young man. It was good to see her being chilled about the effect she was having on the male population.
If she gets used to it from other men, she will get used to it from me too....
The words slid into his head and he busied himself with Georgy again, who was taking another lunge at the enticingly crunchy sand.
Lunch passed enjoyably, and afterwards they resumed their drive, finally reaching the South Downs. An airy walk on the high chalk expanse, with Georgy hoisted high on Anatole’s shoulders, his little fists impaling his hair, laughing heartily, gave them some exercise. They paused at a viewpoint to look out and down over the blue glittering Channel beyond. Lyn tried to make out the coastal geography, hazarding some guesses as to what they were seeing.
‘Do you know this part of England?’ Anatole asked her.
‘It has special memories for me,’ she admitted.
Her gaze went out to the coast, and he saw a faraway look in her face—a look that was taking her back down the years.
‘We came here on holiday once,’ she told him. ‘It was just about the only happy holiday I can remember. We stayed on a caravan park, right on the seashore, and Lindy and I were set loose to head down onto the beach every day. It was wonderful! We were so happy, I remember—so carefree! There were some beautiful houses at the far end of the bay, where the gardens opened right out onto the beach, and Lindy and I used to walk past them all and discuss which one we’d live in when we were grown up and had pots of money and no worries and cares.’
Anatole glanced at her. ‘That sounds like you had a need for escapism,’ he ventured, hoping she might say more.
It was good that she was starting to open up to him—to talk about her own life, herself, and Georgy’s mother, too. He wanted to go on drawing her out. It was a sign that she was really starting to trust him, and he needed her to do that. The changes to her life he was imposing on her were so fundamental he did not want her shying away from them, panicking about what she was agreeing to do—bringing Georgy out to Greece and settling him there. So the more she confided in him, the more that trust would grow.
Lyn gave a little sigh. ‘Yes, I suppose it was escapism, really. I remember that sometimes after that holiday, when things were particularly grim at home, I used to let myself fantasise that Lindy and I had run away to live in one of those lovely seaside houses on the beach—far away from the stress and strain of coping with Mum and all that went with her...’
‘Was it so difficult when you were growing up?’ he asked, his voice sympathetic.
She made a face. ‘Well, I know many children have it loads, loads worse! But even so...for Lindy and me it was—well, difficult. That word you used fits the description.’ She took a breath. ‘Looking back, I can see that Mum probably suffered from depression. But whether it came from inside her, or whether it was because she couldn’t really make a relationship last, I don’t know. She’d have downers and take off for the pub, drown her sorrows. It’s why I ended up more or less bringing up Lindy myself.’ Her voice changed. Softened. ‘Not that it wasn’t a joy to do so. Lindy was always so sweet, so loving! And she had an infectious sense of humour—she could always set me laughing to cheer me up.’
Anatole saw a reminiscent smile cross her expression. ‘What is it?’ he probed. He let his gaze dwell on how, when she smiled, it lifted her features, lighting up her clear eyes and curving her tender mouth to show pearl-like teeth.
How could I ever have thought her unremarkable? If her sister had half her appeal Marcos must have been lost!
But, much as he might want to indulge himself in gazing at how her lovely smile enhanced the beauty that her makeover had revealed to him, he focused on her answer.
‘The caravan park we stayed at was in a place called the Witterings,’ Lyn explained. ‘It’s a
If she gets used to it from other men, she will get used to it from me too....
The words slid into his head and he busied himself with Georgy again, who was taking another lunge at the enticingly crunchy sand.
Lunch passed enjoyably, and afterwards they resumed their drive, finally reaching the South Downs. An airy walk on the high chalk expanse, with Georgy hoisted high on Anatole’s shoulders, his little fists impaling his hair, laughing heartily, gave them some exercise. They paused at a viewpoint to look out and down over the blue glittering Channel beyond. Lyn tried to make out the coastal geography, hazarding some guesses as to what they were seeing.
‘Do you know this part of England?’ Anatole asked her.
‘It has special memories for me,’ she admitted.
Her gaze went out to the coast, and he saw a faraway look in her face—a look that was taking her back down the years.
‘We came here on holiday once,’ she told him. ‘It was just about the only happy holiday I can remember. We stayed on a caravan park, right on the seashore, and Lindy and I were set loose to head down onto the beach every day. It was wonderful! We were so happy, I remember—so carefree! There were some beautiful houses at the far end of the bay, where the gardens opened right out onto the beach, and Lindy and I used to walk past them all and discuss which one we’d live in when we were grown up and had pots of money and no worries and cares.’
Anatole glanced at her. ‘That sounds like you had a need for escapism,’ he ventured, hoping she might say more.
It was good that she was starting to open up to him—to talk about her own life, herself, and Georgy’s mother, too. He wanted to go on drawing her out. It was a sign that she was really starting to trust him, and he needed her to do that. The changes to her life he was imposing on her were so fundamental he did not want her shying away from them, panicking about what she was agreeing to do—bringing Georgy out to Greece and settling him there. So the more she confided in him, the more that trust would grow.
Lyn gave a little sigh. ‘Yes, I suppose it was escapism, really. I remember that sometimes after that holiday, when things were particularly grim at home, I used to let myself fantasise that Lindy and I had run away to live in one of those lovely seaside houses on the beach—far away from the stress and strain of coping with Mum and all that went with her...’
‘Was it so difficult when you were growing up?’ he asked, his voice sympathetic.
She made a face. ‘Well, I know many children have it loads, loads worse! But even so...for Lindy and me it was—well, difficult. That word you used fits the description.’ She took a breath. ‘Looking back, I can see that Mum probably suffered from depression. But whether it came from inside her, or whether it was because she couldn’t really make a relationship last, I don’t know. She’d have downers and take off for the pub, drown her sorrows. It’s why I ended up more or less bringing up Lindy myself.’ Her voice changed. Softened. ‘Not that it wasn’t a joy to do so. Lindy was always so sweet, so loving! And she had an infectious sense of humour—she could always set me laughing to cheer me up.’
Anatole saw a reminiscent smile cross her expression. ‘What is it?’ he probed. He let his gaze dwell on how, when she smiled, it lifted her features, lighting up her clear eyes and curving her tender mouth to show pearl-like teeth.
How could I ever have thought her unremarkable? If her sister had half her appeal Marcos must have been lost!
But, much as he might want to indulge himself in gazing at how her lovely smile enhanced the beauty that her makeover had revealed to him, he focused on her answer.
‘The caravan park we stayed at was in a place called the Witterings,’ Lyn explained. ‘It’s a
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