The Real Katie Lavender (36 page)

Are you free tonight?
he replied to Simone’s question.

If she said yes, he would ring Gina to say he wouldn’t be home until late. He would tell her he was having dinner with a client. There would be no reason for her to think he was lying.

As he waited for Simone to reply, he thought of the cause of Gina’s ire: Katie. He had enjoyed their evening together on the boat last week – an evening that Gina believed he had spent alone on the
Lady Cecily
. During those brief hours with Katie he had felt at last as though he was getting to know her properly and to be genuinely relaxed in her company. At times – particularly when she smiled or laughed – she reminded him of Fay, and then at other times, when she was considering an answer to one of his questions, he could see himself in her. Or was that merely wishful thinking, a built-in desire to see his genes successfully passed down to his progeny?

It seemed wholly inadequate to say he liked Katie – those words didn’t cover the half of it – but he did. He enjoyed her company, her quickness, her intelligence and her thoughtfulness. Most of all, he admired her incredible strength of character. The last few years must have been a great strain on her, but she seemed to have come through it remarkably unscathed. Whatever happiness lay ahead for her, she deserved it. And if it was within his means to add to that happiness, he would.

Since the Bank Holiday weekend they had been regularly in touch by email, but only when he was at work, so as not to antagonize Gina at home. An email from Katie was now the first thing he looked for in his inbox when he switched his computer on in the morning. She had sent him photographs of her house in Brighton, and a few of her as a young child. The Lost Years, as he now thought of her childhood that he’d missed out on.

The issue of the trust fund had yet to be resolved, but as far as he was concerned, it was hers. He had no intention of letting her walk away from it. He’d tried pointing out to her that if nothing else, it would give her some breathing space to reconsider what she wanted to do next with her life. It was obvious to him, from everything she’d told him, that she was ready for a change of direction when it came to her career. With this in mind, the next opportunity Stirling got, he planned to enlist Lloyd’s help to persuade her that she not only deserved the money, but it could be life-changing for her.

It still wasn’t common knowledge within the family that Lloyd and Katie – to use the popular vernacular – were an item. Apparently, and wisely in Stirling’s opinion, they wanted to keep it that way for some time yet.

It was the complication of their being an item that had scuppered a line of thought Stirling had had, a plausible way to solve his problem with Gina. In truth, it had only ever been a half-hearted solution: he had begun to imagine that he could lie to his family, that he could tell them that he’d made his choice and wouldn’t have any further contact with Katie, but secretly he would go on getting to know her and become more of a father to her. However, that wouldn’t be possible if Lloyd continued seeing her. Either Katie would have to lie to Lloyd, or Stirling would have to ask Lloyd to be a party to the deception. And what would Pen and Cecily have to say on the matter? Would they have to be party to the lies also? No, it was hopeless. He couldn’t do that to them all. More importantly, what message did it give Katie? That he didn’t care enough about her to have an honest father-and-daughter relationship with her?

Once more his mobile pinged.

An hour later and he was in his car.

‘But it’s so unfair! She can’t do that to Stirling.’

Lloyd’s heart sank. He’d made a terrible mistake. He should never have mentioned the conversation he’d had with his grandmother about the ultimatum Gina had given Stirling, and how intransigent she was being. But stupidly he’d assumed that Katie knew, that Stirling would have shared this with her. Now it seemed blindingly clear to him that his uncle hadn’t wanted her to know; he would have tried to protect her from the unreasonable position Gina had put him in, knowing full well how it would make her feel. Nice going, he mentally rebuked himself.

Their meal finished and the bill paid, he folded his napkin in half, then in half again, smoothing it out so the edges lined up perfectly. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’

‘No, you were right to tell me. It’s important. I genuinely had no idea what was going on. Stirling hasn’t so much as hinted at it.’ She sighed. ‘I feel awful. Really awful. I should never have tracked him down. I should have stayed away, let sleeping dogs lie, blah, blah.’

Lloyd tossed the napkin away from him. ‘Firstly, it’s not your fault. Secondly, it’s absolutely not your fault. So get all that self-recrimination nonsense out of your head. OK?’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Wow, is that your stern voice?’

