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Authors: Connie Monk

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BOOK: Full Circle
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With his foot hard down on the accelerator, Leo headed home. He felt almost lightheaded, but determined, driven by feelings he couldn't control. He'd park a little further up the lane so that he could surprise her. She was sure to be gardening, probably with the lengthening rays of the sun warm on her. He was sure that behind the never altering manner of ‘just good friends' there must be moments when she'd read his thoughts – read them and let hers follow where his own led. Well, today he would tell her the truth – that he wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman. She would remind him that Bella was her friend, but surely she would understand that what he felt for Bella was something quite different. He would always be fond of her, but there was no fire in his love for her, and none in hers for him. Was that what marriage should be? It couldn't be enough that she never refused him? Imagine if it were Louisa, strong, tall, long limbed, honest, uninhibited (how could he be so sure? And yet he had no doubt – he saw it in her every movement). Bella doesn't come into it; I'll never let her down. The miles slipped by. Sometimes two people are made for each other; surely that's how it is for Louisa and me. This must have been how Dad felt – and it worked well. Mum had the husband she wanted, but Dad and Violet were one of those rare couples – they belonged together. Nothing to do with marriage; they simply existed for each other. And that's how it could be for Louisa and me. So his thoughts went as he came towards Lexleigh. He didn't ask himself what made him so certain it was the same for her, for there was no logic in his certainty.

Instead of parking at her gate he stopped nearer the start of the village High Street meaning to walk to the house, subconsciously feeling that an occasion such as this demanded an element of surprise. But in the event the surprise was his. Approaching the gate he could hear voices, Louisa's and a man's. He slowed his step, trying to recognize whose it was, but he had no idea. Through a thin patch of the hedge he could see the two of them leaning over the garden table where they were reading something. He couldn't hear what was said, and to say they were laughing would be an exaggeration, but their tone told him they were enjoying themselves. The young man was writing on the paper spread out before them. Louisa said something that seemed to give them pause for thought before the conversation went on. Leo felt shut out, a sensation new to him. He told himself he ought to walk in. On any other occasion that's what he would have done but this, of all times, should have been so different. This evening was to have been like none before it.

He turned round and walked back towards High Street, where he bought cigarettes before returning to the waiting car. This time he didn't attempt to stop at The Retreat, nor even to glance as he drove past before turning into the lane leading to the farm. The timing was bad, for just at that moment the young man reversed his car out of Louisa's side entrance then, seeing Leo turning into the lane, pulled back into her garden to give room to let the car pass.

Trying to appear disinterested, Leo raised a hand in casual greeting to Louisa, who was seeing her guest off. In fact, he also had a good look at the visitor, a young man with curly red hair and a cheery voice, who in farewell to her called, ‘Till tomorrow then, a bit before eleven.'

Five

Making the most of the fading light, Louisa strolled the length of the field-like strip. In her imagination she was seeing it as Hamish McLaren had drawn in his sketch, right down to the group of fruit trees he suggested planting in a mini-orchard at the far end. She had been surprised that the transformation they planned wasn't going to cost her more and she had a suspicion that he wanted to do it for his own sake as much as for hers. More than once he had referred to how he had seen the neglected plot when he'd been a child, even going to the length of peering through a thin patch in the hedge, always hoping someone would have started working on it. He was as keen as she was herself for the work to begin and had promised to bring his equipment over the following morning, which was Friday, and work the whole day on Sunday. At that stage there would be nothing she could do to help him, but she offered to prepare food. Looking back at his visit it struck her, as it hadn't at the time, how unlike a business visit it had been. Nine hours ago she hadn't even met him and yet it had been like two friends planning an adventure. But of course that was ridiculous, she told herself sensibly; she was his client so naturally he made himself as pleasant as he could. She wished Leo had gone past just a few minutes later, say as Hamish had disappeared up the road and she had been fastening the side gate. Then he would have stopped and she could have told him everything that was planned. He had never been interested in her plan to turn the wilderness into a garden, but then he had known it for so many years and always in the same miserable state (for by that time she had forgotten how pleased she had been with her meagre splash of annual colour last summer).

