Читать книгу The Last Woman He'd Ever Date - Liz Fielding - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

‘DID you have a good look round?’ Claire asked, as he stepped down into the kitchen.

‘I thought I’d better give you time to make yourself respectable,’ he said, not bothering to deny it. ‘It’s all changed up there.’

It had changed everywhere.

Colour had begun to seep back into her cheeks and she raised a wry smile. ‘Are you telling me that the young Hal North wasn’t into “Forest Fairies”?’

‘It wouldn’t have mattered if I was,’ he said. ‘This house wasn’t on the estate-maintenance rota and nothing would have persuaded Jack North to waste good drinking money on wallpaper.’

‘I thought the cabbage roses in the front bedroom looked a bit pre-war,’ she said. ‘Not that I’m complaining. It was so old that it came off as easy as peeling a Christmas Satsuma.’

‘You did it yourself?’

‘That’s what DIY stands for,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t afford to pay someone to do it for me.’

‘I didn’t mean to sound patronising—’

She tutted. ‘You missed. By a mile.’

‘—but it’s your landlord’s job to keep the place in good repair.’

‘Really? It didn’t seem to work for your mother. In her shoes I’d have bought a few cans of paint and had a go myself.’

‘She wouldn’t…’

Hal’s eyes were dark blue, she realised, with a fan of lines around them just waiting for him to smile. That bitten off “wouldn’t,” the snapping shut of his jaws, the hard line of his mouth, suggested that it wasn’t going to happen if she gave way to her curiosity and asked him why a fit, handsome woman would choose to live like that.

‘Sir Robert would only let me have the cottage on a repairing lease.’

‘Cheapskate.’

‘There was no money for renovations,’ she said, leaping to his defence.

‘So he got you to do it for him.’

‘I had nowhere to live. He was doing me a favour.’

The cleaning, decorating, making a home for herself and Ally had kept her focussed, given her a purpose in those early months when her life had changed out of all recognition. No university, no job, no family. Just her and a new baby.

Cleaning, stripping, painting, making a home for them both had helped to keep the fear at bay.

‘We both got a good deal, Hal. If the cottage had been fixed up, I couldn’t have afforded the rent. He did get the materials for me at trade,’ she said, ‘and he replaced the broken glass and gutters himself.’

‘Why am I not surprised?’

‘I don’t know,’ she asked. ‘Why aren’t you?’

He shook his head. ‘Are you ticklish?’

‘What? No… What are you doing?’ she demanded, confused by the sudden change in subject.

He didn’t bother to answer but got down on one knee, soaped up his hands and picked up her foot.

She drew in a sharp breath as he smoothed his hand over her heel. ‘Does that hurt?’

‘It stings a bit.’

She lied.

With his fingers sliding over the arch of her foot, around her ankle, she was feeling no pain.

‘Ally has started moaning about the wallpaper in her room,’ she said, doing a swift subject change on her own account in a vain attempt to distract herself from the shimmer of pleasure rippling through her, an almost forgotten touch-me heaviness in her breasts, melting heat between her legs.

‘Ally?’

‘Alice Louise,’ she said. ‘After her grandmother.’

‘Oh, right,’ he said, and she knew he’d seen the photographs, put his own interpretation on her daughter’s name.

‘Apparently she’s grown out of the fairy stage. It’s hard to believe that she’ll soon be eight.’

‘Is eight too big for fairies?’

‘Sadly.’

‘So, what comes next?’ She was mesmerised by the sight, the feel of his long fingers as they carefully teased the grit from between her toes. They were covered with small scars, the kind you got from knocks, scrapes, contact with hot metal. A mechanic’s hands… ‘Ballet?’ he asked, looking up, catching her staring. ‘Horses?’

‘Not ballet,’ she said quickly. ‘She loves horses, but I can’t afford to indulge her. To be honest, I don’t care what she chooses, just as long as there is a stage between now and boys. They grow up so quickly these days.’

‘They always did, Claire.’

‘Did they? I must have missed that stage. Too much homework, I suppose.’ And not enough freedom to hang around the village, giggling with the other girls, dressed to attract the boys. Not that they’d have welcomed her. The girls, anyway. She’d received sideways looks from the boys, but no one had been brave enough to make a move… ‘The local girls my age seemed so much more grown up.’ So much more knowing.

‘You appear to have caught up.’

She shook her head. ‘You never get that back.’ She’d still been hopelessly naïve at eighteen, believing sex and love were the same thing. Not wanting to think about that, she said, ‘I’m taking Ally to the DIY store at the weekend to look around, see what catches her eye.’

‘Shouldn’t you wait and see what the new owner has in mind before you part with more hard cash on a house you don’t own?’

‘A few rolls of wallpaper won’t break the bank.’ And decorating would keep her mind off it. ‘When he sees what a great tenant I am,’ she added, ‘he’ll probably beg me to stay.’

He didn’t comment, but instead turned another chair to face her, covered it with a towel and rested her dripping foot on it.

‘Shouldn’t you be at work?’ she asked, as he tipped the dirty water down the sink and rinsed the bowl before refilling it with clean water to which he added antiseptic. Anything to stop thinking about the way his hands had felt on her foot, her ankle. How good it felt to be cared for.

The big hole that was missing not just from Ally’s life, but her own.