Chapter 25

Throughout that week, Stan kept trying.

"Anne, I really would like to talk about what happened. There's no need to throw everything away."

Anne turned to look at him.

"Stan, I'm not buying what you're peddling. You said you weren't ready for Denise, but you were, all the time. I don't really know what you thought you had with me, but I know what I thought it was. You said the right things, but your behaviour on Monday night showed something different to your words. You went beyond caring for a friend, Stan. Perhaps you ought to be mending fences with Denise, not me."

Of course, that wasn't really possible. Denise was obviously seeing Tom, and continued to be upset with Stan. When she saw Stan, Denise was cold and she turned away from him at every opportunity. That she was still with Tom was amply demonstrated to Stan on Thursday afternoon when Denise's cell phone bleeped during a discussion they were having about the documentation project.

"Ooh. It's from Tom!" she cried, gladly. "Wait a moment..."

Her thumb danced a jig over the keys for a few seconds, then she closed her phone with a flourish and dropped it back into her purse.

"We're going out again tomorrow night!" she told Stan, with more than a hint of challenge. Stan had learned - he kept his opinion behind his teeth.

However, by Thursday night Anne was feeling fairly miserable herself. She finally admitted to herself that she had, perhaps, over-reacted a touch.

So, she phoned him, at home.

"Stan? Hi, it's Anne," she said as soon as he picked up the receiver.

"Hi, Anne! How are you?" came from the other end. 'Great, ' she thought, irritably, 'he only saw me a few hours ago, he knows how I am.'

But aloud she replied, "I'm fine, Stan. Actually, I want to talk to you. You've been bugging me all week, and, well, I might have gone a bit far. Can you come over now?"

"Of course, Anne, I'll be there in a few minutes."

The phone went dead and Anne put a pot of coffee on.

Stan was true to his word and was at Anne's door in a remarkably short time.

Anne opened the door to find Stan there, looking damp and a little dishevelled. "Come in! Come in!" she urged him. Before closing the door she checked - it wasn't raining.

"You caught me just out of the shower," he told her in response to her quizzical look. "I didn't want to wait any longer than I absolutely had to, so I just threw clothes on and came straight over."

Sure enough, he had odd socks on. Anne couldn't help but grin.

"Sit down there and have a drink. I'm going to wait for the coffee to finish filtering, but you'd better have something now and warm up!"

Anne quickly grabbed a towel for his hair and fetched a drink for him — Glenmorangie with a separate glass of water. A few moments later they were comfortably seated next to one another on the sofa. Anne took the lead...

"Stan, I think I over-reacted on Monday. I think I saw just how much you obviously felt for Denise, and it caught me. I just didn't know how to react to something like that. I haven't had a 'Love Rival' since I was a teenager, and I'd lost out every time back then, and... well it frightened me."

"I understand, Anne. But to be honest the whole thing surprised me, too. It seemed as if it were happening to someone else, and I wasn't in control any more. It just... happened, and I... I was a spectator."

After Anne brought their coffee, they sat in silence thinking about what they'd done. Stan sipped his coffee, then continued, "I'm not very good at talking about things, Anne. So please, if this doesn't come out in a way you can understand, tell me before you turn on me, huh?"

Anne smiled. "Okay! I'll give you a warning."

"I was wrong, Anne. I was wrong all along, but I didn't realize the depth of the feeling I had, or even understand what it was. Me and Denise, I mean. She... I... We..."

He looked down, unable to continue. Anne laid her hand on his. Stan looked up again, and she held his gaze.

"Stan, it's all right, just think first and say it."

"I think I do love her, Anne. But I really, really love you, too. I don't think I understand that."

Anne gave him her slightly crooked grin, and said, "I don't either, Stan, it's something we'll have to work out. But first we have to look after our own relationship." She paused a second.

"Do you love me, Stan?"

She held his eyes. He answered with a catch in his voice, "Y-yes, Anne, I love you, I love you deeply..."

"Right. I love you right back, Stanley Hinch. So, no matter what else, we can always come back to that and work from there, okay?"

Stan took her hand and squeezed it. "Always, Anne. Always!"

Again, Anne took the lead — she moved to him, put one hand behind his head, and drew him into a kiss. It wasn't a fiery, sexual kiss, but there was depth of feeling there, of that there was no doubt at all.

