by Fay Keenan
‘She did mention she’d joined the Model UN,’ Anna said.
‘And Ellie’s fine?’ Matthew asked. He’d grown as fond of the toddler as Anna was of Meredith.
‘Oh yes – she’s still agitating for a dog, though – I might have to borrow Seffy!’
‘Feel free,’ Matthew smiled. ‘He’d probably enjoy a change of scene.’ As if in agreement, Sefton stretched out his front paws, sighed and put his long nose between them.
A comfortable silence descended. Matthew leaned towards her and touched her lips with his. He tasted of wine and coffee, and Anna could feel the stubble on his face. As his mouth explored hers, she responded to the kiss, and she wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him towards her. They stretched out, Matthew’s long, jeans-clad legs intertwining with hers, the soft leather of the sofa under her back creaking gently.
‘You feel so good,’ Matthew murmured, kissing his way down her neck.
‘You too,’ Anna replied. She was getting rather fond of this stage of their relationship, where they necked like teenagers for hours. It was taking her back to some very interesting places – exciting places, where the thrill of the sensation was enhanced by the fear of discovery. Of course, back in the day, it was parents who would do the discovering, whereas now it was more likely to be her own daughter coming down the stairs. It was fun to lose herself in the moment, but at the back of her mind was the awareness that this would, inevitably, lead to more.
Teasingly, Matthew’s hands wandered towards the buttons of Anna’s cardigan. He began to undo the small mother of pearl buttons until he was able to slide a hand up inside the jersey top she was wearing underneath. This wasn’t new territory, and Anna relaxed, enjoying the feeling of his warm hands on her bare flesh. She pulled Matthew’s checked shirt out from where it had caught in the back of his jeans. Running her hands up the inside, she caressed his back. Their kisses deepened in intensity and as Matthew’s hands began to work their way back down her body, Anna tensed. Immediately, Matthew moved his hands away and broke the kiss.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Am I pushing my luck?’ His eyes were dark with desire.
‘There’s something you should know.’ Anna’s face grew hot.
Matthew smiled. ‘You’re not going to tell me you’re actually a man, or an alien from outer space?’
Anna laughed. ‘No…’ she shifted awkwardly. ‘It’s just that…’
Matthew looked concerned. ‘You know you can tell me anything, don’t you? I want you to be comfortable, Anna.’
Squirming, Anna dropped her eyes. ‘I feel so stupid.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I guess I’m frightened that if you get my clothes off, you won’t fancy me anymore.’
Matthew did his best to smother his bark of laughter.
‘Oh, god,’ Anna groaned. ‘Did I really just say that?’ She buried her face in Matthew’s shoulder, her cheeks flaming.
‘I’m afraid you did!’ Still laughing, Matthew shifted position so Anna had no choice but to look at him. Gently, he placed a kiss on each cheek, and one on her lips. ‘You are so adorable when you’re embarrassed.’
‘Don’t!’ Anna tried to wriggle away. ‘I feel like a total muppet.’
Matthew composed his features into a more sensible expression. ‘Anna Hemingway,’ he said softly. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, and frankly, I’d be the one who should be embarrassed if you hadn’t, you only have to get within ten feet of me and I’m standing to attention.’ He took her hand and placed it on the fly of his jeans. ‘See?’
Anna nodded. There was very little doubt he spoke the truth, if what was now under her palm was anything to go by.
‘But what if that all changes when…’ Anna swallowed. Even to her ears it sounded ridiculous.
In answer, Matthew kissed her again.
Some moments later, both were breathing more than a little heavily.
Anna spoke again. ‘Fair enough,’ she said. ‘But you should know… when I had Ellie… she didn’t exactly come out the normal route.’
‘And this should worry me why, exactly?’ Matthew looked genuinely affronted.
‘Well, it’s just that… I’ve got quite a large scar, and I thought it might come as a bit of a shock.’
Matthew shook his head, and brushed a lock of hair out of Anna’s eyes. ‘You’re forgetting I grew up in the country, so there’s very little that shocks me about procreation and childbirth.’
‘What did I do to deserve you?’ Anna said, starting to calm down.
