The Secret Sinclair by Cathy Williams Page B

seen the obvious—which was that there would be no single life for her while they were trying to sort out things with Oliver. It was disconcerting to think that she mighthave been biding her time, filling her head with thoughts of climbing back on the dating bandwagon when she was still attracted to
him
. He had
felt
it.
    ‘Oliver’s looking tired. I think we should have something to eat now,’ he said coolly, turning abruptly in the direction of where the car had been parked.
    ‘In fact,’ Sarah continued, because this seemed as good a time as any to start talking about where they went from here, ‘I think we need to have a little chat later.’
    They had eased themselves out of the crowds now, and Raoul gently deposited Oliver on the ground. He had managed to win a stuffed toy at one of the stalls, and its furry head poked out from the top of his backpack. Insistent on having ‘just one more ride’, his attention was easily diverted at the promise of the chocolate cake which Raoul told him was waiting in the wicker basket.
    ‘There’s a lot to discuss now that the house has been bought. We have to talk about arrangements. I want to get my life in order and really start living it.’
    ‘“Really start living it”?’ Raoul’s voice had become several shades cooler, and he kept it low because even though Oliver had yanked the stuffed panda out of his backpack and was currently engaged in conversation with it, he was fully aware that careless words could be picked up.
    ‘Well, you have to admit that we’ve both been in a kind of hiatus over the past few weeks, and I suppose that might have led you to assume … well, the past few weeks have been peculiar …’ Sarah took a deep breath. ‘I bet you haven’t had this much time off work since you started!’ She gave a bright laugh at his juncture, although Raoul didn’t seem amused. ‘It’s time for us
both
to come back down to reality …’
    They were at the car, and Raoul began hauling stuff out of the boot. Having parked away from the main car park,they found themselves in a private enclosed spot, with shady overhanging trees that seemed designed to indulge prospective picnickers.
    His mood had nosedived, although he was at pains not to let Oliver have any inkling of that. He unpacked a quantity of food sufficient to feed a small army, and stuck the chilled wine in the ice bucket which had thoughtfully been provided.
    Oblivious of the atmosphere, Oliver attacked the picnic with enthusiasm, and awkward silences were papered over with his chatter as he relived every experience of every ride and tried his best to elicit promises of a return visit.
    So she wanted to get back to the land of the living? Why shouldn’t she? She was still young, and already she was changing as the worry eased off her shoulders. When he had bumped into her again she had been cleaning floors, and the stress of her situation had shown plainly on her face. Now the contours were returning to her body, and her features had lost the gaunt look that had originally caught him off guard. Why
wouldn’t
she want to have some kind of fun? Go to clubs? Lead the life most young people her age were leading and which she had had to sidestep because of the responsibility of having to look after a child?
    In every single detail it was a situation that should have suited him perfectly. He had left her once with the best of all possible intentions, and he had never deviated from his resolution to steer clear of the murky waters of matrimony. He was not one of those people who had ever thought that despite coming from no family background to speak of, despite a childhood rife with disillusionment and disappointment, he could somehow turn the tide and become a fully paid up member of the happy-ever-after crew. He had always sworn that the one thing he had taken from his experiences would be his freedom, and although henow had one other person to consider, he certainly wasn’t going to go the whole