Don't Want To Miss A Thing (43 page)

‘He won’t mind.’ An idea popped into Molly’s head and she said, ‘Ooh, let me go and find something. Back in a sec.’

Upstairs, she rummaged through the top drawer of her bedside table, finally locating what she was searching for among a tangle of necklaces and other random items of jewellery.

Clattering back down the staircase, Molly said cheerfully, ‘Look at this, it’ll be perfect on the bracelet! I’ve always wanted an excuse to be able to wear it.’ Dropping the charm into Dex’s open palm, she watched him study the quirky little rose-gold frog on a shovel. ‘Isn’t it gorgeous? And they go so well together – it’s like they were made for each other.’

Then Dex raised his gaze and she saw the expression in his eyes. Did this mean he didn’t like it after all?

‘Where did you get this?’

‘Well, it was the weirdest thing. I found it. Guess where?’

He shook his head slightly. ‘No idea.’

‘In my coat pocket! In the pocket,’ Molly mimicked putting her hand into an imaginary pocket, ‘of my coat. Can you believe that? And I have no idea how it could have got there!’

Dex said, ‘I bought it for Laura.’

‘What?’

‘This charm.’ He was turning it over in his hand. ‘I bought it for her for Christmas, from an antiques shop in the Burlington Arcade.’

Molly stared at him, dumbfounded.

‘And she wore it on a bracelet? I mean, I did see her down here that one time . . . but—’

‘She didn’t wear it. I was planning to get her something else instead. It was in the pocket of my jacket . . . then it disappeared.’ He was frowning, struggling to remember more detail. ‘It just wasn’t there any more . . .’

Her heart gave a double-thud of realisation.

‘It was the night after Laura died,’ Molly exclaimed. ‘When you came into the café after my evening class had left. I made you a coffee, remember? Then I brought you back here and you ended up falling asleep on the sofa.’ Terrified that he might think she’d stolen it, she blurted out, ‘I didn’t take it out of your pocket, though, I promise!’

Dex broke into a smile. ‘I know that. Don’t worry, I wasn’t about to accuse you of theft. And I was pretty much in a state of shock that night. I can’t honestly remember a great deal about it. Except that it was hammering down with rain.’

‘OK, hang on. Let me just go through it.’ Molly closed her eyes in order to concentrate; with her artist’s eye for detail she was pretty good at recreating scenes in her mind. The weather had been horrendous that evening, the rain torrential. Dex had been wet and shivering, which was why she’d insisted he take his jacket off in the café. And she’d hung it next to the radiator, over a chair . . . The same chair over which her own coat had already been draped . . .

She opened her eyes and looked at Dex. ‘That night, did you take the charm out of your pocket while I was in the kitchen making you a drink?’

‘I don’t remember. Could have done. Hang on . . .’ the cogs in his mind were visibly clicking into place. ‘Yes . . . yes, I did. I did.’

Molly nodded slowly, relieved the mystery was solved. ‘Your jacket and my coat were both on the same chair. You took it out of your pocket and put it back in mine. That’s how it happened.’

He looked at the charm again. ‘And you’ve kept it ever since.’

‘I put notices up in the café to try and find out who’d lost it. And in the Swan and the village shop. But nobody ever came
forward. Well, you’ve got it back now. That’s brilliant, I’m so glad.’

‘Hey, I don’t want it back.’ Dex held the charm out to her. ‘What would I do with a frog on a shovel? Wear it as an earring? Come on, take it. It’s yours now.’ Placing it into her hand and folding her fingers closed, he said, ‘I think it’s great that it found you.’

They stood there for a long moment, facing each other, his warm hand enclosing hers. Molly concentrated on keeping her breathing under control; Dex couldn’t begin to imagine the effect he was having on her adrenalin production.

‘Dada . . .’ Delphi, her eyelids drooping, had clambered on to the sofa and was now ready for a nap. Pointing to the pashmina on the floor, she kicked her legs, shorthand for: pick that thing up and use it to cover me like a blanket while I sleep.

Dex did as he was instructed and Molly experienced an acute sense of loss when he let go of her hand. Honestly, talk about a hopeless case. Get a grip.

‘Have a sleep.’ Dex ruffled Delphi’s hair and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

‘’eep.’ Delphi stroked the edge of the pashmina against her cheek.

