‘I’ll do all I can to help at the farm,’ he says, obviously reading my face. ‘I’m not abandoning you. Far from it.’
But, if I’m honest with you, it feels like he is.
Chapter Twenty-Four
We finish dinner and I’d like to say that it’s in companionable silence, but it’s not really. Things are a bit awkward between us and, though Shelby initially tries to be chatty, I’m unable to pretend. I’m still trying to process all that he’s told me.
At the end of the evening he says, ‘Come back to my place.’
‘I can’t,’ I tell him. ‘I’ve got Lucas to think about. I don’t like to leave him alone at the farm for too long. It’s too isolated.’
‘I just wanted another hour of you all to myself.’ Shelby sighs. ‘I love Lucas, but I can’t face his disapproval again. Not now.’
I do know what he means, but the longer he avoids Lucas, the worse it gets. ‘Come back to the caravan. Stay over.’
‘I took all my stuff home. Remember?’
‘Ah, yes.’
‘I’ll get Ken to drop you off.’
‘Thanks.’
Shelby texts his driver and pays the bill. The waiter appears with my coat and, with much fawning over Shelby, we head towards the door. It feels to have been more of an ordeal than a date night.
When we’re out on the street, Shelby takes me in his arms and kisses me. I want to respond, but I’m aware that Ken is sitting in the car just a few metres away and I’m not prone to public displays of affection.
‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘That was lovely.’
We both know that I’m lying.
‘I’m sorry I dropped that on you,’ he says. ‘I had to get it off my chest.’
‘It’s fine. And I am pleased for you.’
Shelby stares earnestly at me. ‘Friends?’
‘Always,’ I tell him.
We walk to the car hand-in-hand. ‘Do you mind if Ken drops me off first? I’ve got an early start.’
‘No problem.’ I don’t point out that I’m up every day at 5.30 a.m. to feed impatient animals.
So Ken takes Shelby home to Homewood Manor, the gravel of the sweeping drive crunching beneath the tyres. It’s a beautiful house and, if I was a normal person, surely I’d move in like a shot.
Shelby kisses me again and, as he gets out of the car, says, ‘You won’t change your mind?’
Sadly, I shake my head. He looks lonely as he closes the door and heads towards the house, which is all in darkness. I can hardly bear to watch him go. I worry constantly about Lucas, but I know that Shelby is still grieving too and needs someone there for him. I know that I’m not giving him what he needs. When he’s done with all this panto stuff, we do need to discuss our living arrangements, or is it too soon to do that? I want Lucas to have a stable home base, and Shelby should want that too. I hope that living in my caravan with me is providing that, but I think we all need to talk about the future. I want to reassure Shelby that he is at the top of my list – or, at least, very near it.
Ken drives me back to Hope Farm. As I’m still sitting in the back we don’t chat, so I close my eyes and let the fuggy warmth of the car soothe me. We’re soon at my gate.
‘Goodnight, Molly,’ Ken says. ‘See you next time.’
‘Thanks, Ken. I appreciate the lift.’
‘He needs looking after,’ Ken adds.
‘I know.’ I get out of the car, worrying that even Shelby’s driver is pointing out my shortcomings. Perhaps everyone is used to pandering to Shelby’s every whim.
I should feel light after our evening out but, instead, I’m heavy of heart. As I cross the yard, I see that Aurora’s car is parked by the caravan. I didn’t know she was coming over tonight, but why shouldn’t Lucas have friends to visit? This, to all intents and purposes, is his home now.
The dogs bark when they hear me and just that simple thing makes me instantly feel much better. As I open the caravan door, the living room is in darkness, but I can hear scuffling sounds. Puzzled, I click on the light. On the sofa by the table, Aurora and Lucas are . . . oh . . . ah . . . er . . . getting ‘friendly’. Really very friendly. I stand, frozen, blinking like a mad thing.
Lucas is lying down while she is sitting astride him, her hands on his bare chest. Aurora and her jumper also appear to have parted company. Her bra is on the floor. Oh my giddy aunt. I only met her for the first time last night and now I’m acquainted with her . . . well, you don’t need me to spell it out.
Lucas looks suitably horrified, but maybe still not as horrified as me. ‘What are you doing home?’
‘I live here,’ I remind him.
Aurora is covering her boobs with her hands – which aren’t quite big enough to do a proper job. ‘Hi, Molly.’
Then we all just stay like statues, unable to break the moment.
Finally, I manage to mobilise my brain. ‘I just have to see to the animals,’ I say, hurriedly. ‘It will take me a while. Ten minutes, maybe longer. Bye.’
I bolt out of the door, taking the dogs with me. I stand with my back to the caravan and can hear myself breathing heavily. That was terrible, awful, traumatic. Did I really just see what I thought I saw? I did. Christ alive. I wanted to get to know Aurora better, but not that well.
I hear movement in the van behind me, frantic scrabbling. I hope that means they’re getting dressed. True to my word, I plan to stay out here for as long as it takes. So I totter across the yard in my ridiculous shoes as I didn’t hang around long enough to put my wellies on. The dogs, however, are happy that they’re out of the confines of the caravan, whatever the circumstances. Yet, now I’m out here, I don’t quite know what to do with myself, so I head into the barn to take a bit of solace with my beloved animals. I’m wearing a dress and silly shoes and it’s the weather for a big parka and boots.
The animals are all snuggled up asleep. Only Tina Turner rouses when I go to their pens. She stands up and comes over to me, ever hopeful that a midnight snack might be on offer.
‘Oh, Tina. What shall I do now?’ I lean against her neck and she lets me. She must know that I’m troubled as she doesn’t even try to eat my hair or my dress.
Never in a million years did I think that, while I was away, Lucas would be doing . . . that. He’s only known Aurora for five minutes. My heart is pounding in my chest. I never expected this to happen, not yet, not on my watch. What would Shelby do? What would he say? Lucas might be of legal age to . . . well. But he’s just a child. And not even my child. Oh, bollocky bollocks.
I stroke Tina’s neck and she tolerates it. Bringing up animals, it seems, is less fraught than bringing up a kid.
A few minutes later, just as deep shivering is setting in, I hear the slam of Aurora’s car door and her engine starts up. Then the gate closes after her and she heads up the lane. I need to catch my breath and marshal my thoughts before I speak to Lucas. I can’t ignore this, but I’m not sure that I’m equipped to deal with it either.
Chapter Twenty-Five
As I’m still pondering my quandary, Lucas appears. He’s got my big coat and my wellies.