‘But she knew you loved her. You must miss her so much,’ said Layla.
He shrugged. ‘Of course I do. Then again, I was lucky to have her around for as long as I did. She could have died when I was a kid, like Shay Mason’s mum. That would have been so much worse.’
‘Oh my God.’ Harry did a massive double-take when he opened the door to his flat. ‘What’s all this? You’ve gone completely over the top. Here, let me help you . . .’
Once they were up the stairs, he dropped the sack onto the sofa and pulled Layla into his arms. ‘Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me . . .’
And when he’d finished kissing her, he said sincerely, ‘You gorgeous, beautiful thing . . . you’re the only present I want.’
‘Well that’s too bad,’ Layla teased as his hands roamed over her body, ‘because you have plenty more to unwrap.’
‘I’ll get to those later.’ His eyes glinted as he led her through to the bedroom. ‘You first.’
Afterwards, he opened the gifts, admiring the effort she’d gone to with the wrapping and decorations. Before long, the bed was covered with discarded gold paper and caramel satin ribbons.
‘A coffee machine.’ When the final present was revealed, he looked suitably surprised.
‘This is the one that had the best reviews. And these are the pods that go in them. I’ve bought two hundred, so you won’t have to worry about running out of coffee for a while.’ She patted the boxes of café au lait pods. ‘Or milk!’
‘Great,’ said Harry. ‘Although if I run out of milk, I just drink it black.’
Didn’t she know it. Layla watched as he examined the bed linen she’d chosen for him, a matching set of sage-green Egyptian cotton sheets, pillowcases and king-sized duvet cover.
‘Eight hundred thread count.’ She stroked the beautiful sheets, so much nicer to sleep on than the bobbly purple polyester ones currently in use on the bed.
He pulled a face. ‘Should we count them to make sure they’re all there?’
‘Only if you really want to.’ She gave him another hug. ‘Do you like everything?’
‘You bought far too much.’
‘I love giving presents.’ Yes, maybe she’d gone over the top, but they were all things he needed, and they made life so much more enjoyable. Matching cutlery! A gorgeous cashmere sweater and delicious aftershave that didn’t smell of toilet cleaner! Lovely new goose-down pillows!
‘You’re amazing. Thank you so much.’ He ran a finger over the outline of her mouth. ‘I love you.’
Layla gave a shiver of joy; he’d said it at last.
‘Is it too soon to be saying that? I can’t not tell you.’ Harry shook his head. ‘It’s the truth.’
Her heart swelled like marshmallow in a microwave. ‘It’s not too soon. I love you too.’
Later that evening, after they’d finished their pizzas, Harry took out his phone. ‘Have a look at this. What d’you think?’
She found herself gazing at a photo of a motorbike, a black and silver Yamaha according to the description beneath it.
‘Five hundred CC, four years old, eight thousand miles on the clock. Three grand.’
‘I know nothing about motorbikes. Are you going to buy it?’
‘I don’t know if I can afford it. But it’s definitely something I need. I mean, a pushbike’s good for getting around, but at the moment I’m spending more time getting to my clients than training them. It just makes sense to be able to travel further and faster than I’m doing right now.’ He grimaced. ‘The money thing could be a problem, though.’
‘You could apply for a loan, get a finance agreement,’ said Layla.
‘Except I’m self-employed. The only companies who’d take me on are the loan shark kind, and no way am I doing that.’
She knew all about his parents’ problems; it was their dealings with one such company that had landed them in such massive debt last year. Harry had been forced to use up his entire savings in order to bail them out.
‘Is that why you’re seeing them tomorrow? Are they able to pay back some of the money you lent them?’
He shook his head. ‘They can’t, and I wouldn’t ask them. They had no idea they’d end up getting into such a mess financially. I’m going to see them because I love them, not to pester them for money. Mum’ll have knitted me a jumper and Dad will give me a ten-pound voucher for Top Man, and I wouldn’t want any more than that.’
He was fighting back the emotion; Layla knew how much he loved his parents. She gave him a hug. ‘They’ll be so happy to see you.’
He nodded. ‘They will.’
‘They sound great.’ Hopefully she’d get to meet them one day.
‘They’re amazing.’ He gazed once more at the motorcycle on the screen, then switched off his phone.
An hour later, he said, ‘I’ve got something to ask you. And I don’t want to have to say it, but . . . well, it’s kind of personal.’
A sense of foreboding began to unfurl in the pit of her stomach. ‘What is it?’
‘No, don’t worry. Doesn’t matter.’
After a few seconds, Layla said, ‘Go on.’
‘You might not like it.’
‘Ask me.’
‘OK, but you can always say no.’
Here it came. Layla braced herself. If it was a request to lend him the three thousand pounds for the motorbike, she would have to say no. It was too much, too soon . . . please don’t let him ask it . . .
‘OK, don’t hate me.’ His beautiful dark eyes were apprehensive, his thumb anxiously stroking the back of her hand. ‘But do you still have the receipt for the coffee maker?’
Oh thank God. She gave a shaky laugh of relief. ‘Hello? I’m an accountant. Of course I’ve kept the receipt.’
‘I feel terrible, but would you mind if I took it back? It’s just, I wouldn’t really use it, and if I’m trying to get some money together for a bike, it’d be a real help.’
Layla was filled with remorse. She’d known he might not want to use a coffee machine; it had been for her own benefit really. It was on a par with giving someone a kennel when they didn’t have a dog. ‘I don’t mind, I promise.’
‘Sure?’
She gave a reassuring nod and ran her bare foot along his shin. ‘I’m glad you said it.’
Harry looked hopefully at her. ‘Are you?’
‘Yes!’
‘It’s just that getting myself some transport has to be my number one priority.’ He tapped the purple polyester that was so bobbly it drove her to distraction. ‘And I already have a sheet. So if you really mean it, maybe we could return the stuff for the bed too.’
Chapter 31
‘I know, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.’
Benny was in the kitchen and Ingrid was sitting outside in the shade with her laptop, preparing for tomorrow’s meetings in Copenhagen. The windows were wide open and he assumed she was speaking on the phone to her daughter, until it came back to him that Birgitte had called last night from Johannesburg.