Anne went into the kitchen to fetch herself a glass of wine, then sat back down. Anne shifted, and Stan moved, and they found themselves with her head on his belly, he half reclined, leaning against the corner of the sofa, she lying full out with her feet dangling over the other end.

They talked about this and that, skirting carefully around the minefield of Denise, each occasionally shifting the bare minimum to reach for her glass of wine or his scotch. Anne made a long arm and found the remote control for her stereo and turned on some music, it didn't really matter what it was, just something in the background. At some point she got up and brought the bottles in from the kitchen. They talked on, mostly about completely inconsequential things until the wee hours of the morning. Stan noticed that Anne's breathing had become slow and regular and felt his own eyes insisting on drooping.

Anne woke up feeling cold. For a moment she wondered where she was, then worked it out - on her sofa, with her man. Stan had fallen asleep with one hand gently curled around a breast, and Anne smiled. But her feet had gone really cold, and she had to move, it was already light outside. She glanced at her watch. 'Six in the morning, that must be early morning twilight, ' she thought.

Anne carefully removed Stan's hand from its resting place and twisted and rolled until she was sitting up. She rubbed her calves, got the circulation going again and endured the pain as the feeling started to come back while she recovered.

Anne stood and hobbled upstairs fetching a blanket. Carefully lifting his feet up onto the sofa, she picked up the blanket and draped it over Stan's still recumbent form. He was snoring softly, and she smiled, tenderly. She had plenty of time to get herself ready, and she could let Stan sleep a while longer. Besides, she just wanted to watch him.

Stan woke up when he was shaken. He opened his left eye and peered to see who, what, where...

"Oh! Hi, Anne. We must've fallen asleep... what time is it?"

"It's a quarter to seven, Stan. You'd better get yourself together and run home to get changed for work."

Stan's eyes tracked, following his nose. He found coffee sitting on the table in front of the sofa, and he took a sip, gradually coming to full awareness.

"Gah! I'm stiff and sore and I feel like I've gone 15 rounds, but I also feel better, inside." He reached up for her with his free hand, and the two exchanged a loving kiss.

"Anne, you've no idea how much..."

"Hush now Stan, later. Later. Now, you've got to drink your coffee and get home. I'll see you at lunch-time, we can skip out and talk. I let you sleep, but now you've got to get moving."

Anne got up and went into the kitchen. Stan admired her as she walked away. She wore one of her wraparound skirts, but instead of her body language repelling, now it invited, even as she walked away.

Stan looked at his watch again, gulped coffee down, and stood. He followed Anne into the kitchen, clasped his hands together around her waist from behind and snuggled into the back of the tall blonde's neck.

"Hmm. Thank you, Anne. Thank you!"

"Go on, Stan. Go. I'll see you at work," she said, softly. She turned within his embrace and kissed him. "Go!"

Stan went.

That day at work was a blur to Stan. Elizabeth had the day off, so Stan had to confide in Bob the reason for his good humour.

He met Anne in reception at lunchtime, and they just went for a walk in the grounds, hand in hand, chatting. Anne pointed out a pathway that neither had explored, and the two went along it, to find themselves in a clearing among the trees and bushes of the extensive grounds belonging to The Firm.

"I've not walked through here before, Stan. Have you?" Anne asked.

"No, I don't think so," Stan replied. "It's not natural, though. I wonder what it is?"

"It's an auld formal garden. Musta' belonged to the original soite owners many a year ago."

The two spun at the unexpected voice.

It was Ted, the groundskeeper.

"Oh, hi, Ted. Didn't see you there!" Stan said.

"Oi gathered that," Ted answered in his slow Suffolk accent. "I was just clearing up over y'ere," pointing to one side, where a pile of early autumn leaves were gathered, "when I 'eard you comin'."

"What did you say this place was?" asked Anne.

"It used to be a formal garden, like Oi sayed. The grounds y'ere used to belong to the old Clifford Manor House, but it all got sold orf years ago. This would've been part of the old gardens."

When Stan looked, he could see the layout. As they walked around, Ted pointed out where the old flowerbeds and walkways were. "It must be over 50 years since anyone's done anything here. One day, when I get time, I want to have a run at this, but for now all I can do is tidy it."

Anne thanked Ted, and the two lovers walked slowly back towards the main building. As they left the clearing Anne looked back. She grabbed Stan's hand again, and they walked on, lost in each other.