Chapter 10

When Gillian and I left the Rectory, something had changed. Well, duh. Of course something had changed. It’s just, everything looked the same. Then Gillian slipped her hand into mine. We walked like that for a few minutes before she said anything and when she did it was, “Is this okay, Rick?”

I stopped abruptly and she didn’t realise immediately, so took another step before our linked hands stopped her. “It’s okay. Weird, but okay.”

“Weird? Why weird?” I couldn’t quite make out her tone of voice. Was she cross? Upset? Disappointed?

“Yeah. I mean, I like you. I like you a lot, and I’ve really enjoyed doing things with you. Karen is a delight and a joy. I didn’t want to lose your friendship, which is why I came to see you.” We began walking again.

“But?” Her grip on my hand loosened a little and moved in that way which says, ‘I think I’d like you to let go of my hand, please.’ I didn’t let her go. “You’re a lady, Gillian. We’re not supposed to think in terms of social class these days, but you represent, to me, all sorts of things that put you out of my reach. You’re elegant, and dress well – I suppose, expensively – your make-up is always perfect, like your hair. It’s, well, intimidating.”

We walked on for quite a while until I became aware that she was shaking, and a little of the movement was transmitted through her hand. I glanced at her to see she was laughing, though she was trying to suppress it.

“Something’s funny?” I must have sounded grumpy, because her face twisted as she tried to cover her amusement.

She couldn’t, though, and she began to laugh out loud. Then it was my turn to try to disengage my hand, and it was her turn to hang on to mine. “Oh, Rick...” giggle, “you don’t...” chortle, “understand...” snort, “women.”

I dare say I looked ... miffed is the best word I can come up with. She sniggered a little more, then grabbed my head in both hands and dragged it down so she could kiss me.

Well, at that point we were in the High Street and there were other people about. So not only were we engaged in a very obvious public display of affection, but we were blocking the pavement. Someone cleared their throat, loudly, right behind me and I jerked up, breaking the lip-lock. When I looked round, there was a very large lady, dressed in a severe, dark blue two-piece suit. It would have been intimidating had she not been wearing a slight smile. We moved aside. “Perhaps we should go and eat that lunch you promised,” I suggested.

“Perhaps we should.” Her fingers twined with mine again and we set off once more.

At her house I followed her through into the kitchen. “Rice, pasta or potatoes?”

Such a mundane question after the morning we’d had was calming – reassuring, in a way. “Don’t mind. You know what spices went into it.”

She nodded. “Pasta, then. Spaghetti, fusilli, linguine?”

I remembered a humorous story about a visit to a very upmarket hotel and smiled. “Spaghetti, I think, please.”

“Good.” She set about boiling a pan of water and measured out spaghetti.

“What about Karen?”

“Hmm?”

“Karen.”

“Oh – Karen. She has a school dinner. She won’t want more than a sandwich this evening. I’m glad you’re here to help me eat this. Usually I put quite a lot in the freezer for another time. Today – I hoped you’d still want to come back here.”

She dumped spaghetti in the boiling water and set a timer.

“I’m not likely to turn down a home-cooked meal,” I smiled. She looked round, her expression clearly saying, ‘Really?”

“Okay,” I capitulated. “When I first came down here I would have ducked any social invitation from any stranger. But Karen stole my heart. Then ... then I realised you were a part of things too. Something in you called to me, even as part of me resisted.”

After a short silence, Gillian drained the spaghetti and ladled meat sauce over it before placing a plate in front of me, along with a fork and spoon. “Good,” she said.

I went with her to pick Karen up from school. Karen came straight to me and lifted her hands in a demand to be picked up. When I did so, she hugged my neck and kissed my cheek. “Thank you for coming with Mummy to collect me,” she smiled.

“I’m always pleased to see you, Sweetie.”

She squeezed my neck for several seconds and I hugged her back. “Are you coming home with us?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes!” She let go, and I lowered her the few inches necessary to the ground. “Mum, can Mister Rick come home with us?”

Gillian was smiling. “If he wants to, of course. Rick – would you like to join us for a sandwich?”

“Absolutely.”

We walked back to their house, Karen holding my hand, where Karen asked me to explain fractions to her. It had been quite a long time, but I found I was able to do a competent job. Karen lit up with excitement when the concepts clicked for her. After eating our evening meal – wholemeal bread, lettuce, tomato, cucumber and corned beef – I was persuaded to read to her.

“I’m sure you can read very well yourself,” I prevaricated.

She smiled a heart-melting smile. “Of course I can. But I’d really like to hear you read to me.”

How could I refuse?

Two chapters of ‘Swallows and Amazons’, and I thought she was asleep, so I closed the book and stood.

“Thank you, Mister Rick,” she said, eyes still closed. “I love you,” she added.

“I love you too, Karen,” and I dipped to kiss her forehead, then went downstairs to be met by her mother.

“Tea, Rick? You don’t need to rush off?”

“Lovely.”

Earl Grey tea, Boccherini and sitting together on the sofa, our lips drawn together by some sort of magnetism. Sighs from both of us.

“Rick?”

“Uh huh.”

“Is it all right, I mean, is it okay ... to love you?”

I drew back slightly and looked at her pretty face, marred only by a slightly anxious expression, framed by a cap of soft fair hair.

“Oh, yes. Very okay. I’ve been worried, you know. I didn’t want to spoil anything. But I can say, ‘I love you’ too, now.”

Which led to another hour or so of kissing and snuggling.

Until I drew back and sighed, “I need to go, Gillian dear.”

“Um ... would you like to stay?” The anxious expression was back.

I hesitated. “Well, dear, I’d love to stay, but I think I ought to go back to Tranquillity. I want to be sure we both want the same thing and, if you’re sure this isn’t a temporary thing then ... well ... we can decide what we want to do.”