You could choose something and have a drink while they cook it. It’ll take about twenty minutes, probably.’
And she could have a shower and change into something that didn’t smell of baby sick and nappy cream, and brush her hair and put on some make-up—No, no make-up, she didn’t want to look too desperate, but she could call Jane.
‘It’s a bit early. I could go later.’
‘Except the babies may wake later, and it’s easier to eat when they’re asleep. Besides, they only serve until nine, and anyway I’m starving. I forgot about lunch.’
Still he hesitated, but then he gave a curt nod, shrugged on his jacket and headed for the door. ‘What do you fancy?’
‘Anything. You know what I like.’
He sipped his beer morosely and stared at the menu.
Did he know what she liked? He used to think so. Skinny sugar-free vanilla lattes, bacon rolls, almond croissants, really bitter dark chocolate, steamed vegetables, pan-fried sea bass, a well-chilled Chablis, sticky-toffee pudding with thick double cream—and waking up on Sunday morning at home in their apartment and making love until lunchtime.
He’d known how to wring every last sigh and whimper out of her, how to make her beg and plead for more, for that one last touch, the final stroke that would drive her screaming over the edge.
‘Are you ready to order, sir?’
He closed his eyes briefly and then looked up at the pretty young waitress with what he hoped was something resembling a normal smile. ‘Um—yes. I’ll have the rib-eye steak, please—rare—and the—’ He hesitated. The pan-fried salmon, or the chicken breast stuffed with brie and pesto?
Then he remembered her saying she had chicken in the fridge. ‘I’ll have the salmon, please. And I’d like to take them away, if you can do that for me? I know you don’t usually, but we don’t have a babysitter and, well, it’s the closest we can get to going out for dinner. I’ll drop the plates back tomorrow.’ This time the smile was better, less jerky and awkward, and she coloured slightly and smiled back.
‘I’m sure we can do that for you, sir,’ she said a little breathlessly, and he hated himself for the little kick of pride that he could still make the girls go silly with a simple smile.
‘Oh, and could I have a look at the wine list? I’d like to take a couple of bottles home, if I may?’
‘Of course, sir. I’ll take this to the kitchen and bring the wine list back to you.’
She was back with it in moments, and he chose a red and a white, paid the bill and settled back to wait.
Funny. This time yesterday he would have been too busy to wait for his food. He would have had it delivered. Even if they didn’t deliver, he would have had it delivered, because everything had a price. You just had to pay enough.
But tonight, after he’d made a couple of phone calls and checked his email on his BlackBerry ® Smartphone, he was glad just to sit there in the busy pub, which was more of a restaurant than a watering hole, and take time out from what had been probably the most momentous day of his life. Unless…
But he didn’t want to think about that other day, so he buried the thought and tapped his fingers and waited…
‘That was lovely. Thank you, Max. It was a really nice idea.’
‘Was it all right? My steak was good, but I knew you wouldn’t want that, and I thought the fish was safe, but I didn’t know if you’d want a pudding.’ He frowned. ‘I realised I didn’t know what you would want.’
She felt the smile coming and couldn’t stop it. ‘You aren’t alone. I often don’t know what I want.’
One brow flew up in frank disbelief. ‘Are you telling me you’ve become indecisive?’
She laughed at that. ‘I’ve always been indecisive if it affects me personally. I’ve just trained myself to remember that I’m going to eat it, not marry it, so it really doesn’t matter that much. Well, not with food, anyway. Other things—well, they’re harder,’ she admitted slowly.
His eyes turned brooding as he studied her. ‘Is that why you didn’t contact me? Because you couldn’t decide if it was the right thing to do?’
She looked down, guilt and remorse flooding her.
‘Probably. But you just wouldn’t listen, so there didn’t seem to be any point in trying to talk to you—and you hadn’t tried to talk to me, either.’
He sighed shortly. ‘Because I told you to get in touch when you wanted me.’ He paused, then added, ‘The fact that you didn’t…’
She nearly let that go, but in the end she couldn’t. There was just something in his eyes she couldn’t ignore. ‘I nearly did. So many times. But I told myself that if you were prepared to listen, to talk about it, you’d ring me. And you didn’t.’
‘I tried. I couldn’t get you. Your number was blocked and I had no idea why.’
‘My phone was stolen. But that wasn’t till June! So you didn’t try for nearly six months, at least.’
He looked away, his jaw working, so she knew before he spoke that she was right. ‘I was waiting for you to call me. I thought, if I gave you space—and when you didn’t call a bit of me thought, to hell with you, really. But then I couldn’t stand it any longer—the uncertainty. Not knowing where you were, what you were doing. It was killing me. So I called, and then I couldn’t get you. And you weren’t spending any money, you weren’t using your account.’
‘John pays my living expenses and runs the car.’
‘Very generous,’ he growled.
‘He is. He’s a nice man.’
His jaw clenched at that—at the thought of another man supporting her. Well, tough. He’d get over it. It was only a job.
‘He’s been marvellous,’ she went on, turning the screw a little further. ‘He was really understanding when the babies were born, and he got a friend to stay until I was able to come home.’
‘Home?’
She smiled at him wryly. ‘Yes, home. This is home for us—for now, anyway.’ She didn’t tell him that John was returning soon and she’d have to find somewhere else. Let him think everything was all right and there was no pressure on her, or he’d use it to push her into some kind of reconciliation, and she wasn’t buying that until she was sure he was ready for it. If ever.
‘That’s when my phone was stolen, in the hospital, and I reported it and had the card blocked. But Jane gave me her old pay-as-you-go to use for emergencies, so I cancelled the contract. There didn’t seem to be any point in paying an expensive tariff when most of the time I’m at home with the babies and I’ve got the landline.’
‘And you didn’t think to give me either of those numbers?’
She laughed a little bitterly. ‘What, because you’d phoned me so regularly over the previous six months?’
His jaw clenched. ‘It wasn’t that. I told myself you’d contact me if you wanted me. I made myself give you space, give you time to sort out what you wanted. You said you needed time to think, but then I wondered how much time it could possibly take. If you needed that much, then we probably didn’t have anything worth saving in your eyes, and I was damned if I was going to weaken and call you. But then when I couldn’t get hold of you I got a PI on the job—’
‘A PI!’ she exclaimed, her guilt and sympathy brushed aside in an instant as her anger resurrected itself. ‘You’ve had someone spying on me?’
‘Because I was worried sick about you! And, anyway, how the hell do you think I found you? Not by accident, all the way out here.’
‘Well,