‘Something terrible,’ Matthew muttered, as he dipped his head to kiss her neck again. And, suddenly, Anna knew everything was going to be all right.
Stretching back against the sofa, she began to relax, and when Matthew’s warm hands reached the button of her jeans, this time she didn’t hesitate.
He shuffled down the sofa until he was level with the top of Anna’s jeans. He undid the button and pulled the zip down. Instinctively, Anna sucked in her stomach, but Matthew ran a hand over her exposed flesh. ‘No cheating.’ He sighed. ‘You are, as my daughter might say, well lush.’
Anna couldn’t help laughing, but that laugh turned into a sigh as Matthew replaced his hands with his warm mouth. He kissed her stomach, and lower, until he reached the horizontal line of her caesarean section scar. He ran his tongue along it, all the time stroking her waist with his warm hands.
‘As battle scars go, I’ve seen worse,’ he murmured, raising his head, a twinkle in his eye, before continuing the route with his tongue.
Anna squirmed, growing warmer. Her thighs parted; she wanted to wrap herself around Matthew, to feel him inside her. ‘Oh, you’re good at that,’ she whispered. She felt the warmth of his breath as he kissed her, and his fingers slid under the waistband of her knickers.
And then, on cue, from upstairs. ‘Mummy!’
Anna groaned. ‘Coming, darling.’ She wriggled off the sofa and rebuttoned her jeans. Then, she walked on not entirely steady legs up the stairs.
Ellie had had a nightmare, and was nearly inconsolable. By the time Anna had settled her back down again, Matthew had fastened his shirt and was finishing a cup of tea.
‘Sorry,’ Anna said, returning to the lounge.
‘No problem,’ Matthew replied. ‘It wasn’t meant to be.’ He put his phone away. ‘Besides, while you were upstairs, Merry texted me. She wants picking up from school, so whatever way you look at it, we’re destined to sleep frustrated and alone tonight!’ Putting his arms around her, he pulled her close. ‘If nothing else, I hope I’ve dispelled any worries you might have in regard to how much I fancy you – clothes on or off!’
‘Message received loud and clear,’ Anna replied. She felt herself responding to Matthew again, and it was obvious he was feeling the same way. She groaned. ‘Bloody kids!’
‘Now now, we’ll get our time,’ Matthew grinned. ‘But for tonight, I’ll have to love you and leave you.’ He leaned down to kiss her, and his mouth was warm and insistent on hers. Anna very nearly buckled on the spot. ‘I’ll see you soon. And no more worrying!’
‘Agreed,’ Anna’s voice had the barest quiver in it. ‘Now get out of here before I drag you to my bedchamber and make you finish what you started!’
Matthew groaned. ‘I am about a hair’s breadth away from telling Meredith to bloody well walk home!’
‘Better not – it’s a fair way, especially at this time of night.’ Reluctantly, Anna let Matthew go and they walked to her front door.
‘Later – and that is a promise,’ Matthew said, kissing her one more time.
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Anna replied. As she shut the door, Anna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn’t believe how close they’d come tonight; and she could barely wait for another opportunity.
17
Frustratingly, for most of April Matthew was overseas trying to work out the finer points of an international distribution deal with a firm in the USA. He and Anna kept in touch via Skype, and Anna was
busy with the increasing numbers of customers at the tea shop since the weather had warmed up. She’d also started mulling over possible cake recipes for the stall at the May Fair that Lizzie usually ran. She wanted to bake something that would represent the village, but a concept was proving difficult. She’d lost count of the amount of nights she’d fallen asleep with a notebook in her hand, jotting down possible ideas.
On his return, Matthew invited Anna and Ellie to Sunday lunch at Cowslip Barn, the Carter family home. Anna greeted this invitation with pleasure, but also a kind of trepidation. Matthew might have been a successful businessman but his cooking left a lot to be desired. While she’d shared the odd meal of beans on toast at Matthew’s place, they’d eaten together more regularly at Pippin Cottage. But, Meredith seemed confident Matthew could pull it off, and so it was that Anna found herself in the cosy living room on the last Sunday in April.
‘I never thought I’d see the day Dad actually got his apron on!’ Meredith giggled and passed Anna a glass of chilled Chardonnay. ‘But he was determined the four of us should have a proper Sunday lunch together, and wouldn’t accept any of my help in cooking it.’
