Chapter Twenty-four
William tapped his phone a couple of times and then ordered the taxi. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Brandy while we wait?’
‘Why not?’ said Gilly, thinking briefly about the risk of a hangover, before deciding she was enjoying herself so much any repercussions were worth it.
The taxi came and they both fell into the back. William’s fingers entwined with hers as they sped through the countryside.
The taxi was obviously part of a fleet used by William as no money changed hands before it drove away. He was by Gilly’s side at the front door in seconds.
‘Would you like to come in?’ asked Gilly, giggling as of course he had no choice.
‘Yes please,’ said William.
‘We’ll have to be quiet as I’ve got B & B guests.’
They entered the hall. ‘Would you like another drink or anything? We can talk in the kitchen.’ It was only now that the reality of the situation dawned on her. William was here, in her house, without a car between them. Although he could always order another taxi.
‘What about your bedroom? Could we talk there?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Then we should definitely go upstairs although I don’t want to talk.’ He paused, giving her time to back out.
She didn’t have to think about this; she knew what her answer would be. There was no way she was ready to sleep with William: she didn’t know him nearly well enough. Also, the preparation sleeping with him would take! The waxing, the exfoliation, the toenail varnishing – it all had to be done. She hadn’t had sex since the last time with her ex-husband, which seemed a very long time ago now. It wasn’t something that was possible in a worn PrimaDonna bra and a pair of old Sloggis.
Although she was certain in her mind her body had different ideas. She heard herself say, ‘Come on,’ and she took his hand.
When they reached her bedroom he shut the door behind them and took her into his arms. They kissed for a very long time.
‘I’m so glad I had the brandy,’ Gilly whispered as William undid her top. ‘Or I’d never have the nerve to do this.’
‘It’ll be fine,’ said William. ‘Trust me. I’m your accountant.’
As the night drew on Gilly had time to wonder if the characteristics that made William such a good accountant also made him a good lover. Meticulous attention to detail, finding sweet spots in unexpected places, not giving up until every area was attended to.
It was a wrench when, before it was even light, William got up and said he had to go.
‘The trouble with surprise parties midweek is that they don’t always happen at a time suitable for the person the party is given for,’ he said. ‘I have a meeting at the other end of the county and I have to go home and get ready.’
‘I wasn’t sure you’d like a surprise party,’ said Gilly, watching him put on his clothes. ‘I think they’re a bit Marmite – they work for some but others hate them.’
William came back to the bed and kissed her. ‘I absolutely loved it!’ he said.
Gilly was down early, ready to make breakfast for her B & B guests whenever they appeared. Usually she would try to get some sort of idea of when they might want to get up the night before but with trying to get off to William’s party, she’d forgotten.
Some elderly people got up really early and were ready for breakfast by seven. Others, who didn’t sleep well, sometimes got up much later because they wanted to catch up on the sleep they’d missed in the night. This couple, it transpired, belonged to the latter group.
She was grateful for the time to sort out her thoughts. She felt so giddy, so girlish, so – as Helena would put it – ‘loved-up’, she could hardly concentrate. She was grateful these guests hadn’t stayed with her before so they would think it normal for their hostess to keep forgetting things and to put tomatoes on the wrong guest’s plate.
They were still eating toast and marmalade when there was a knock on the door just after ten.
Gilly rushed to answer it, a smile on her face, convinced it was William, having changed his mind about the meeting. It was Leo.
You can’t take back a smile, Gilly realised as she looked at him. Nor can you say, ‘That wasn’t meant for you!’ You just have to back-pedal as best you can.
‘Can I come in?’ he asked, and as there was just enough gap between Gilly and the door frame for him to do so, he entered the house.
Gilly hoped she didn’t have to ask her guests to rescue her from him and ushered him into the kitchen. Ulysses would spring to her rescue and shower him with cat hairs if necessary, she was sure.
‘Gilly,’ Leo said, holding her hands. ‘Every time I try to talk to you it all comes out wrong. Will you give me ten minutes of your time?’
‘Of course,’ said Gilly, suspicious and a bit anxious. ‘Coffee?’
Leo sat at the kitchen table in his beautiful suit, eyeing Ulysses the cat, who did seem to have a rescue plan, involving the suit and its beauty, and his ginger fur.
‘So, Leo? What can I do for you?’ said Gilly when she’d put coffee, hot milk and a plate of biscuits down in front of him.
He fiddled around with his coffee for a few minutes and then nodded his head towards the dining room where the sound of knives against plates could still be heard. ‘Can they hear us?’
‘I doubt it. They both have hearing aids.’
‘Good. It must be such a nuisance not being able to say what you want in your own house.’
‘I don’t find it a problem,’ said Gilly.
‘Gilly,’ said Leo, taking hold of her hand.
She extracted his hand and said, ‘Please tell me what you came to say. I’m going to be called away at any moment.’
‘It’s all wrong you having to do this bed and breakfast thing! But anyway …’ He reached for her hand again but she kept it in her lap. ‘I don’t think, before, I took into consideration quite how much you love this house.’
‘Maybe not.’
‘So if we were together we could live here and not in my house. You’d like that better, wouldn’t you?’
‘What? Better than living in your house?’ It was his assumption that they should live together that really confused her.
‘Yes! We could live here, in the house you love. How about that?’
‘Well, I do like living here, that’s for sure,’ she said cautiously. While she could – and probably should – have sent him out of her house and her life forever, she was eager to know what his agenda was.
‘Exactly!’ He smiled as if her living in her house had been his idea all along. ‘Which is why here is where we’d live.’
‘But what about your lovely house? All your lovely things—’
‘Not important. What’s important is your happiness.’
‘Thank you,’ Gilly muttered, not sure how to respond to this.
‘Right. Well, the thing is, I don’t think I’ve made it quite clear what I want from our relationship.’
Gilly wasn’t aware they had one but didn’t comment.
‘I want to marry you, Gilly. I think we could make each other very happy.’ His statement sounded very rehearsed and strangely lacking in passion.