Chapter 7

Neither of them had far to go but each of their minds was full.

Richard's head was whirling. She had kissed him. Not a peck on the cheek but a proper kiss on the lips. It hadn't been a peck on those either but a proper, intimate kiss. The fact that she had moved away before he had had time to react didn't matter at all. She liked him, really liked him. As for his feelings for her, the afternoon and evening had made her very, very much more attractive. Her eyes and mischievous sense of humour had invaded his mind originally. Now, he realised he was dealing with a highly intelligent and well-read woman with a wide range of interests.

"Cool it," he thought to himself. "She's very, very attractive but you need to get to know her a great deal better before you commit yourself. Why did she divorce? Why is she so protective of her daughter? She's bottling things up and until she comes clean you must not let yourself fall totally for her. And then there's Sharon. She has always promised to stand aside when you found someone but you can't just cast her off. Oh hell!"

Despite a happy afternoon and evening he went to bed disgruntled and had a disturbed night.

Deborah, on the other hand, was furious. Not with Richard but herself. How could she have lost her self-control and kissed him like that? It had been forward and could lead to all sorts of misunderstandings. What was he going to think of her? Probably not much as he hadn't tried to kiss her back. But then she hadn't really given him a chance and had caught him by surprise. Just as well or things might have got out of hand. But, as it was quite out of character, why had she done it? Impetuously and where they could be seen? She shuddered and then smiled to herself. Because I like him, she thought, and because I wanted to. Was it right to give in to spontaneity? Hmm!

"I wasn't all that spontaneous beforehand," she mused. "He told me quite frankly about his wife's death although I have a feeling he surprised himself. But then I told him nothing about my divorce or Annette. Why should I? I hardly know him. I do like him though. I like his strong, gentle face. I like his height and his slimness. He certainly keeps fit. I wonder if he goes to a gym. Or is he into martial arts? He has that sort of calmness about him. I wonder who that special friend is. Oh God! I find him attractive and amusing but I still don't know him and yet I go and kiss him. He didn't show any sign of wanting to kiss me but then he wasn't in a hurry to leave me. I wonder if he was shy?"

She did not sleep well either.

The following morning, with a strong cup of coffee under her belt, she decided she could not go on being indecisive and he had asked her to the theatre. So, before going to pick up Annette from her sleep-over, she rang her sister.

"Liz, that man we met on the walk the day I came to look at the Old Post Office..."

"Yes?"

"He's asked me to go to the theatre with him."

"Has he?"

"Yes!"

"Do you want to go?"

"Yes, that's why I'm ringing you."

"Why? Want a chaperone?"

"No!"

"Like that, is it?"

"Oh Liz, don't be tiresome. I wondered whether you would have Annette for the night."

"Planning on sleeping with him then?"

"Liz! I hardly know him but what I've seen of him I like. I can't ask him to include Annette and I can't leave her alone for the evening."

"OK, Deborah! When?"

"Whenever suits you. He hasn't got tickets yet so about ten days time I should think."

"OK, well Wednesday, Thursday or Friday are free. Let me know."

"Thanks, Liz. I'll get back to you."

"Is he nice?"

"Very. He thought you were very good looking too."

"Ho! A bit of a Don Juan?"

"Not at all. He also said you seemed a bit stuffy."

"What?"

"Well, those weren't his exact words," she chuckled.

"Hmph! OK, well you let me know."

"I will. Thanks, Liz."

She picked up the telephone directory to look up Richard's number. He was ex-directory.

"Damn!" she thought. "I'm not going round there. It's too soon and he'll think I'm being more forward than I was last night. Furthermore there'll be village chat. Oh well, I may meet him walking the dogs."

She did not or on Sunday. She was working all day Monday so it was not until Tuesday that she was able to do anything about it. Taking the CD of the girl in Yorkshire who had sung the Mozart Vespers she drove over mid-morning to Richard's house.

The front door was open so she stepped into the hall.

"Richard!" she called.

A dark haired woman with broad shoulders and piercing eyes appeared.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a slightly belligerent way.