‘I’ll just do a couple of hundred star jumps while I’m waiting,’ said Red.
Five seconds after he ended the call, Shay’s phone rang again.
‘Are you missing me already?’ said Caz. ‘Because I miss you.’
Was she even a mile away yet? ‘I’m just heading off to the house.’
‘Do you miss me, though?’
He glanced across at Didi, who was frowning at her computer screen but doubtless also listening to his conversation. ‘I will, just as soon as I get the chance.’
‘Do you love me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Say it, then!’
‘I can’t speak now, I’m driving.’
‘I don’t have to catch my flight,’ Caz reminded him. ‘I could always come back. Unless you say it.’
In her world it was practically meaningless, Shay knew. On stage, on TV and on social media she regularly told her audiences how very much she loved each and every one of them from the bottom of her heart.
He murmured, ‘I love you,’ and heard Caz’s whoop of delight.
‘See? I knew you could say it!’
By the time he rang off, Didi had disappeared. Shay wondered if she’d overheard him.
Well, so what if she had? She and Aaron must say it to each other all the time.
Chapter 33
‘All OK?’ Benny greeted Rosa when she joined him in the kitchen at Compton House the following week.
‘Great, thanks!’ She pulled out a stool at the marble-topped island and helped herself to two of the shortbread biscuits from the tartan tin. ‘It feels strange being out there talking to him, knowing I don’t have to skulk around any more. Strange but nice,’ she amended. ‘Being allowed to be here.’
‘You always would have been allowed, if only I’d known.’
‘Ah well, I didn’t tell you before, but I had a bit of a run-in with Ingrid the other week too.’
‘You did?’ Benny looked horrified. ‘What did she say?’
Rosa provided him with a brief recap of the mortifying encounter in the garden. ‘She didn’t approve of you letting me be there. And she told me my conversations with Joe were dull.’
‘God, I’m so sorry. I used to tell myself she was just a plain speaker. But that was me trying to convince myself that she was a decent person deep down. Whereas in reality,’ said Benny, ‘she’s just a bitch who enjoys making other people feel small.’ He ran his fingers through his rumpled brown hair. ‘I don’t know how we stayed together as long as we did. It’s my own stupid fault.’
‘It definitely isn’t your fault. Don’t ever think that!’
‘I meant for getting involved with someone I knew wouldn’t be easy to live with. I’m just not great at choosing the right women.’ Benny sighed. ‘I’ve never had a relaxed relationship, d’you know what I mean? One where you don’t have to mind your step and watch out for problems the whole time. All I want is an easy, happy life with no arguments and no drama.’
‘I know.’ Rosa was already nodding in agreement. ‘I was very lucky, I had that with Joe. He was always cheerful; I never had to wonder if he’d be in a mood when he came home. We just loved being a couple, doing nice things for each other and having fun. If ever we were making dinner and a good song came on the radio, we’d start dancing together and it was just so lovely.’
‘In here?’
‘In our first little flat in London and then yes, in here too.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘When Layla was little, she used to clap her hands and join in. Then she turned into a teenager, which put a stop to that. But Joe and I always carried on, even when she was rolling her eyes and going, “Eww, gross, old people getting sexy.” Joe always told her that even when we were ninety, we’d still be dancing in the kitchen.’
‘Sounds wonderful,’ said Benny.
‘It was. And maybe we didn’t get to carry on doing it until we were ninety, but it was brilliant while it lasted. I was lucky to have him for as long as I did.’ Rosa gestured to her face. ‘And look at me now! It goes to show, time really does heal. I used to burst into tears just thinking about it. Even last year I’d break down if I tried to talk about him. But here we are, and not a tear in sight. It’s become a happy memory.’
‘That’s good. I’m glad. Were you amazing dancers?’
She doubled up with laughter. ‘Oh no, not at all, we were terrible! It just didn’t matter, so long as we were having a ball and being terrible together.’
When Rosa arrived back at Frog Cottage three hours later, she found Red stretched out on the most comfortable sunlounger in the shade of the willow tree. She observed him for several seconds, holding her breath until reassured that his chest was continuing to rise and fall.
The next moment, without opening his eyes, he said, ‘Why are you watching me?’
‘I thought you were asleep.’
‘Or were you checking I was still alive?’
‘Don’t say that.’
He chuckled and opened his eyes. ‘Why not? It’s true, isn’t it? Where’ve you been, anyway?’
‘Compton House.’
He checked the angle of the sun in the sky. ‘For three hours?’
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to be away for so long.’
‘No worries. Shay only dropped me back an hour ago. Been drinking?’
‘What is this, the Spanish Inquisition? No, I haven’t been drinking. Why would you say that?’
‘You told me you had champagne last time.’
‘Well we didn’t today. Do I sound as if I’ve had a drink?’
‘No. Your face looks kind of lit up, that’s all.’ He was studying her with interest. ‘Almost . . . sparkling.’
‘We were sitting outside in the sunshine,’ said Rosa. ‘It’s probably sweat.’
‘That must be it.’ Red sounded amused. ‘But you had a good time.’
‘We did, we were just chatting away about all sorts. I didn’t realise it was so late. By the way, what are you up to tomorrow, any plans?’
‘Not sure. I’ll probably be over at the house again. Why?’
‘Benny’s driving to Westonbirt Arboretum. He wondered if I’d like to go along, and we thought you might be interested too.’ Hastily, because walking more than a hundred metres would be too much for him, Rosa added, ‘We checked online and it’s completely wheelchair-friendly. You’d love it.’
‘Trees. No thanks.’
‘You like trees!’
‘I like some trees. But there’s such a thing as too many. They get a bit samey after a while.’
‘They wouldn’t be samey,’ Rosa protested, but he was already shaking his head.
‘Not my thing. You two go without me. Tell Benny thanks for the offer, but I’d rather spend the time with my boy.’
The trouble with missing breakfast was it gave your stomach delusions of grandeur when it was time for lunch, like it deserved a reward for having waited so long. Instead of grabbing a sandwich or a pot of pasta salad from the bakery just up the road, Layla found herself heading instead for the French café on Comer Street.