He grinned. ‘If you get down on one knee and ask really nicely, I’d probably agree to marry you.’
Two days later, they left Kit’s mother’s flat in Wimbledon and travelled by train down to Cornwall. By mid afternoon they’d almost reached St Carys.
‘Put it away,’ Kit ordered.
Lainey couldn’t help herself. Sometimes she could take or leave Facebook, but now wasn’t one of those occasions. Anton had arrived in Saint-Tropez and was evidently wasting no time in moving on. He’d just posted a slew of photos of himself settling nicely into his new life on the Côte d’Azur. Fifty-seven photos, in fact, and she’d felt compelled to scroll through the lot of them. There was Anton on the deck of a superyacht, sitting outside a bar on the seafront, taking selfies on the beach looking happy and handsome, for all the world as if he wasn’t missing her at all. But that was because he wasn’t missing her, was he? And think of all the stunning bikini-clad girls down there who’d be only too delighted to rub suncream into those beautiful brown shoulders . . .
‘Stop it.’ This time Kit took the phone away from her, switched it off and dropped it into his shirt pocket.
‘I love it when you’re being masterful.’
He studied her face. ‘Are you really missing him?’
Was she? Lainey considered the question and exhaled. ‘I just wish he wasn’t having quite such a brilliant time, that’s all.’
Basically, her pride was bruised. Then again, at least she was used to it.
‘Look, I haven’t said this before, but the rest of us thought Anton was a bit of a smug git.’
Deep down, Lainey knew Kit was right. But it was always hurtful hearing someone else say that kind of thing; it felt as if they were criticising you for being stupid enough to have got involved with someone like that in the first place.
‘I mean, he had a pretty high opinion of himself,’ Kit continued. ‘Thought he was God’s gift.’
‘Yes, yes, all right.’
‘All I’m trying to say is, he’s not worth moping over. You could do so much better.’
‘Except I’m not going to be doing any better because I’m not planning on doing anything at all. Man-free zone, remember?’With raised arms and pointy index fingers, Lainey drew a bubble around herself. ‘And I’m not moping anyway. Just because I’ve been flicking through a few photos doesn’t mean—’
‘Why don’t you stop arguing,’ Kit interjected, ‘and start paying attention instead? You haven’t even looked out of the window yet.’
She followed the direction of his nod and did a double take. What felt like just a few minutes ago, the train had been rattling through the countryside, surrounded on all sides by rolling fields and verdant countryside. But whilst she’d been hunched over her phone, busy scrutinising every last detail in Anton’s photos, they’d reached the coast. There before them was the sea, glittering in the sunlight and bordered by a sweeping crescent of yellow sand. As the little train chugged around a bend in the track, the seaside town of St Carys came into view.
‘Wow,’ Lainey breathed. Of course they’d looked the place up online, but the real thing was already better. ‘I want to live here. Do you have a good feeling about it? Because I do, I definitely do.’
‘Don’t go getting your hopes up.’ Kit was the practical one. ‘We haven’t passed the interview yet.’
They were early; their appointment at Menhenick House wasn’t until four, which left them with thirty minutes to kill. Since dragging their overnight cases across the sand wasn’t ideal, they stopped at the end of the esplanade overlooking the harbour and grabbed a table at a café topped with a blue and white striped awning.
‘OK, we’re a ten-minute walk away.’ Double-checking the map on his phone, Kit pointed to the left. ‘Up that hill and over on the other side of town. It’s straightforward enough.’
‘Do you think they’ll like us?’
‘I don’t see why not. I’m fantastically lovable, and you’re just about bearable when you make an effort.’
‘Do we look like a couple, though? Do we behave like a couple?’
‘We could quickly go and buy a couple of matching Kiss Me Quick hats, if you think it’ll help.’
‘Maybe we should practise holding hands.’ Lainey didn’t regard herself as a devious person or an untruthful one, but on this occasion it was a necessary fib. The family had advertised for a couple to work for them and the accommodation they were supplying was a small one-bed apartment. If other genuine couples were in the frame, being two unattached people might be all that was needed to tip the scales against them and lose them the job.
‘If we were a couple, we wouldn’t hold hands during the interview,’ Kit pointed out.
She pushed aside her coffee and reached across the table. ‘Come on, humour me. Let’s give it a go anyway.’
Kit did as she asked, lacing his fingers between hers. ‘Like this?’
‘How does it feel?’
‘Bit weird. The last time I held hands with a female, it was my mum and I was six.’
‘Give us a kiss.’ Lainey leaned closer and playfully pursed her lips.
Kit did the same and blew a kiss across the table.
The woman in charge of the café, coming over to clear the empty table next to them, said cheerfully, ‘Now that’s what we like to see, a nice bit of romance to cheer us all up! Down here on your honeymoon, are you?’ She tilted her head, checking their clasped hands for brand-new wedding rings.
‘Maybe one day.’ Kit showed her his ring-free finger. ‘She hasn’t asked me yet.’
A couple of minutes later, Kit disappeared to the loo. Since her phone was still confiscated, Lainey sipped her coffee and watched the flow of people making their way in and out of the shops along the curving esplanade. Her gaze was on a young mum attempting to console a screaming toddler when she was distracted by the sight of a tall man in his thirties making his way past. He was wearing jeans and a black polo shirt, with sunglasses hooked over the V at his throat, and it was the way he walked that caught Lainey’s attention, because it was such a beautiful, easy walk. Narrow hips, long legs, flat stomach; if she’d had a checklist, it’d be full of ticks by now. And he was good-looking, too. Even from this distance she could see the excellent bone structure, the dark eyes and defined eyebrows.
OK, men might be off the agenda for the foreseeable future, but it was still possible to admire a physically attractive specimen.
The next moment an older woman swerved into his path and held her arms out as if to waylay him. Without slowing or missing a step, the man diverted past whilst completely ignoring her. Mystified, Lainey watched as she clasped her hands together and called out, ‘Oh please,’ but the man continued as if she simply didn’t exist, heading on towards the café, then abruptly turning left and disappearing into one of the narrow side streets.
The woman, visibly dejected, trudged away in the other direction. And Lainey realised that it didn’t matter how physically attractive you might be, nothing could make up for a cruel and uncaring attitude. How could he just ignore someone like that? Was the woman his mother, or some other relative? Was she an ex-employee, summarily dismissed? Because she hadn’t appeared to be begging for money, nor had she approached any of the other passers-by.