Part Six

It was a sunny afternoon and they sat outside the Plough in the warm beer garden. Despite the tension between them, today, the conversation was easy, and with several glasses of ice cold chardonnay, it was almost a perfect afternoon. Marc was great company Isobel had to concede, and whilst every part of her wanted to push him away, he was charming her and she was losing the battle daily.

                “Shit!” Marc leapt out of his seat. “It’s school time!”

She looked at her watch then jumped up too, “oh my God, we’ll look like THE worst parents.”

Laughing like naughty if not slightly tipsy school kids, they took off at pace, running down the High street into the village square. They grinned and waved at familiar faces as they ran through the square in the direction of the school, Marc dragging her by the hand as she flagged short of breath. Halfway along the trip she stopped to slide her heels off, finding it much easier barefoot and flat. They were laughing almost hysterically by the time they got to the school, and were only a few minutes late. And both acted in a very guilty manner taking the visual chastisement from the teacher over the heads of their oblivious children.

With their children safely collected they parted at the school gates with a conspiratorial smile.

That night she was relaxing with hot chocolate and a movie, when the phone rang.

                “I saw a bizarre sight whizzing past my window today...I was so stunned I had to stop cutting hair for a moment to take it in!” Isobel groaned at Orla’s voice, she should have known that her exploits would not escape her best friend; she was like the News of The World. In true Orla fashion, she refused to hang up until she had all the gossip!

The next morning, it was barely nine am when she received a phone call from the cricket club. They were pleased to confirm that they had accepted her tender, and were keen to get a contract between her and them sighed as soon as possible. Michael, eavesdropping started whooping, leaping around the cafe as she called Marc to thank him.

He answered after the third ring, but before he could speak she blurted out, “as you know we got the contract!”

She could hear the humour in his voice, “Isobel! Such a pleasure to hear from you. Two civil conversations in as many days?”

She laughed, “I’m happy ok? And I’m ignoring the sarcasm.  I called to thank you and to ask if I can buy you dinner one night. Just to show I’m trying to be nice!”

He pondered deliberately for a moment, “I’ve never been bought dinner by a woman before.”

                “First time for everything. I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening?” she offered closing her eyes.

                “I’m in London till five, I’m due into the train station at seven...you could pick me up there? We could go straight out.”

                “Won’t the kids miss you if you don’t go home first?”

He sighed, “I don’t see them much, not when I’m at work, that’s why I’m planning to stop soon, get off the roundabout. I’d love it if you’d pick me up. I’ll make it up to the kids on the weekend.”

Isobel ignored her shaking legs,                “Ok, that sounds like a plan.”

                “It sounds like a date!” he teased, pushing her further, but with a groan she hung up refusing to bite in this instance.

After work, Isobel stressed for hours over what to wear. She’d lost all confidence since Richard, he’d made her so self conscious, every curve was too much, she was too tall, too pale, her hair too  long, too dark. It was always something negative, had he’d said such hurtful things to her. These days everything she owned was loose, baggy and dark. All intended to cover her, hide her away from hurtful eyes. And nothing she had seemed good enough for the night ahead.

In the end she chose a pair of short linen trousers in white and a black sleeveless top, scooped her hair up onto her head, and wore large silver earrings and the silver boot on a chain around her neck which was the last thing her mother had ever bought her.

Once Elsie arrived to babysit, she settled Taylor with supper and her bed time story, then bombed to the station just as the London trained pulled up at the platform. Marc was an authoritative, elegant and powerful silhouette against the warm evening. His suit as usual hung perfectly from his broad shoulders, the navy caught the blue in his eyes as he looked up and met her eyes, and despite having a telephone clamped to his head, the look he gave her was smouldering. What the hell was she letting herself in for? He was way out of her league.

He waited until he ended the call before heading across the pavement to her car, his eyes not leaving hers the whole time.

Sliding into the passenger seat beside her he smiled, “what a welcome this is!”

As he leaned across and brushed his lips across her cheek she replied, “You look tired!”

He smiled at her, “it’s been a long day, and a busy day. But all of a sudden I’m not tired anymore, you’re a refreshing sight!”

She blushed, “where do you fancy eating?”

                “I took the liberty of booking a table at a nice little Italian I know...it’s near home. Do you want to take the car home first?”

She shrugged as she pulled out in to the road, “I don’t mind driving.”

                “Will you be able to relax without a few glasses of wine?  Am I going to meet the cold shoulder again?”