It would soon be dark; she had better go back indoors. Normally the house welcomed her and she was never lonely, but that evening she felt like an outcast from the human race. It must be the contrast with this afternoon, she told herself. We didn't talk about ourselves at all, so I've no idea if he has a wife at home. And Leo, he will be sitting talking to Bella and his father, telling them about his day as they have dinner. It wasn't like Louisa to feel sorry for herself, but as she ate her solitary ham salad meal she was in the mood to look facts in the face. Thirty-one years old, and alone – alone in the way that matters. And it does matter, if I have the courage to be honest; it always did, but never as much as now, now that I know Leo. And that's dreadful. It's humiliating. Leo's a friend, and that's all he can ever be. She knew what was developing between them, but when she was with him she always pushed those thoughts aside – was determined to. Now her thoughts turned to the evening ahead. What shall I be doing? I shall be imagining the joy of lying close to someone who loves me and who shares my life. But there is no one. It's the same here as it was in Reading, except that I am older and with each month I slip further into the realization that my destiny is to be alone, finding my own way to quieten the aching longing. If it were just that, I wouldn't be haunted by shame. But I can't hold my thoughts in check. Each time I pretend it's
him
. And then it's awful, the shame, the self-disgust – not for doing what I do, but for pretending it's Bella's husband. Dear Bella. Lucky Bella, she's the mother of the child who casts a spell on him, and rightly so. Alicia is sweet – pretty, too – but with the parents she has she is bound to be. I've seen him with her; I've seen the look on his face. How proud Bella must be.

Her thoughts died even as they were born as she recognized footsteps coming towards her back door. As Leo came in she felt he must know from looking at her just where her imagination had been taking her even as he opened her front gate.

‘You're a late visitor.' She made sure that her tone was casual. ‘But I'm glad you've come. I have lots to tell you. It's been quite a day.'

‘You're going to tell me who your friend was and satisfy my curiosity? Or tell me it's not my business, perhaps?'

She reached to pull another chair towards the kitchen table where she had been eating her salad.

‘Here, look at the plan. The man you saw keeps McLaren Gardens. He's coming to work a miracle on my piece of scrubland. Nothing less than a miracle will make a garden of it. What do you think?'

He pushed the plan to one side and, taking her by surprise, grasped her hand. ‘I think I can't go any longer without saying – oh, God, I'm no good at this sort of thing. Don't you know why I come here every minute, every second that I can? It's because I can't keep away. Sometimes I think what's happened to me has happened to you too.' Then, his unusually serious expression changing as the more familiar impish smile tugged the corner of his mouth. ‘Don't sit with your mouth open – you look like a guppy fish.'

She laughed. She wanted to shout for joy. Then, just as suddenly, the wonder of what he was saying was lost. ‘We mustn't, Leo. We can't. Yes, it's happened to me. I think of you every waking hour, I can't sleep for – for—'

‘For wanting me, like I want you.'

‘Leo, I've never felt like this in my life. There has never been anyone for me until I met you.' She was talking softly, each syllable clear as if to stress the importance of what she said. ‘But you are Bella's husband; Bella is faithful and adores you. We can't take what we want without hurting her. Bella is my friend, and your wife. We can't do it.' For a second or two neither spoke, then she said in a voice that refused to stay as calm and clear, ‘But with all my heart – with all that I am – I wish it were different.'