‘Do you think Amanda will like the painting?’ Molly’s heart ached as she said it. Who knew, maybe in a year’s time Dex might commission another portrait of the three of them together, himself and Amanda with Delphi between them, the perfect happy family.

When she turned to look at Dex, to see why he hadn’t replied, he said, ‘I’m not seeing Amanda any more.’

What
?

The words seemed to crackle in the air between them like electricity. Molly felt the tiny hairs quiver on the back of her neck. Her mouth dry, she said, ‘No?’

Dex shook his head. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘She wasn’t right.’

Oh, the inappropriate rush of relief. But also, poor Amanda. ‘When did this happen?’

‘I told her yesterday.’

‘And was she . . . upset?’

‘A bit. Only at first. She’ll be fine.’

‘But . . .’ Molly glanced over at Delphi, now sound asleep on the sofa; should she tell him? God, Amanda might have put on a brave face in front of him but she had to be devastated.

Dex said drily, ‘So you knew about that too.’

Yikes. ‘About what?’

‘You’re rubbish at trying to look innocent. Amanda not being able to have children.’ Dex half-smiled and said, ‘It’s not true, by the way. Turns out everyone in the village knew about it except Amanda.’

Was this how it felt to have an out-of-body experience? In the distance, Molly could hear him explaining how the misunderstanding had come about. The rest of her brain was digesting the fact that the couple were no longer a couple. Just last night she’d had a hideous dream that Dex and Amanda were getting married in the village church and the vicar had kept having to raise his voice so the vows could be heard above the sound of her own anguished sobbing. And now this. The relationship was over. Amanda wasn’t infertile. She was also out of the picture.

And I can’t feel my feet. Or my knees, come to that . . .

OK, awkward now. Dex had been talking and she’d missed it completely.

‘Sorry, what was that?’

‘I said, so there won’t be any more dinner parties. Not with
the four of us, at least.’ He shrugged. ‘Although if you and Vince wanted to take pity on me and invite me over for fish finger sandwiches I probably wouldn’t say no, what with being a desperate singleton and having no shame.’

It was as if someone had wrapped elastic bands around her throat. Molly swallowed with difficulty. ‘Um . . . I’m not seeing Vince any more either.’

Dex’s expression changed. He grew still. Finally he said, ‘You’re not?’

‘No.’ More elastic bands.

‘Since when?’

‘Since a couple of weeks ago. Before he left for Canada.’

Dex was now slowly shaking his head. ‘Why didn’t you say so before?’

‘I don’t know.’ Molly felt her cheeks heating up; it would hardly be appropriate to say, because you had Amanda. ‘Just seemed easier, I suppose.’

‘I wish you’d told me.’

‘Why?’

Silence. Her heart rate increased. Dex looked as if he was about to say something important. Then he exhaled and turned away. ‘No . . . just . . . you should have said.’ He swung round to check on Delphi, then distractedly raked his fingers through his hair and turned his attention back to the portrait on the easel.

Another silence. Protracted, bordering on embarrassing. Molly turned to look at the painting again too, zingily aware that they were now standing side by side, their arms just a couple of inches apart. If she moved hers now, maybe to casually rest her hand on her hip, skin-to-skin contact would be made.

No, stop that, don’t even think about it.

‘Which bit was the most difficult?’ Dex’s voice made her jump.

This. This is the most difficult bit, right here, right now.

‘To paint? Um . . . well, hands are always hard to get exactly right.’ To give her own hands something constructive to do, Molly reached out to indicate which part of the portrait she was referring to. Just in case he had no idea what hands looked like.

‘And getting the eyes right. That can’t be easy.’

‘No.’ Molly gazed into the painted eyes on the canvas, dark coffee-brown with even darker rims around each iris, glinting with amusement as they watched her in return. It had been quite a challenge, staring into those eyes for so long.

‘Teeth must be hard too,’ said Dex.

‘They are. That’s because they’re made of tooth.’ OK, that was just stupid. And looking at his painted mouth was getting her too flustered. Molly surveyed the shaded hollow at the base of his throat instead. While she’d been recreating it on the canvas, how desperately she’d longed to reach out, brush the tips of her fingers over the real hollow and feel the warmth of his skin. How she longed to do it now.

‘I wish you’d told me about Vince,’ he repeated.

Was the air in the room vibrating? It felt as if it was. Trying to breathe normally, Molly said again, ‘Why?’