                “No, I’m going to be civil all night!”

The drove the twenty minutes to the restaurant, Marc interspersing their light, neutral conversation, with directions.

When they pulled up outside, he took her hand, “I don’t think I’ve ever been taken out like this before. Treated by a lady!”

Suddenly she felt way out of her depth all over again, but sensing her anxiety, he squeezed her hand and led her into the cosy building. He was obviously a regular as the small, greying man who met them embraced him in a bear hug, before holding him at arm’s length.

                “You look well Marc; it’s so good to see you! If I’d realised it was you I’d have booked you the best table in the house!” The older man gushed.

                “Any table will do Stefano, they’re all good!”

Sensing that things were tense between the two guests he showed them rapidly to a corner table. “Melanie will be over to take your orders in a few minutes.”

They ordered seafood starters and tomato pasta for their main, then Melanie left to get their wine.

                “So London was hectic? Do you get there much?”

He waited as the wine was poured in front of them, then drank at his glass earnestly. “I needed that, does that answer your question?” Smiling he added, “I’m tying up a lot of loose ends, then I can step back and spend more time with the kids they need me now, so I’m easing my foot off the gas.”

Melanie arrived with their starters, and they looked delicious. Isobel looked at Marc, and realised how little she knew about him.

                “So tell me about the kids,” she suggested digging into a large grilled prawn.

He leaned back in his chair and smiled, “Lucas is my son, obviously, and Sophie is my niece.”

“Really?” she was shocked, her mouth still open anticipating the buttery prawn that had stopped in mid air. She looked up at him intently.

He nodded, “my brother was a single parent, and when he died in a car accident my mother offered to take Sophie on, but she lives in France, all that Sophie knows is here, she used to spend so much time with us before the accident that it seemed logical for her to live with us.” He started to laugh in an ironic way, shaking his head as he did.

                “What’s funny?”

He was still shaking his head, “it was three years ago, and it’s only now as I’m actually saying the words that things have started to make sense. Everything is finally falling into place. I didn’t even click!” He raised his hand to his forehead. “How stupid am I?”

Isobel frowned, this was both confusing, and she imagined, very important for Marc, “from the look on your face I’d say very!”

He laughed in a self deprecating way, “I’ve not told anyone this ever, but Anthony died in a car crash, my wife Sadie was with him, they both died.”

“Oh!”  She gasped completely stunned.

“I remember rushing to the hospital…I had to identify both bodies, then go and tell my mother, Sophie’s parents, and Sophie. It was a terrible night.”

She reached across the table and laid her hand over his, “that’s awful!”

He looked up at her, “I got home that night and looked in on Lucas, he was eighteen months old, I’d had to get a neighbour to babysit to go to the hospital. Next to his bed, was a letter…”

He looked into her eyes for a long time, unable to formulate the next words.

                “What is it Marc?” she whispered.

                “There was a note, she was leaving me…”  He tried to shake himself out of the sadness that had engulfed him. “Since his wife had died he’d spent loads of time with us. It’s only now as I told you that that I realise exactly why he was always around. And there was me working like a dog to keep everyone happy.” He shook his head in wonder, “it was Anthony, he wasn’t helping her move out, they were going away together. Both leaving their kids. Can you believe that?”

She was stunned, “that’s terrible Marc, you poor thing…and those poor kids.”

                “No one knows!” he announced and his face was serious as he suddenly realised how loose his tongue and been.  “And no one will. It won’t help anyone, Sadie’s family, my family, the kids; they think it was just a coincidence. The kids don’t need to know they were being abandoned by their parents…it wouldn’t help anyone.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “of course, but you’ve had to deal with that the last few years, it must’ve been difficult.”

He laughed, “that’s putting it mildly. But I look back now; I was so busy, all over the World, working all hours. It couldn’t have been easy for Sadie…” he took a large mouthful of wine and savoured it in his mouth before swallowing. “I’ve had a change of perspective, my life is different. And the kids are a tonic. Sophie is wonderful, and we get on really well, Lucas is great too. My life is good, and I appreciate everything I have.”

                “It’s nice to see that you’ve dealt with it all.”

They paused as the plates were cleared from in front of them.

                “I have been in some very dark places. The last year or so I’ve cleared my head,” he smiled. “I didn’t think I’d ever be interested in anyone again, never trust anyone ever again.”

She gasped, when the air seemed to whoosh out of her lungs, “But you trust me?” She was incredulous at that.