Anna raised an eyebrow. ‘None at all?’ Meredith’s love for promoting her father was one thing, but she couldn’t quite visualise Matthew doing a Jamie Oliver.
‘Well, Pat did come in last night and help him get the casserole ready… and she might have helped a bit with the dessert, too.’
That was more like it, Anna thought. She couldn’t help feeling relieved; both that she wouldn’t be made to eat something Matthew had cooked without assistance, and that there appeared to be something he wasn’t instinctively good at.
‘I bet Dad’s not shown you this place at all, has he?’ Meredith said. ‘And it’s, like, so full of history, it seems a shame not to.’
Anna smiled. Of necessity Matthew had tended to visit her more, simply because of Ellie’s earlier bedtime. She let Meredith take Ellie’s hand, and looked forward to learning a little bit more about the house.
‘This used to be the farmhouse when the family had a dairy herd,’ Meredith said as she led Anna out of the living room and through the dark interior corridor. ‘Hence the cheesy name.’ She wrinkled her nose at the unintended pun. ‘Cowslip was, apparently, one of my great-great-grandfather’s favourite Friesians. The Carters switched from cows to cider in about 1900, I think.’ Meredith led Anna through the stone-flagged hallway and past the kitchen to a room with a closed, oak-panelled door. ‘This is the formal dining room, but don’t worry, we’re not eating in here!’ Meredith pushed open the door to an austere-looking chamber, with a long, dark table running down the centre. ‘I don’t think Dad’s used this room since before Mum left. I certainly can’t remember ever sitting in here, but apparently Nan and Granddad used to have wicked dinner parties, millions of years ago!’
Closing the door, Meredith then led Anna and Ellie into a smaller room at the back of the house. ‘This is Dad’s study,’ she said. ‘Oh, no, don’t worry, he won’t mind you taking a look.’ She opened the heavy wooden door and escorted Anna through. ‘He retreats in here with Seffy when my girl stuff gets too much for him!’
Anna looked around the room, appreciating the floor to ceiling bookshelves and the large, leather-topped mahogany desk. Browsing the shelves, she was unsurprised to see Matthew still had his legal textbooks, a relic of his university days, but tickled to see them buffered up against a set of John Grisham crime thrillers. There were several books on English history, and quite a few volumes of political memoirs, as well as a few pulp fiction titles that looked rather more well-thumbed.
On one of the walls not covered by shelving was a kind of rogues’ gallery. Meredith fell silent as Anna perused the framed photographs, some black and white, some in colour, that represented various aspects of Matthew’s past and present. Two young boys looked out from a faded colour photograph, tinted with age. The elder boy was around nine or ten; serious brown eyes staring directly at the camera, framed by a messy dark fringe. The younger boy looked about six, the grey flannel shorts coming almost past his knees, the blazer looking a size too big for him. He, unlike his older brother, was grinning, his face dimpled and soft.
‘That’s Dad and Uncle Jonathan,’ Meredith said. ‘Dad says it was Uncle Jonathan’s first day of school.’
‘He doesn’t look scared enough!’ Anna replied, looking at the confident, open face of the younger boy. Matthew, already tall for his age, was the one who looked pensive. The contrast in skin tone and hair colour between the two brothers was striking, but there was no denying they were siblings; it was like looking at an image painted in two distinct palettes.
‘And this one’s Dad being all sporting at university,’ Meredith pointed to a slightly larger photograph, obviously professionally taken this time. Matthew, all solid muscle and lean legs, was frozen in time, mid-run, cradling a rugby ball. His blue and white shirt was splattered with mud, his hair, worn a little longer in his early twenties than it was now, was as black as a raven’s wing. The look of concentration on his face was intense.
‘Shortly after that was taken he destroyed his knee, so, even though he’s typically modest about his sporting achievements, he likes to keep that photo on the wall as a reminder that he once played rather well.’ Meredith shot a wry glance at Anna. ‘He even had a trial for England, apparently.’
Chalk another one up on Matthew Carter’s list, Anna thought. Had he ever failed at anything?
