Escape to the Cotswolds. Natalie Kleinman
for the lounge furniture, which went so well with the house. Even the threadbare patches on the arms of the period-looking couch added a certain charm.
‘I saw some of your work while we were in the studio, Holly, and in the dining room. I have to say I’m very impressed! Did they give you any idea how long you might have to wait for permission to come through?’
‘I think it’ll be several weeks yet but I’m keen to get the classes up and running before then if I can.’
Gordon, an attentive listener, put his arm along the back of the sofa and started running his fingers through her hair. Well, he tried to, but it was so unruly he got caught up in a tangle of curls and, instead of reducing her to jelly as he’d so obviously planned, he reduced her to giggles instead.
‘Hang on. You’re going to spill that all over your lap,’ Gordon said, rescuing the glass from her unsteady fingers. He leaned across her to put it on the coffee table then turned his face towards her, close to hers. She stopped giggling. Well, she didn’t think it would be polite while he was kissing her. He was very gentle and it was a very nice kiss, and she hadn’t been kissed in a long, long time. He drew back, his face just inches away, his eyes holding hers. ‘Holly, I …’ And that’s when panic set in and she moved back. She wasn’t ready for this. Gordon leaned in again.
Sheer force of will enabled her to slide out of his embrace and away from the sofa. In spite of the amount of wine she’d consumed she was suddenly stone-cold sober and her thoughts were as clear as a crisp morning. But her face was on fire. She raised her hands to burning cheeks.
‘Gordon, I’m sorry. I can’t do this. It’s too soon. I hardly know you.’
He smiled and stood in front of her, a square man, large and reassuring, his hands taking hold of hers.
‘I know. It’s crazy. And you’re right, of course.’
He released his grip and raised his arms, cupping her face, forcing her to look straight at him.
‘But magic has happened here this evening, Holly. Magic doesn’t happen often, does it?’ He gripped her chin with a finger and thumb. ‘People shouldn’t fly in the face of magic, should they? But neither should they abuse it. We won’t abuse it. We’ll nurture it. Don’t look so worried, Holly. We can wait. I can wait.’
And he did – but not before he’d kissed her again and held her close. Gently, oh so gently, but she could feel the passion raging within him, a passion she didn’t share.
‘Sit down, Holly. Sit down and finish your wine. I’ll do the washing up and make coffee.’
She realised she must have fallen asleep, because she woke up on the sofa early next morning, covered with a duvet and with a crick in her neck – and alone. Inexplicably a vision of Adam’s face swam before her. It surprised her and she dismissed it, trying instead to conjure up a picture of Gordon – and failing.
It had been a fabulous evening. In a way she was sorry it had ended as it did but she was frightened too by the intensity of Gordon’s feelings, feelings that her own emotions didn’t reflect. She wasn’t yet ready to jump.
Holly found a note from Gordon on the kitchen table. ‘Can’t believe I’ve just spent an evening with six-year-old twins and had such a great time. The rest wasn’t bad either! Call you later.’
Pouring soya milk onto her muesli Holly realised she was humming to herself. Romance hadn’t figured in her life for quite a while and Gordon was behaving in a very romantic way. She asked herself why she’d really held back last night but she knew the answer. She was terrified. Couples seemed to jump into bed together at the drop of a hat these days. She’d been off the market for such a long time she didn’t know the rules any more.
‘Magic’ Gordon had said. She’d felt something too but she wasn’t at all sure it was magic. She didn’t know what it was. The joy of being desired? The freedom of being able to respond if she chose to do so? And was it real, what Gordon had said, or was it just a chat-up line? And why on earth was it Adam’s face she’d seen when she woke up!
Holly decided to take a day off and went exploring instead. Her walks so far had mostly taken her through the village when she’d been staying with Emma and Tom. This time she went in the other direction. The only time she’d come this way was the day she’d bumped into Adam. She’d been driven along that stretch of road before and it didn’t look very interesting, or at least not as far as she could see. But as she couldn’t see all that far she decided she wasn’t really being fair. So off she went, bottle of water and apple in her backpack.
Beyond where she’d rummaged that first time it was actually quite pretty. The rivers diverged fairly quickly, one sweeping dramatically away from the road and the other, a much narrower body of water, following the black tarmac ribbon. She stayed with the road till she noticed a footpath between the trees and the river so she headed for that instead.
‘Oh, this is brilliant,’ she said aloud, her voice resonating. Embarrassed, she peeped over her shoulder to make sure there was no one else around. She didn’t usually talk to herself. The river looked really lovely here, not deep and with overhanging branches, and she could see tiny fish sparkling in the water. A flash of electric blue and orange streaked by at lightning speed and the only thing she could be sure of was that it was a bird. She had no idea what she’d just seen but she resolved to search for a book that would identify not just this little wonder, but all the others she could see flitting in and out of the trees.
Holly was fast coming to realise that this peaceful countryside was in fact far from serene. The almost constant birdsong, the trickling of the water, and the wind whispering through the branches all added to the volume, but the noises were very soothing. London with its totally different sounds seemed a very long way away.
She hadn’t gone very far when the character of the river changed. There were small boulders here and there – well, large stones really – the shallow water foaming as it splashed over them. Then she heard a new sound. Something was whimpering and, a few yards ahead and nearer to the opposite bank, she saw a dog with its front paw apparently caught between two rocks.
Now Holly knew animals about as well as she knew birds, but this one was obviously in trouble. She tried to use some of the larger rocks as stepping stones as she crossed the river towards the dog, but still managed to get one foot very wet. She couldn’t quite believe just how cold the water was.
As she approached he waved his tail, something she recognised as a sign of welcome, so she moved towards him confidently; but if he thought she could do anything to help he was sadly mistaken.
‘Hello, boy. You are in a pickle, aren’t you?’
Big brown eyes looked trustingly into hers. She found on closer inspection that his paw was entangled in fishing wire, which was also wrapped around a large stone. Holly tried to untangle the wire, both from the dog and the stone, but she didn’t have any scissors and the line remained firmly fixed. Not only that but, when she tried to ease his leg out of its trap, though the flag at one end continued to wave, there was a definite rumble coming from the throat at the other.
Holly realised she was causing even more pain and she didn’t have a clue what to do. She stepped onto the bank and pulled off her backpack. Emma’s number was stored in her mobile and she prayed for an answer.
‘Emma, I don’t know what to do. I just came out for a walk and now I’ve found a dog and it’s trapped and …’
‘Slow down, Holly, and start at the beginning. I missed half of that.’
So slow down she did and, because she’d kept to the river path, she had no trouble telling Emma exactly where she was.
‘I’ll get Adam down there as soon as I can. Just stay there and try to keep him calm so he doesn’t damage himself trying to pull his foot out.’
Emma