‘And thanks for getting me out of trouble, too. If she’d caught me there on my own, I wouldn’t have been able to think of an excuse fast enough.’
‘Rules for life. Always have an excuse at the ready. You never know when you’re going to need one.’
Rosa laughed. ‘You have your uses. I’m learning more and more.’
‘Oh, you’re lucky to have me. I’m practically indispensable,’ said Red.
Chapter 14
‘What are you thinking?’ said Harry, appearing in the bedroom doorway.
What was she thinking? Layla had no intention of answering that. Telling a brand-new boyfriend that you were imagining how you’d write your new name once you were married to him would be terrifying enough to send anyone running for the hills, if not crashing through the bedroom window.
Oh, but it sounded so perfect, though. Layla Gray! In her mind, she’d already been practising her new signature, especially loving the underlining flourish of the final y. Of course plenty of professional women preferred to keep their own surname when they married – and there was nothing wrong with Gallagher – but equally, wasn’t it nice sometimes to have a change?
‘I’m thinking it’s far too early to be getting up yet.’ Lying back against the pillows, she patted the empty side of the bed in a seductive manner. ‘I hope you weren’t thinking of leaving me alone in here.’
‘I wish we could stay in bed all day.’ He looked regretful. ‘But I have to work.’
‘What? It’s half seven on Saturday morning.’
‘And I have a client waiting for me to knock on her door at eight fifteen. Hang on, kettle’s just boiled.’ He disappeared into the kitchen and returned two minutes later with a red and white striped Arsenal mug. ‘Here you go, I’ve made you coffee.’
Layla preferred tea, but she said, ‘Thank you!’ and took a cautious sip, ducking her head so he wouldn’t see her mouth curl in a grimace because he’d made it with cheap granules and soya milk again.
‘Is it OK?’
‘Lovely!’ she beamed, because no one liked a finicky girlfriend. It wasn’t his fault he preferred soya milk to the normal kind.
Whilst Harry was in the shower, Layla thought back over the past nine days, which had passed in a haze of happiness. Having initially planned to make Harry wait for a fortnight, she’d rapidly amended that decision just in case he grew tired of waiting, and also because . . . well, why shouldn’t she change her mind if she wanted to? When the chemistry was there, fizzing like champagne bubbles, what was the point in saying no just because advice columnists told you it would pay dividends and make your partner keener on you in the long run? Sometimes these things did need to happen sooner than later. Which they had, and it hadn’t spoiled their relationship at all.
Anyway, a perfect weekend now lay ahead of them. Throwing back the duvet, she raced through to the kitchen, tipped the contents of the Arsenal mug down the sink and jumped back into bed with the empty mug just as the shower was switched off.
When Harry emerged from the bathroom wearing only a sky-blue towel around his hips, Layla said, ‘I’ve been thinking, rather than meet up later, why don’t I wait here while you visit your client? Wouldn’t that be easier?’
‘It would be easier.’ He threw her an apologetic smile. ‘But I’ve got another client booked in at midday and I’ll be stuck with her for three hours at least.’ Reaching over to retrieve the mug, he added, ‘And she’s keen to introduce me to her friend who might hire me too, so who knows when I’ll be able to get away? Oh baby, don’t be sad. I’d much rather be with you than them, but building a client list is kind of important right now.’
‘I’m not sad,’ said Layla, which was a lie, but she didn’t want to sound needy. ‘Actually, it’s for the best. I have a ton of work to catch up on.’
‘Well you do that and I’ll get on with my schmoozing, and we’ll see each other this evening.’
Leaving her with an entire empty day. Bum. Aloud she said, ‘Perfect,’ whilst wondering if he would be missing her as much as she was going to miss him.
‘You’re amazing. Come here.’ Breaking into a slow smile, he put the mug down on the bedside cabinet and bent over to plant a kiss on her mouth. Which just made it worse, because she didn’t want the kiss to end.
‘I’m going to ask you a question now,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘And I want an honest answer.’
‘OK.’ Heavens, what was he about to ask?
‘Did you throw away the coffee I made you?’
Oh. Crestfallen, Layla said, ‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘I can’t stand soya milk.’ She might as well be honest. ‘It’s rank.’
He started to laugh. ‘Oh babe.’
‘How did you know I’d thrown it away?’ Please don’t let there be hidden cameras.
‘You don’t taste of coffee.’
Well that was a relief at least. Layla nodded. ‘Excellent detective skills.’
‘And excellent abs.’ He flexed proudly. ‘Don’t forget the abs.’
‘I don’t think anyone could forget your abs.’
‘Right, we need to get out of here.’ Dressing at the speed of light, Harry scooped up the clothes she’d left in an untidy pile on the chair in the corner of his bedroom. As he handed them to her, he leaned forward and kissed her again. ‘You’re gorgeous, do you know that?’
She ran the flat of her hand over the front of his white T-shirt, her fingertips bumping over the impressive six-pack. She didn’t usually have this much confidence, but he was making her feel like a goddess. Kissing him back, she said playfully, ‘Of course I do.’
When they’d left the flat and Harry had headed off on his bicycle, Layla sat down on one of the riverside benches and took out her phone. Telling herself she fancied a change, she called Alan’s Taxis instead, but Alan was taking a family to Gatwick and his brother was sleeping off a late night and probably wouldn’t be awake before midday.
The third and worst taxi company in Elliscombe wasn’t even answering its phone.
She heaved a sigh, texted a request to Will and received a prompt reply:
I’ll be there in ten minutes.
She sat back on the bench to wait. He hadn’t made any more barbed comments since that initial evening, but she sensed he was still thinking them. Well, if he came out with some sarcastic remark, he’d get an earful in return.
On the pavement behind her, she heard the clip-clop of two pairs of high heels and a girl said with a snigger, ‘See that one over on the bench? Looks like a Christmas tree.’
Which was fair enough really, considering the way the multicoloured sequins were glittering on her emerald taffeta jacket.
‘Imagine having to go home dressed like that, so everyone knows you pulled last night.’ The other girl spoke with more than a touch of Schadenfreude. ‘Embarrassing, innit?’
Layla imagined having the kind of confidence to turn and say to them, ‘Actually, I’m not embarrassed at all. It was great.’
When Will’s taxi pulled up, he didn’t utter a word as she climbed into the passenger seat. Not until they were a couple of miles down the road did he say easily, ‘It’s going to be a nice day.’