Seeming to anticipate Anna’s thoughts, Meredith pointed to another photo. ‘And that’s Mum and Dad and the rest of the family on their wedding day.’
Once again, Anna drew breath, her eyes pulled, inexorably, past the clan like presence of three generations of Carters to the woman in the picture. Tara was tall, blonde, all-American. Her dress, while simple, seemed to dance on her lithe, willowy frame, and Matthew, resplendent in frock coat and striped trousers, looked like a Regency hero; they could have been on the cover of Hello! magazine. How could something that looked so perfect have been destroyed so totally? And how could that little, smiling boy in the first photo have played such an enormous part in its destruction?
Anna shook her head. Time changed so much; photographs were a reminder that, no matter how happy or sad you were, those moments were fleeting. She tore her eyes away and looked briefly at some of the others; Jack and Cecily Carter on their wedding day; Matthew graduating, an echo of that serious schoolboy still present in his features despite the ridiculousness of the mortarboard and gown; and further back, to the first Carter who brewed cider on the farm. Off to one side of the wall was another picture of Matthew and Jonathan; Matthew must have been in his very early twenties, and Jonathan no more than seventeen or eighteen. They had their arms around each other’s shoulders and looked completely at ease. And, finally, there were several photos of Meredith herself. One was of Matthew and Meredith by a young apple tree. Matthew was kneeling next to his daughter, and both were smiling, though Anna detected Matthew’s expression was rather more careworn than happy. Meredith must have been around Ellie’s age. She wondered if Tara had been the photographer.
‘Look, Munchkin, that’s me,’ Meredith pointed to the picture Anna had been observing.
Ellie grinned. ‘You’re pretty.’
Meredith beamed and picked Ellie up so she could get a better look at the photograph. ‘But not as pretty as you! Shall we go and explore the rest of the house? We’ve probably got time to go and see my pony Rosa before lunch, too. And you’d better go and chivvy Dad along, Anna, or we’ll never eat.’
‘Yes, Ma’am!’ Anna gave a mock salute, secretly relieved she wasn’t going to be dragged through Cowslip Barn’s bedrooms.
She wandered back through to the large, cosy country kitchen. Although, like the rest of the house, it looked rather shabby, the russet-coloured walls and large scrubbed pine kitchen table lent it a homely air. There was a pile of newspapers shoved into the corner of one of the kitchen units,
and Anna got the impression the whole room had been hastily tidied recently. She felt touched by the effort.
Matthew, dressed in jeans and a rugby shirt, was basting some roast potatoes and checking on the vegetables that were steaming on the hob. Wiping his hands on the front of his jeans, he turned as she entered the kitchen.
‘I’m impressed, Mr Carter!’ Anna said, sipping her wine and wandering over to him. ‘Can I do anything to help?’
‘All under control,’ Matthew replied. ‘Although, much like a duck, I’m paddling frantically beneath the surface.’
‘So… is this all your own work?’ Anna asked slyly. She sniffed the air appreciatively. ‘Smells great.’
‘Of course,’ Matthew replied, a twinkle in his eye. ‘I’m a man of many talents, apparently.’
‘Apparently.’
‘Hold that thought, Anna Hemingway,’ Matthew crossed the kitchen and picked her up. ‘Or I’ll throw you in the pond.’
Squealing, Anna marvelled at Matthew’s ability to, quite literally, sweep her off her feet. Contained in his arms, she felt like the archetypal damsel. ‘OK, OK, I’ll say no more. But I’ll be sure to thank Pat when I see her next!’
‘I warned you,’ Matthew grinned, heading for the back door.
‘Put her down, Dad, Munchkin and I are starving.’ Meredith appeared at the kitchen door, Ellie in tow and began to set the table. ‘You did say it’d be ready by one?’
‘It’ll be about five minutes,’ Matthew said, surreptitiously checking Pat’s instructions, that were taped none too subtly onto the front of the fridge.
‘This isn’t half bad, Dad,’ Meredith conceded a few minutes later, spearing another roast potato from the bowl in the centre of the table. ‘You should definitely, like, do this more often.’
Anna nodded, mouth full of the rather delicious casserole. ‘Agreed,’ she said, swallowing.