‘Not even close.’

‘But seriously, Lloyd, if I’d stayed away, Stirling wouldn’t be in the mess he is now. He was perfectly happy before I showed up.’

‘Who knows if that’s really true? Look at my own parents: I thought Dad was happy enough, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. I’m beginning to realize that it’s not possible to truly know another person.’

‘I agree,’ she said solemnly. ‘I thought I knew all there was to know about my parents, but all the time they were hiding a colossal secret, not just from me but from everyone.’

‘Don’t think too badly of them,’ he said gently, wanting to ease the tension he’d created so clumsily. ‘Everybody hides something about themselves. We all reveal just what we want to reveal.’

Looking thoughtful and placing her elbows on the table, she rested her chin in the palms of her hands. She stared at him hard. ‘So what are
you
concealing from me? What are you hiding?’

A moment passed. Then, seizing on a way to lift the mood of their conversation, he said, ‘You really don’t want to know.’

‘Yes I do.’

‘No you don’t. You’d be shocked.’

‘Trust me, I’m unshockable.’

‘OK, but you have to come nearer; I don’t want the entire restaurant hearing.’

She did as he asked, leaning over so he could whisper in her ear. It didn’t take him long. She sat back in her chair, her hands flat on the table. ‘Well,’ she said, giving him a studied look of enquiry, ‘if that’s what’s been on your mind all during lunch, I’m surprised you managed to eat anything.’

‘I was building up my strength, just in case.’ He reached across and took one of her hands in his.

‘How much strength do you think you need?’ she asked.

‘That all depends, but I wouldn’t like to disappoint you. I suspect you’re a girl with extremely high standards.’ He smiled, lifted her hand and entwined his fingers through hers.

‘Have you disappointed many girls in your time?’

‘Um . . . I hate to break this to you, but I’ve never been given the opportunity before.’

She laughed.

He feigned hurt pride. ‘You don’t believe me?’

‘Not a word.’

He stroked her slender wrist and felt a tremor run through her. Knowing that his touch had that effect on her stirred something deep inside him. He stared into her eyes. God, she had amazing eyes. He could look at them all day. He swallowed. There was so much he suddenly wanted to say, but he didn’t have a clue how to go about it. He’d never been more sure of a thing, but because he’d never felt this way before, he’d never been more scared. They’d known one another for so little time, yet, and as cheesily unoriginal as it sounded, he felt he’d known her for ever. It felt so right being with her. So natural. Some things you just knew. This was one of them.

They’d spoken every day since she’d left The Meadows almost two weeks ago, usually twice a day, in the morning before he went to work and then again in the evening. They chatted online with Skype, just as he did with his friends in New Zealand, except he didn’t chat with them from his bed on his laptop. They talked about anything and everything – his family, her family, friends, and a lot about his father. Sometimes he felt better for talking about Dad, and sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes an enormous debilitating swell of anger rose up within him when he thought about the utter selfishness of his father’s actions. Mostly, though, it was a profound weight of sadness he felt, and being able to share that with Katie helped more than he could put into words.

Mindful that she wasn’t without her own problems, he tried not to offload on to her too much. He knew that her lack of employment really bothered her, and in her search for a job she was sending her CV out on a daily basis. But the replies were all the same – numbers had been cut back everywhere; nobody new was being taken on. She frequently talked about a change of career, of doing something completely different, she just didn’t know what yet. He’d been through the same process himself, opting out of what was expected of him – a high-flying City career of some sort following on from Cambridge – but not really knowing what he wanted to do. Since making his decision, he’d never looked back.

She had invited him to come down to Brighton, and today – Saturday – had been the first opportunity he’d had to get away. Work had been crazy, especially with Neville, his right-hand man, being off sick. He’d left Henley early and was knocking on Katie’s door at just gone nine. ‘I was hoping to catch you in your pyjamas,’ he’d said when she let him in and they kissed. ‘Having seen them so often on the computer, I wanted to see them for real.’

‘I could change if you like,’ she’d responded with a smile.

