The End of her Innocence

‘Yes, of course we should, and I want that too,’ Ian said quickly. ‘But not tonight, Clo.’ He gave an awkward laugh. ‘For one thing, the cottage is in a bit of a mess. For another—there’s been barely minimum contact between us for a whole year now. I’ve hardly heard from you, let alone seen you. Being on opposite sides of the country didn’t help, either, and both of us being so busy. And now you turning up out of the blue like this is frankly the last thing I was expecting.’

He added quickly, ‘It isn’t that it’s not wonderful to see you, or that I don’t want you—please believe that. Just that maybe we should take it easy for a while—get to know each other again—before, well, anything …’

His voice tailed off uncomfortably and in the silence that followed, Chloe could hear her heart beating a sudden tattoo—a call to arms. Because the situation was going terribly, disastrously wrong.

Men go off the boil as quick as they go on it … Mrs Thursgood’s words rang ominously in her ears. But that couldn’t be happening—not to them …

She removed her hand, and sat back in her chair. Summoned a smile that would somehow manage to be calm and amused at the same time. And give no hint of her inner turmoil of shocked disbelief.

‘Actually, you may well be right in wanting not to rush things.’ She made herself speak almost casually. ‘Being wise for both of us, no less. And, anyway, taking our time could be much nicer. Even exciting.’

She paused. ‘Besides, you’re clearly up to your ears in work and the new plans for the practice. And I—I have to start looking for another job.

‘As for coffee,’ she added brightly. ‘I think I’d prefer decaf. And when the bill comes, in line with our fresh start, I insist we go Dutch.’

And she stuck to her guns in spite of his obvious reluctance.

Now all I want to do is get out of here, she thought, reaching for her bag, and the blue-and-gold fringed shawl she’d brought instead of a jacket.

But the Fates hadn’t finished with her yet.

As she walked back into the bar, the first person she saw was Darius Maynard at a table by the window, talking with apparent intimacy to a girl she’d never seen before, slim and very attractive in a sleeveless red dress, with blonde hair drawn back from her face into a smooth chignon at the nape of her neck

And it seemed Darius had spotted her in return, she thought, her heart sinking as he rose to his feet, smiling faintly.

‘What a delightful surprise. Lindsay and I have been to the cinema in East Ledwick and we just popped in for a nightcap. Would you care to join us?’

‘It’s a kind thought, but I think I’ll pass, if you don’t mind.’ She had no wish to allow any hint of the edgy state of her relationship to become apparent to those shrewd green eyes, currently assessing the deep slash of her neckline. Or expose it to the scrutiny of some strange blonde either. ‘Stuff to do tomorrow and all that.’

‘But the night is still young,’ he said softly. ‘So, what about you, Cartwright? Surely you can talk your lady round?’

‘On the contrary,’ Ian returned, a little frostily. ‘Once Chloe’s made up her mind, it usually stays that way. And I also have a busy day ahead of me. But thanks again, anyway.’

‘I see that leopards don’t change their spots,’ Chloe commented as they walked to the jeep. ‘Who’s his latest fancy?’

‘Her name’s Lindsay Watson,’ Ian said shortly. ‘And she’s his father’s resident nurse.’

Aunt Libby’s charming girl, thought Chloe and gave a faint whistle. ‘Under the same roof, even,’ she said lightly. ‘How very convenient.’

‘Not necessarily.’ Ian started the engine. ‘He’s not irresistible, you know.’

When they reached the Grange, Chloe turned towards him. ‘I won’t invite you in, but does the fresh start merit a goodnight kiss?’ she asked, her voice teasing. ‘Or do we just shake hands?’

‘Of course I want to kiss you,’ he said with sudden roughness. ‘Any man would. Hell, even Maynard was looking at you as if he could eat you.’

He pulled her into his arms, his mouth heavy and demanding where she’d expected tenderness—even diffidence. This was the moment she’d been dreaming of—longing for—yet she was struggling to respond, the thrust of his tongue between her parted lips feeling almost—alien.

As his hand pushed aside the edge of her dress to close on her bare breast, she tore her mouth free and sat up abruptly, bracing her hands against his chest in negation.

‘Ian—no, please.’ she protested hoarsely.

‘What’s the matter?’ He reached for her again. ‘Isn’t this what you want—what tonight was all about?’

Not like this—never like this …

‘But it has to be what we both want. You must see that.’ She spoke more calmly, moving back from him, straightening her dress with finality. ‘And you—to be honest, I just don’t know any more.’

Because suddenly you ‘re a stranger and I don’t like it. Can’t figure how to deal with it.

There was a silence, then he sighed. ‘God, I’m sorry, Clo. You must think I’m insane. I suppose it’s being without you for so long. So, can we simply forget tonight and start again?’

His face was looking strained, almost guilty, but perhaps it was a trick of the dim light.

She said quietly, ‘That’s a good thought.’

He nodded. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’

‘Fine.’ She paused. ‘Then—goodnight.’

As she walked up the path to the door, she heard the jeep start up and drive away and realised her legs were trembling.

‘You’re back early.’ There was music coming from the sitting room where Uncle Hal was relaxing, his paper open at the crossword. ‘Have a good time?’

‘As always,’ she returned cheerfully, lowering herself into the chair opposite. ‘What are you listening to?’

‘Mozart, of course. A selection of favourite arias, and this is mine starting now.’ He turned up the sound a little. ‘The Countess lamenting her lost happiness from Figaro. “Dove sono I bei momenti”.’

‘Oh, yes, I remember,’ she said slowly. ‘When you took Aunt Libby and me to Glyndebourne for her birthday. It was wonderful.’ And quoted, ‘ “Where are the beautiful moments of pleasure and delight? Where have they flown, those vows made by a deceitful tongue?” ‘

He nodded. ‘A supreme moment of artistry.’

Then the poignant music and the soaring melancholy of the exquisite soprano voice captured them and held them in silence.

The aria was still in Chloe’s head, plangent and heart-wrenching, as she went up to her room.

Maybe not the ideal thing to have listened to in the circumstances, she acknowledged wryly as she got ready for bed.

Yet nothing had really been lost, she thought. They’d just got off to a rocky start, that was all. And somewhere soon, with Ian, she would find that those ‘moments of pleasure and delight’ hadn’t disappeared at all, but were still waiting for her.

It will all be fine, she told herself, turning on her side and closing her eyes. I know it.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘I MET Sir Gregory’s charming nurse last night,’ Chloe remarked, watching her aunt extract a tray of scones from the Aga. ‘She was in the Willowford Arms having a drink.’

Aunt Libby shot her a swift glance as she transferred her baking to a cooling rack. ‘And you thought—what?’

Chloe shrugged. ‘That she seemed intent on charming her patient’s son and heir.’