becauseof the baby. Because he wanted to create the image of the perfect family, and that was the first step, the cornerstone.
Maybe he genuinely believed he did love her, but she was too scared to believe it.
Her phone rang, and it was Hazel, the head receptionist, to tell her that her first patient had arrived. Even the thought exhausted her. She’d been busy yesterday, and no doubt today would be the same. She hoped not, because otherwise she’d be too tired by tomorrow to enjoy her long weekend with Ben. But putting it off any longer wouldn’t make it go away.
As she’d expected, the day was hellish, and she fell into bed exhausted at eight o’clock. She heard the phone ring in the sitting room, but she’d forgotten to bring it into her bedroom because she wasn’t on call, and by the time she’d decided she ought to get up, it had stopped ringing.
Oh, well, if it was important they’d ring again, she thought, but whoever it was didn’t. She could dial 1471 and check, she thought, or see if there was a message.
She fell asleep again, then had to get up in the night because the baby was wriggling around on her bladder, and on her way back to bed she checked the answering-machine and found a message from Ben.
Damn. She should have got out of bed and taken the call, and really wished she had. She played the message, sitting in bed with the phone, listening to his voice and wishing she was with him.
She played it again. ‘You aren’t there, or maybe you’re having an early night. It’s not important. I just wanted to talk to you. It seems odd not seeing you two nights running. Take care. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Then a pause, then, ‘Love you.’
She looked at her bedside clock. Two-thirty in the morning—too late, or too early, to ring. Except he was on call—so either he was working or he would be asleep. Either way, she couldn’t really disturb him, and he wouldn’t ring again.
She sent a text to his mobile.
‘Thanks for message. Early night. Looking forward to w/e. Lucy.’ And then, for good measure, ‘X’. She nearly put ‘Love you’ like he had, but it seemed too massively important to risk getting it wrong, and when she did tell him, if she ever did, she wanted to see his face.
Suddenly the afternoon seemed much, much too far away…
Ben didn’t want to be at the auction.
He wasn’t sure if Nick Tremayne would be there, but he didn’t want to risk it. He didn’t know how the man would feel about him buying the house, but frankly he didn’t care. This wasn’t about Nick, it was about Lucy, and if he’d thought enough of the place to hold on to it for several years, then once he and his daughter had sorted out this glitch in their relationship, Ben was sure that keeping the house in the family could only be good for all of them.
But Lucy was his primary concern, and he had so much riding on it he felt sick.
He’d booked the time off, but now he wished he hadn’t. He couldn’t go home and sit there, though, just waiting for the phone to ring, so he drove to the house. Well, almost. He didn’t want to push his luck, tempt fate, whatever. So he sat in the car, just down the lane, and rang his solicitor.
He got his secretary, and asked her to get him to ring as soon as there was any news.
‘I’ll call you on another line,’ she promised, ‘while Simon’s bidding—that way he can talk to you at the same time, give you a chance to decide how you want to play it.’
He felt the tension ratchet up a notch. ‘OK. I’ll keep the phone free,’ he promised, and plugged in the charger. He wasn’t going to lose the house because of something stupid like a flat battery.
There was a woman up on the headland, leaning into the wind, her clothes plastered against her body
And she so, so wanted to believe him, but there was a bit of her that was afraid he was talking himself into it becauseof the baby. Because he wanted to create the image of the perfect family, and that was the first step, the cornerstone.
Maybe he genuinely believed he did love her, but she was too scared to believe it.
Her phone rang, and it was Hazel, the head receptionist, to tell her that her first patient had arrived. Even the thought exhausted her. She’d been busy yesterday, and no doubt today would be the same. She hoped not, because otherwise she’d be too tired by tomorrow to enjoy her long weekend with Ben. But putting it off any longer wouldn’t make it go away.
As she’d expected, the day was hellish, and she fell into bed exhausted at eight o’clock. She heard the phone ring in the sitting room, but she’d forgotten to bring it into her bedroom because she wasn’t on call, and by the time she’d decided she ought to get up, it had stopped ringing.
Oh, well, if it was important they’d ring again, she thought, but whoever it was didn’t. She could dial 1471 and check, she thought, or see if there was a message.
She fell asleep again, then had to get up in the night because the baby was wriggling around on her bladder, and on her way back to bed she checked the answering-machine and found a message from Ben.
Damn. She should have got out of bed and taken the call, and really wished she had. She played the message, sitting in bed with the phone, listening to his voice and wishing she was with him.
She played it again. ‘You aren’t there, or maybe you’re having an early night. It’s not important. I just wanted to talk to you. It seems odd not seeing you two nights running. Take care. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Then a pause, then, ‘Love you.’
She looked at her bedside clock. Two-thirty in the morning—too late, or too early, to ring. Except he was on call—so either he was working or he would be asleep. Either way, she couldn’t really disturb him, and he wouldn’t ring again.
She sent a text to his mobile.
‘Thanks for message. Early night. Looking forward to w/e. Lucy.’ And then, for good measure, ‘X’. She nearly put ‘Love you’ like he had, but it seemed too massively important to risk getting it wrong, and when she did tell him, if she ever did, she wanted to see his face.
Suddenly the afternoon seemed much, much too far away…
Ben didn’t want to be at the auction.
He wasn’t sure if Nick Tremayne would be there, but he didn’t want to risk it. He didn’t know how the man would feel about him buying the house, but frankly he didn’t care. This wasn’t about Nick, it was about Lucy, and if he’d thought enough of the place to hold on to it for several years, then once he and his daughter had sorted out this glitch in their relationship, Ben was sure that keeping the house in the family could only be good for all of them.
But Lucy was his primary concern, and he had so much riding on it he felt sick.
He’d booked the time off, but now he wished he hadn’t. He couldn’t go home and sit there, though, just waiting for the phone to ring, so he drove to the house. Well, almost. He didn’t want to push his luck, tempt fate, whatever. So he sat in the car, just down the lane, and rang his solicitor.
He got his secretary, and asked her to get him to ring as soon as there was any news.
‘I’ll call you on another line,’ she promised, ‘while Simon’s bidding—that way he can talk to you at the same time, give you a chance to decide how you want to play it.’
He felt the tension ratchet up a notch. ‘OK. I’ll keep the phone free,’ he promised, and plugged in the charger. He wasn’t going to lose the house because of something stupid like a flat battery.
There was a woman up on the headland, leaning into the wind, her clothes plastered against her body
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