‘You never wanted to sell it?’ There’s sympathy on Tom’s face.
I shake my head. ‘No. Stupid really but it’s the last link with my gran and she wanted me to have a home. She knew it would be bad when she’d gone, and unfortunately she died very quickly.’ I don’t want to think about that time. I change the subject.
‘Right, as you cooked, I’ll wash up.’ I stand up and pick up my plate, but he jumps up and takes it from me.
‘Uh uh. No. The birthday girl is excused from washing up. You go take a glass of wine and cue up the next Star Wars film.’
‘If it’s my birthday, shouldn’t I get to choose?’ I pout, not believing for one minute that he’s going to fall for it.
He sighs. ‘Go on then but you might never get this chance to catch up on the Star Wars universe.’
‘I’ll risk it,’ I say and turn to take my wine back to the lounge with a cocky grin. What he doesn’t know is that I have every intention of watching the next Lucas extravaganza with him.
‘Big mistake, huge,’ he teases.
‘You have watched it.’
‘Might have done.’
The light-hearted smile on his face as I walk away fills me with sadness. This is our last evening together. Our interlude is about to end. I don’t for a minute think that back in the real world there’ll be a happy ever after. This domestic bliss is as make-believe as one of his films. It’s not real life, certainly not as I’ve ever experienced it, but we’ve got tonight and I’m going to enjoy it while I can.
Chapter Twenty-Three TOM
‘Tom.’ Her words are husky with sleep as I lift her. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Taking you to bed.’ My lips graze her forehead. She dozed off during the film and I didn’t have the heart to wake her; she looked so serene and cosy in the low light created by the wood burner. I didn’t mean to be creepy, but I’ve been watching her for the last half hour, piecing everything together. Tonight she’s given a lot away and it’s made me even more … impressed, admiring, sad for her. It sounds like her parents were a nightmare and yet she’s so steady, capable and resourceful. Her genuine delight at the silly presents and the cakes has brought light into a dark space within me. She’s a revelation.
‘You don’t need to carry me,’ she says, blinking up at me.
‘And give up my Han-Solo-rescuing-Leia swash-buckling fantasy? I don’t think so.’ I like the idea of looking after her.
‘I think she rescued him just as often,’ she mumbles. Her snuffly laugh as she buries her face in my chest tickles me, inside and out.
I think it’s about time someone rescued Lydia for a change and treated her like a princess and I’m more than happy to look after her tonight. We’re both buying into a fantasy here, away from the rest of the world. After tonight we’ll be thrust back into reality and who knows what will happen? There’s not going to be a fairy-tale ending, I’m sure of that. I could never give Lydia what she needs. She so self-sufficient, knows who she is and deserves better. I’m bound to let her down at some point, like I always do. I’m never quite good enough. I’ve not climbed the heady echelons of the insurance industry despite all the advantages my parents have given me. They’re ‘let down’ by the fact I’m not yet a board director. I can hardly bear to think of the row there’ll be when I announce I’m giving it all up to make a film.
My hands tighten on Lydia’s body inadvertently. I can already hear the disappointment in Dad and Mum’s voices. Lydia leans up and kisses me on the neck. I close my eyes. She’ll end up being disappointed with me, too. I won’t be enough in the end. I’m not going to be the successful insurance guy that she probably wants. That’s why it’s always easier not to get involved and to keep my emotions in check. I don’t like letting my guard down because I don’t want anyone to expect too much of me. I’ve spent my life trying to live up to my parents’ expectations and it’s like being on a narrow path up a mountain, one small slip and you come tumbling down and have to start all over again.
‘Tom.’ Lydia’s fingers have slid up my nose and are stroking the lines that have formed between my eyebrows. ‘I can almost hear you thinking.’
I kiss her. I don’t want to talk. I just want to make her come for me, hear those breathy moans of hers and sink into the heat of her body.
When I lower her to the bed, I stroke the hair back from her face, and the soft smile she gives me makes my heart go into free-fall. This is probably our last night. I want to make it special – so that when this interlude comes to a close, we both have good memories and regret nothing. As if she can read my mind, she reaches up and pulls my head down to hers and kisses me with what feels like soft, quiet hunger.
I think she feels it too – that we’re-at-the-end-of-the-line desperation.
Tonight, the sex is slow and deliberate, as if we’re both trying to wring every last bit of pleasure out of every move. When I’ve kissed every inch of her body and she, with infinite care and a wicked sparkle in her eyes, returns the favour, I guide myself into her, millimetre by millimetre, stopping to tease and eke out every last drop of sensation. Her hips buck but I hold her tight, controlling the pace.
‘Tom,’ she pleads.
I shake my head. ‘Slowly,’ I say.
‘Now,’ she clutches my forearms. ‘I want you.’
I grin down at her and deliberately withdraw just a fraction.
She groans and captures my mouth with another deep open-mouthed kiss.
I hold still, savouring the hot tightness of her flesh wrapped around me. The urge to drive forward is killing me but the expression of soft lust in Lydia’s eyes is a heady turn-on. It makes me feel invincible.
I feel myself losing control. I have to … I have to … With a half groan, half gasp I slide home and retreat, again and again, a relentless glide. I can’t stop now, the friction between our bodies sending sparkler showers of sensation shooting through me as we make the climb. I can hardly bear the feelings gathering and I’m powerless to stop the moans that come with each slow sure thrust. Lydia breathes my name and I look down at her, my jaw clenched in exquisite pain as I try to drag out each move to savour every moment. I can feel my ejaculation building, swelling, the almost painful pinch of pleasure and then I stiffen as my orgasm bursts, as I let go, pulsing into her with a burst of white-hot pleasure. ‘Fuck, Lydie. Fuck. Oh fuck.’
Our eyes lock and hold with the force of a tractor beam, I can’t look away even though I know I should break the connection, not make a false promise … but I can’t. At this moment, Lydia is everything. The stars, the sun and everything in between and I can’t have her. Swallowing regret, I kiss her on the corner of the mouth. ‘Happy Birthday.’ It’s a last gift to her. I’m not going to be the one to disappoint her. She deserves someone else. Someone that won’t let her down. It’s time for me to pull back.
I stand in the doorway unobserved and watch Lydia wrapping the chipped fridge magnet in her face cloth as if it’s a precious jewel and then carefully tucking it into her toilet bag along with the hair bobble. My heart aches just a little. It’s just a stupid fridge magnet. After that, she gives the chocolate bar a longing sniff before packing it into the front pocket on her rucksack. The whimsical gesture saddens and amuses me. I want to tell her she could have a piece now, if she wanted, but it wouldn’t set the right tone. Today we’re going back to reality, we need to be business-like and efficient, if we’re going to get to Trafalgar Square by eight tonight.
Instead, I ask, ‘All set?’
She looks up, a little startled. ‘Morning.’
The calm greeting makes me feel like shit. I deliberately got out of bed before she woke this morning and showered and dressed. They say actions speak louder than words. I think I’ve made it clear that our time is over.
‘I’ve made some breakfast.’
While she goes downstairs to eat, I pack up my rucksack and give the room one last look – I’m sorry to leave our safe haven. With typical efficiency, Lydia has thoughtfully stripped the bed and piled the sheets and the towels in one corner.
I stand at the window looking out over the magnificent view. For once the weather is on our side and the only clouds are distant beyond the hills and mountains. Part of me wants to stay, not have to return to London, to the job – although now the prize is within grasping distance if Lydia’s plan works. There’s still a chance we could be caught but the odds are in our favour.