‘I hear what you say,' he said softly, still holding both her hands, ‘and if you thought differently you wouldn't be the woman I love. But Bella doesn't come into this – she won't get hurt. She is my wife and that's how she will remain. If she were different I would want us to give her grounds to divorce me, but Bella is a hundred per cent good and we can neither of us do that to her. Perhaps it's this house that casts a spell. Didn't we say that ages ago, the first time we met? Remember? My father and your aunt were meant for each other, just as we are. Yet my parents lived a normal home life. Mum must have realized, but the home was a happy one. I never heard them quarrel. I think perhaps she was relieved to think he looked elsewhere for something he couldn't find in her. Except for the fact that Bella is extraordinarily lovely to look at, she and Mum are very similar. They are born to create comfort in the home and security for the family; it's what makes their lives satisfying. I'm at fault just as my father was, but love overrides everything.'

The first wild joy had faded when faced with the reality of the situation. They sat in silence at the kitchen table, the grip of his hands not loosening, neither of them speaking and the only sound the ticking of the old-fashioned school clock on the wall.

At last it was Louisa who broke the silence, her voice warning him that tears were fighting to gain the upper hand.

‘It was such an exciting day. I wanted to share it with you.' It was a childish thing to say and she felt ashamed, yet she grasped at any excuse for tears rather than face the truth. But it was no use. ‘I haven't cried for years. Why now, when I ought to be happy?' She wiped the palms of her hands across her face, smearing her mascara and not caring. ‘You've just told me the thing I wanted to hear more than anything in the world, and I sit here behaving like a five-year-old.'

Leo got up from his chair and, pulling her to her feet, forced her to meet his gaze as he drew her into his arms.

‘Darling, darling Louisa,' he whispered, moving his chin on her head. ‘We could both cry for the moon but it would still be out of our reach. We have to take what life offers. Forget tomorrow – forget everything except that now at last we are honest with each other. I swear I have never felt for a living soul as I do for you. We can never be together as we want, but what we have this evening is more than we've ever had before. Friendship, yes, and that is still as precious; but now we have no secrets, we know that it can't be enough.' Again there was silence as the clock ticked on. She raised her face to his; her lips parted. And then it happened. His mouth covered hers and all her restraint was gone. Clinging to him and following instinct she moved her mouth on his; he felt her tongue on his lips just as he had imagined as he drove home with only one thing on his mind. There was no question now of what was right or what was fair, no thought of Bella or of anything except where love and passion was driving them.

If they'd put it into words, to walk together up the narrow stairs side by side and still clinging to each other knowing where they were heading might have sounded sordid. But there was nothing sordid in their emotions, nor did Louisa feel any coyness as together they took off their clothes and stood before each other. Except for poorly endowed statues or oil paintings she had never before seen a naked man. She was living a dream and longed for the next moments. She wished she were experienced and could give him everything he wanted, but this wasn't a moment for wishing; this was what she'd dreamed of. Following instinct, she held nothing back.

If she was lacking in experience, Leo wasn't. At his touch her passion mounted. In her lonely bed as she'd followed her instinct, always thinking of him, it had never been like this. She cried out in pure ecstasy when the final moment came and then, panting but exultant, they lay close in each other's arms.

‘I see the man has brought his machines and tools,' Bella said as she found Louisa tidying the shed late the next morning. ‘Leo told me all about it at breakfast. I was surprised. You'd never said anything to me about having it landscaped. How grand that makes it sound,' she added with a chuckle.

‘I'd never considered it. It all cropped up so suddenly. But Hamish McLaren, the man who owns the garden place, is going to do it himself and it's not nearly as expensive as I would have imagined. The fruit trees will be quite dear if I get enough to make a little orchard. But come and look at the plan.'

Unlike Leo, Bella gave it her full attention and, watching her as she knelt on the kitchen chair with her elbows on the table as she concentrated on the sketch, Louisa was touched with a feeling of real affection for her. And yet she had no guilt about what had happened the previous evening. It was as if Bella was removed from what existed between herself and Leo. She told herself she
ought
to feel guilty; she
ought
to feel shame that she could deceive someone so innocently trusting; someone who was her friend. But Leo was right when he said that Bella didn't come into it; she wouldn't get hurt. For her, nothing would change. Louisa's friendship with Bella and relationship with him were two entirely separate things.

BOOK: Full Circle
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