Second Thoughts

‘Is it really so grim?’

She sighed and put the blanket down. ‘No. Now I’m sounding like a spoilt brat, and I don’t mean to. It’s just that I know that in company with X million other working women I’ll have to clean the flat and do the washing and wrestle with Tim’s homework and repair his uniform, and it would be nice if, just now and again, it could be different…’

Andrew frowned at her. ‘When did you last get away?’

She blinked. ‘Me? Heavens, I don’t remember. Tim went to his father in July for a week, and I had that fortnight off to be with him in August, but I haven’t been away for years.’ She laughed a little self-consciously. ‘I don’t think I’d know how to relax now if I had the chance.’

Andrew stood up slowly and took his jacket off the back of the chair, shrugging into it thoughtfully.

‘What are you doing this weekend?’

She looked up at him, all six foot three of warm brown eyes and gentle smile, and wondered if he’d gone suddenly deaf.

‘Cleaning the flat, doing the washing ——’

‘What else? Anything you can’t just drop?’

She tipped her head on one side and her brows twitched together in a little frown. ‘No — not that I can think of. Why?’

He hesitated, then seemed to make up his mind. ‘How do you fancy being pampered?’

She felt her jaw drop slightly. ‘What?’

‘I wondered if you’d like to come out to the cottage for the weekend.’

It was totally unexpected, and Jennifer floundered. Oh, sure, they’d had the odd drink together after work, but the weekend? ‘Um — I don’t think — I mean, Tim ——’

Andrew flushed slightly. ‘I don’t want you to misconstrue my invitation. I just thought you and Tim might benefit from a weekend in the country, but if you’d rather not please say so. I don’t want to embarrass you.’

She looked away, suddenly feeling foolish. Of course he wasn’t suggesting a weekend of unbridled sex. Heavens, the very idea! If there was one thing Andrew Barrett wasn’t, it was a ladies’ man. He was also painfully honest, with himself and everybody else. If he had meant to seduce her, he would have made it perfectly clear. As it was, he had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t. And anyway, they would have Tim as a chaperon. Not quite sure if the flicker of something she felt was disappointment or relief, she looked back at him.

He was packing up the things on his desk, tidying everything neatly away.

‘Andrew?’

He glanced up.

‘I — that would be lovely, but I really do have to the washing ——’

‘Bring it with you. What time would you like me to pick you up?’

She blinked. ‘Bring it?’

‘Bring it. What time? Seven?

She shook her head dazedly. ‘Seven?’ She glanced at her watch. Quarter to six. She would just have time to collect Tim and pack a bag. ‘Yes, that would be fine — thanks. Are you sure — ?’

‘Quite sure.’ His smile was warmly reassuring and she relaxed.

‘We’ll be ready.’

The four-wheel-drive off-roader suited him, Jennifer decided. Big, rugged and capable, devoid of frills but immensely practical.

He loaded their few things and the bag of washing into the back, buckled Tim in safely and held the door for her with quiet courtesy while she climbed up into the front passenger seat. It was quite a step and she was glad she had opted for jeans and not a skirt, although she was sure Andrew wouldn’t even have noticed. She had let her hair down and brushed it out, but the layers looked a little ragged unless she finger-dried it upside down, and there hadn’t been time between collecting Tim from the childminder and Andrew arriving to pick them up. She found time, though, for a quick swipe of lipstick, more for her self-respect than any attempt at glamour. After all, it wasn’t going to be that sort of weekend.

One thing was certain, they were going to eat, if the carrier bags in the back were any indication. He had obviously been shopping since she last saw him, and she had a twinge of guilt that they were causing him a lot of bother — it went with the twinge about ducking out of the housework, and she chewed her lip.

He must have read her mind, because he threw her a teasing grin. ‘Just lie back and relax,’ he instructed firmly. ‘No fretting about the housework. It’ll still be there when you go back.’

She laughed without humour. ‘Isn’t it always?’

‘Without fail — like the weeds. They grow regardless of whether I’ve got time to pull them up.’ He turned and winked at Tim over his shoulder. ‘OK back there?’

Tim nodded.

‘Good. Do you like cats?’

‘Oh, yes — I think so.’

‘Pets aren’t allowed in our flats, so he doesn’t get to see all that many animals,’ Jennifer explained.

‘No? What a shame. I’ve got two cats — I used to have just one but a week ago this other cat turned up and just adopted us. Bit of a problem, really; it seems she’s going to have kittens, and I don’t know if Blu-Tack is going to like it.’

‘Blu-Tack?’

‘Mmm. The other cat. He’s a Russian Blue — beautiful pedigree cat, but he’s only got three legs. He lost the other one in an accident and the owners didn’t want him any more. He’s lived with me for two years, two bachelors together, and now we’ve been invaded.’ He laughed briefly. ‘It’s a little odd.’

She felt suddenly uncomfortable, unsure if he was referring to them or just the pregnant cat. Well, too bad, she thought. He had invited them, and Tim was so excited by the thought of going away for the weekend with her that there was no way she was going to spoil it by being petty. She would just have to make sure they didn’t get in Andrew’s way.

It was nearly half-past seven by the time they arrived, and the last rays of the September sun were gilding the cottage, sparkling on the latticed windows and setting fire to the riot of flowers that flanked the soft pink walls.

‘Oh, Andrew, it’s lovely!’ she exclaimed, enchanted.

He gave a dry chuckle. ‘You’re definitely seeing at its best. In the winter without the roses and the perennials it can look a bit bare, and it’s sometimes a bit draughty inside if the wind gets up. Still, I like it. Here, Tim, take the key and go and open the door for your mother, there’s a good chap.’

He opened the back of the car and picked up four shopping bags, and ushered Jennifer into the cottage. ‘Go and sit down — make yourself at home. I’ll bring the shopping in then make some tea.’

‘I could make the tea ——’

‘No. Sit down.’

‘But ——’

‘No buts. Pampered, you said, and pampered it’s going to be. Sit.’

Overruled, she gave him a tiny smile and surrendered. ‘Yes, sir.’

She followed the wave of his arm and went through into a cosy little sitting-room, heavily beamed and furnished with affection. There was nothing even remotely designerish about it, from the elderly chair covers to the faded velvet curtains and the worn rug in front of the old inglenook fireplace, but it was unbelievably homely.