                “I’ve told you something that no one else in the world knows, and it’s something that could hurt my family,” he sighed, “it’s a risk, but I think you’re worth that, I don’t think you’d find any pleasure in betraying a confidence.”

She took a deep breath and chewed her bottom lip.

Watching her digest that information, Marc had a desire to bite that lip himself, and he had to physically shake his head to erase the image.

                “So what about Taylor’s dad? Do you still see him?” Marc asked breaking the silence as he slugged at his wine again, he was resorting to teenage tactics of using alcohol to keep him calm, there was something about this woman.

She shook her head, “he doesn’t know about her. I found out he was married after he’d promised me the world. She was the only good thing to come from him.”

He hated that, some bastard treating her like that, “ah. I know the type. ”

She looked up at him, “look at us both, spilling all our secrets!”

He laughed, “that’s what friends do Iz, and I have to say the more I learn about you, the more I crave to know.”

                “Well I like seafood,” she joked as she turned her focus back to her meal.

                “That’s what I like about you, the ability to change the subject and tone of our conversations!"

She laughed, “I don’t think I can tell you anymore, you know too much about me already.”

The conversation returned to her gratitude for his help with her work. And they chatted about the new contracts and how she planned to deal with the increase demand.

Then they were on to coffee, and the natural flowing conversation seemed to slow up.

                “So Ms Mullins?”

She looked at him coyly, “yes?”

                “Was a date with me as bad as you thought?”

She shook her head, “I always knew you’d be charming…and attentive…and fun. I just don’t know if I’m ready to throw myself headlong into this…”

Reaching for her hand he gave it a squeeze, “no one is throwing anyone anywhere. You know I like you Isobel, we both have baggage, have both been hurt. Which is why we need to be honest and open, we’re not kids anymore, are we?” When she shook her head he continued, “do you want to do this again? Go out again?”

                “I hope so Marc, and you’re right we should both be grown up over this. I do like you, but I need to be confident of everything before I get myself back into something more than dinner and a few laughs. And we both have the children to consider. They don’t need upheaval.”

                “I can understand that, and whilst I can tell you feel the same way about me, I can wait. But what I won’t do is sit around waiting on a whim. You owe me the truth…if I had my way…” he paused for a second. “No, you don’t want to know what I want.”

She blushed, “you are terrible.”

                “No I’m a healthy man with an appetite for nice things….and you fit that criteria!”

She shook her head, “I think it’s time to go!”           

He insisted on paying the bill, despite it being her invite, and she headed outside whilst he settled up. Catching up with her, he slid an arm around her shoulder, “have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

                “Not directly,” she smiled.

He turned her in his arms, and her heart started to race as he held her close, looking down at her intently.

                “Well you look beautiful, even though everything you wear is dark, and aimed to hide behind.” He pressed his lips against her forehead, “but I am convinced that one day, I’ll see you in something made to fit your curvy body.” He ran his hands down her spine and settled them on her bottom, goose bumps scorching her skin as his hands moved over it. “Because I think you’re perfect, and earlier I couldn’t stop thinking about you…and me.”

Then he kissed her, his mouth warm and soft, his tongue forceful, overpowering her, his teeth biting at her lip, sucking it into his mouth, the fingers of one hand caressing her cheek, tracing along her jaw to the nape of her neck, the other securing her pelvis into his. She shivered involuntarily at the sensations his hands were causing, not to mention his lips. All of a sudden the vision of him at the coffee shop with the blonde flashed into her mind. Pulling away she took a deep breath, “we should get going. Elsie likes me to get home by eleven.”

                “Not again! This is the cold wakeup call after kissing me like that?”

                “You kissed me!” She offered pulling away.

He held her tight to him, “if I thought for a minute that you found the idea of me and you repulsive I’d let you go, but I know you like me too. So I’ll put up with your nerves...for now!”

He led her to the car, and helped her in. She wanted to scream that he was too much for her, too experienced, too worldly, too sophisticated, she could never keep up with him and she could never be what he wanted her to be.

They drove home in a comfortable silence, a compilation of Indie music set a mellow mood in the background. As she followed his directions to the infamous mansion he’d inherited, they talked, infrequently.

She pulled onto the gravel drive in front of the house and he unclipped his seatbelt, then leaned towards her, talking very quietly. “I will be taking you out again, just like I will kiss you again.” He touched her face and pecked a kiss at her lips, “even if it takes me weeks!”

He opened the car door and got out, “I’ll speak to you soon, now I’m off for another cold shower!”