‘No,’ he’d said, taking in her black leggings, close-fitting black top, short red miniskirt and flat red shoes. ‘You look great.’

‘That’s good, because I spent ages trying to decide what to wear.’

He’d liked her honesty, that she was prepared to admit that she’d wanted to look nice for him. Girls he’d gone out with previously all claimed to have thrown on the first thing to hand whenever he’d complimented them on their appearance.

She had made him a cup of coffee and then pulled on a denim jacket and said they were going to Bill’s for brunch. Disappointed at the prospect of having to share her with someone else – he’d wanted her to himself for the day – he’d then been happily surprised when she’d taken him to a large café that was buzzing with punters. She had explained that it was one of her favourite places to eat in Brighton, and had recommended the eggs Benedict with smoked salmon. Her advice had been bang on the money.

‘What do you think, then?’ he asked now, still stroking her wrist and still, much to his satisfaction, making her quiver. ‘What’s the plan? Some sightseeing, or . . . or something else’ – he glanced outside – ‘since it looks like it’s about to rain?’

She leant in close and kissed him lightly on the mouth. ‘
Something else
sounds like it might be interesting.’

On a mission now, he peered under the table. ‘Can you run in those shoes?’

‘You’ll have a job keeping up with me. Come on, let’s go.’

No sooner had she closed the door behind them than Lloyd caught her in his arms, turned her around and kissed her deeply. They took the stairs slowly, one step at a time, kissing all the way. At the top, Katie pushed open the door to her bedroom. ‘You can see the sea from here if you stand on a chair at the window,’ she said, helping him out of his leather jacket.

‘You sound like you’re trying to sell me the house,’ he said, easing her own jacket off and kissing first one side of her neck, then the other.

‘Just making conversation.’ She started to lift up his T-shirt.

‘Allow me.’ He pulled it up roughly over his head and flung it to the floor. Her mouth dry, she stared at his chest, for once no ready quip to hand. It was no ordinary chest. It was a fully fledged chestathon of tanned and honed muscle. It was the kind of chest she wanted to lie against and never move from again. He placed a hand on the nape of her neck and kissed her, his hands then moving further down her body, sending a million tingles of electricity through her, just as when he’d stroked her wrist earlier. How did he do that?

In a perfect world, her clothes should have either come off in a frantic whirl of high-octane passion or in a seductively slow tease, but true to form, Katie’s world wasn’t perfect. She’d managed to lose her skirt and top – Lloyd was effortlessly down to his Calvin Klein boxers – but in her haste to rip off her leggings, she was making an embarrassing fool of herself, failing miserably to balance on her left foot with her right leg half in, half out of the unhelpful cotton and Lycra mix. She could not have wobbled more had she been on a tightrope with a howling gale at her back. Coming to her rescue, Lloyd placed his hands firmly around her waist, and blushing furiously she said, ‘I’ve never mastered the art of seductive undressing. I’d make a lousy stripper. God, I must be the unsexiest girl on the planet!’

He smiled. ‘Not from where I’m standing.’ Then he wasn’t standing any more, he was on his knees and sliding the offending leggings down to her ankles and she was stepping out of them and all the while his hands were working their magic and doing that tingle thing again. Then they were slowly making the return journey up the backs of her legs, passing her knees and up to her thighs, and just as his fingers slowly, oh, so slowly, slid to a critical point and she tensed with heart-thudding anticipation, he stopped. No! she wanted to cry. Don’t stop! He stood up and kissed her hard, as if diverting her attention from what he was doing at the back of her. Her bra dropped to the floor and he stared at her breasts. Just stared. Then in one ridiculously easy movement, he lifted her up in his strong arms and set her down on the bed.

‘Nobody’s ever done that to me before,’ she said with a small laugh.

‘Having just seen how unsteady you are on your feet, I didn’t want to risk you falling over,’ he said huskily.

‘It’s you,’ she said, gazing into his face and breathing hard as she recalled his whispered words back at Bill’s when he’d said he wanted to make love to her. ‘You make me dizzy.’

He looked almost grave, his steady blue eyes locking with hers, his hand tracing the curve of her body. ‘That’s nothing to what you do to me.’