But Dex shook his head. ‘Doesn’t matter. I just . . . oh God, this is crazy, I can’t believe I’m going to say it. The only reason I carried on seeing Amanda was because you were with Vince. And I know how that sounds, but it’s the truth. I knew he wasn’t right for you and it killed me, seeing you together . . . I was jealous, OK? I can’t help the way I feel and I know you aren’t interested in me . . . and I definitely know I shouldn’t be saying this now because I’m just making everything worse and last time I tried I made such a mess of it and it was all awkward for ages afterwards. So God only knows why I’m doing it again, but I
can’t carry on not saying it. Because it’s true. Oh shit, I’m sorry.’ He closed his eyes and half turned away, exhaling in despair. ‘I’m such an idiot . . .’

Molly didn’t speak. She couldn’t speak. She could barely think. Reaching out and pulling him back round, she took his face between her hands and kissed him full on the mouth. Gently at first, then harder as his arms came around her and every nerve ending in her body jangled with joy. Oh God, had anything ever felt so right?

Finally, out of breath and having completely lost track of time, she pulled back and looked at Dex. ‘Yes, you are an idiot. You could have told me all that stuff months ago. We could have been doing this months ago . . .’

‘But I tried,’ Dex reminded her. ‘You made it very clear you weren’t interested.’

This was true. She had.

‘That was then. You’re different now. Anyway,’ said Molly, ‘you were the one who told me about your track record with girls. I didn’t want to be just another of your quick flings . . . use once and throw away. OK, maybe months ago wouldn’t have worked,’ she conceded. ‘But weeks.’

Especially the last few. They’d been torture.

‘You don’t make things easy, do you?’ Dex smiled, then leaned forward and kissed her again. ‘Maybe we had to wait this long to get it right. God, I never thought I’d get another chance. Just being friends was killing me, it was like torture. But I had to keep telling myself it was better than nothing at all.’

The words were making her tremble. Molly held out her hand and said, ‘Look at me, I’m shaking.’

‘Because you’re scared?’ Dex took the hand and closed his fingers around hers. ‘I am too. I’ve never felt like this before. I
love you, Molly.’ His voice cracked with emotion as he uttered the words. ‘And just so you know, I’ve never said that to anyone before either. Because I’ve never felt it. Apart from Delphi,’ he amended. ‘But you . . . being with you . . . it’s just completely different. From the first day we met, when you threw that fish into my garden, I knew I liked you. But it’s gone on from there . . . grown . . . and now the thought of not having you around is . . . well, I just couldn’t bear it. I love you,’ he said the words again, almost in wonder. ‘And I mean it.’

He really did. Molly felt so happy she could burst. She wasn’t going to say it back, not just yet, but she already knew she loved Dex too. Was she taking a massive risk, getting emotionally involved with someone whose history was about as colourful as it was possible to get? Maybe, but it was a risk she was just going to have to take. Because there were no cast-iron guarantees in life anyway, were there? Look at Frankie’s husband Joe, officially the man least likely to cause you a moment’s worry.

‘The rest of the village is going to be disappointed when they get to hear about this.’ She wrapped her arms around Dex’s neck and breathed in the delicious scent of his skin. Now at last she could touch that hollow at the base of his throat.

‘Really? Why?’

‘They had you all paired up with Amanda, playing happy families.’

‘Oh, I’m sure they won’t mind. Anyway, speaking of families.’ In her ear, Dex murmured, ‘We appear to have timed this rather poorly.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Well, there’s only one thing I’d really like to be doing right now . . .’ He nodded at the sofa behind her and Molly, turning to look, saw that Delphi had woken up and was watching them
with interest. ‘But it seems we’re not going to be able to do it just yet.’

‘Babadadaca.’ Delighted to have attracted their attention, Delphi beamed and opened and closed one tiny hand at them.

‘Nature’s contraceptive.’ Dex’s dark eyes glittered playfully as he gave Molly’s waist a squeeze.

‘Never mind. It’s taken us all these months to get this far.’ Molly had never felt happier or more alive. Her skin had never felt more hypersensitive. Giddy with love and adrenalin, she said, ‘Always good to have something to look forward to.’

Dexter reached down to kiss her again, as Delphi clambered off the sofa and tottered towards them. His lips curving into a smile, he murmured, ‘Definitely. And it’ll be worth the wait.’

‘DADADA,’ Delphi bellowed, arms outstretched as she launched herself joyfully at his knees. ‘DAAAAAAAAH!’