Love-40 by Anna Cheska Page A

stars.
    â€˜So I’ve given in my notice,’ he said, when he returned to the bedroom. He ducked under the eaves to deposit his watch on the pine dressing-table. That would shake her. And he wanted to shake her, wake her, make her look at him, for God’s sake.
    â€˜You’ve done what?’ She opened one eye.
    Half a look was better than none, Michael told himself. ‘I’m leaving work,’ he said. ‘Leaving the factory. Leaving Fareham.’
    The other eye opened.
    â€˜In fact I was wondering – what do you reckon about me moving in here?’
    *   *   *
    It was two weeks later that Suzi got home from Secrets to find the narrow hallway of the cottage crammed with amplifiers, guitars and speakers.
    â€˜Are we opening up a music shop?’ she said mildly. The last two weeks had been equally crammed – with guilt and bafflement mostly.
    She had been baffled that Michael had given up his job in Fareham, even more baffled that he was expecting to move in with her.
    In a way, she supposed, picking a route over one of the speakers, she had liked the fact that Michael lived in Fareham, and not Pridehaven, that he wouldn’t encroach on her space or her weekdays, suddenly turn up and expect her to drop everything in order to do what he wanted her to do. It was selfish of her perhaps, but she was used to living alone.
    And then there was the guilt. Guilt that she was too selfish to want him living here, guilt that she hadn’t wanted their relationship to change, that permanence seemed a threat not a comfort. And guilt that she had inadvertently made him feel so unwanted, because when he’d dropped the bombshell and assessed her unguarded initial reaction, he’d looked so sad, she’d promptly taken him in her arms, hugged and hugged as if she could snatch that first horrified reaction away again. Oh, yes, Suzi was good at guilt. Weren’t all women?
    â€˜Of course I want you,’ she had said, wondering if she said it often enough, whether it would happen, whether she would feel it. ‘Stay here for as long as you like.’ Knowing she’d made it sound temporary, knowing that was the only way.
    She was fond of Michael – of course she was. She enjoyed his company, enjoyed going to bed with him, was happy to help him out if she could. And she would even … she climbed over an amplifier, give his musical equipment a home. Though it was telling, wasn’t it, that of all his possessions, there were more guitars, amps and speakers than all the rest put together.
    But how the heck, she couldn’t help wondering, had Michael ever come to the conclusion that she’d want to share her home with him? It was hardly a spur of the moment decision for any couple. In fact right now, to Suzi, it felt life-threatening more than anything else. How would she cope? What had she let herself in for? And more to the point – for how long was Michael thinking of staying?

Chapter 8
    Michael wandered into the garden of the riverbank cottage and surveyed the lawn dispiritedly. In theory this was now his home, a home shared with Suzi. Only it didn’t seem that way somehow. And how come goats were so stupid? Hester always walked to the full length of her leash before she started eating, sidestepped and ate, sidestepped and ate, oblivious of the greener grass close to her tethering post. The result? A crop circle.
    But then … He moved closer and stroked Hester’s white head. Who could blame the poor creature – never taken out like the dogs, not free to explore her territory like the cats. Even Suzi’s flock of chickens had more freedom.
    Hester stopped munching for a second to look up at him soulfully.
    â€˜I understand,’ Michael told her, glancing rapidly behind him to make sure Suzi wasn’t watching him out of the kitchen window. ‘And just to prove it – I’ll take you out.’
    He went