‘There’s only one problem,’ he says softly after a while. ‘Lovely though your feet are, they’re not the bit I want to kiss…’
So of course, knowing that, I have to wriggle myself round, so it’s the other half of me that’s resting against Marcus, and then he kisses me.
And this time - apart from a snoring dog – it’s just us and the kissing becomes more and more passionate.
And then I decide, that all this taking it slowly and just seeing what happens isn’t such a great idea after all, because right now I know exactly what I want. It’s abundantly clear that Marcus feels just the same, as he takes my hand and leads me upstairs to his bedroom.
The next morning, I lie in Marcus’s bed feeling extremely satisfied in every conceivable way, gazing at his ceiling, wondering for a moment if this is real. Then I think back over everything that happened last night. It’s a jolly long time since I had sex like that. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever had sex quite like that.
Marcus looks so relaxed. He’s lying there asleep, stark bollock naked with his hair all scruffed up. And oh… he has a lovely body, I think to myself. Not too lean, but gloriously hard, definitely in all the right places - I remember that vividly too.
Marcus is waking up, and when he sees me lying there looking at him, he smiles this sexy, sleepy smile, and pulls me to him. And oh my goodness me, even in the cold light of day and the absence of an alcoholic haze, as he kisses me with a growing sense of urgency, suddenly very much awake and it’s every bit as good as the night before, possibly better.
Then later, as we lie there, I suddenly remember. ‘Marcus, I got you a Christmas present. It’s in your car.’
‘Thank you,’ he says, but with a glint in his eye adds, ‘actually you’ve already given me the best Christmas present…’ and kisses me soundly again.
Then he says casually, ‘I got you something too… but I’ll give it to you later if that’s okay?’
Of course it is. And gosh. How decadent we are, just lying here in bed for so long. Then all of a sudden I leap up.
‘Horace!’ I squeak. ‘He’s in his stable waiting for his breakfast! I have to go to him!’ but Marcus grabs hold of me and pulls me back, saying firmly, ‘Rubbish. Firstly, it’s only eight o’clock in the morning, and secondly, Horace won’t mind one bit if you’re late because it’s yet another cold day and given the choice, he’d probably much rather stand inside eating.’
Which is probably true, in which case, we might as well stay in bed just a tiny bit longer, so we do.
After Marcus has made a pot of fresh coffee and cooked us scrambled eggs, he offers to drive me home. I go and get his present from the car, and he laughs when he unwraps the CD.
‘I’m not quite sure what to think about you giving me the soundtrack to your ex-husband’s life, Louisa,’ he says after a minute. ‘But thanks anyway - I think!’
And he’s really pleased with the wine. And I can’t help wondering what his present is for me.
But when we get back to mine, it’s weird. Firstly, Horace is in his paddock. I suppose he must have escaped, having learnt the necessary skills from the incorrigible and much missed Wurzel. But then I notice he’s wearing his great big outside rug. I frown. I definitely put his stable rugs on last night. I remember putting an extra one on because it was so cold.
Horace nickers when he sees us and then I hear a second, unfamiliar little neigh. And behind him there’s a walking hairball with tinsel round it’s neck.
‘Er Happy Christmas Louisa,’ says Marcus’s voice from behind me. I can tell from his voice that he’s smiling. ‘This is Mavis, and she is my Christmas present to you and Horace.’
Didn’t I say something like this would happen? Horace is very pleased, and Mavis, who’s a small, black Shetland pony, is also a right little tart. She minces around flicking her tail in Horace’s face, and squealing indignantly if he eats the wrong bit of grass. But as she comes up to me, and nuzzles my outstretched hand, her large black eyes studying me through her great mass of forelock, there’s a sweetness and knowingness about her that I instantly take to.
Marcus tells me that she’s about ninety-three in human years but will probably outlive Horace, no problem. ‘Also,’ he adds because he knows it will ensure Mavis’s security with me forever, ‘she’s been chucked out by her family, who have been forced to move because the husband’s lost his job.’
‘You’ll have to tell them they can visit,’ I say sympathetically.
‘I already have.’
‘So who is your partner in crime,’ I enquire, because he clearly didn’t do this on his own, which means that at least one other person knows I spent the night with Marcus last night. The question is which other person.
‘Emma. Aided and abetted by Ben. Actually it was Ben who found Mavis in the first place. And I think Miles went with him to pick her up.’
So they were all in on it. It’s good that Emma knows what devious scheming her boyfriend is capable of. Then the penny drops.
‘So that’s what you were talking about! That night in the pub, when you were all being mysterious. I thought something terrible was going on – not this!’
‘Sorry… But you do like her, don’t you?’ asks Marcus in wounded tones.
I look at him in astonishment.
‘Of course I do, you silly. I love her already. Come here and I’ll show you just how much.’
The week between Christmas and New Year goes in a blur, after that. Taking things slowly has gone by the wayside and Marcus and I spend a lot of time together, both in and out of bed, so much so that I’m beginning to wonder, very tentatively, if maybe we might have a future…
37
It’s a bitch of a January, however. It’s that damp raw cold that’s slightly above freezing and permeates every inch of your being. There’s not even a glimmer of sunlight for days on end.
Work is back into its normal routine, though not excessively busy, which is just as well because Will has gone home to the good old US of A to catch up with his family.
Then one morning, Marcus has a meeting with Beamish, from which he comes out looking most thoughtful. Then the next morning there’s another meeting, only this time it’s Miles in with Beamish, and the following one, all three of them are in there together. Now I’m sorry, but don’t tell me there’s nothing go on. I catch Marcus on his way out.
‘Marcus, what’s going on? Only Beamish hasn’t said a word, and there’s clearly something…’
Marcus gives me a questioning look, and leads me outside into the biting January gloom.
‘Seems I may have been offered a different job. It’s a huge step up, and more involvement in running the practice,’ he says. ‘Only having seen Miles struggle with it, I can’t help but wonder if I’d be better off sticking with the day to day side of things.’
But I’m not really taking his words in. Can he really be thinking of leaving? Then he sees my face.
‘Lou, don’t worry about it. Look, I’ve got a lot on my mind. Can I explain later? I’m already late thanks to Beamish… I’ll fill you in. Pub at eight?’
I nod wordlessly, suddenly hating the tumult of emotion I’m feeling. If Marcus moves now, I’ll really miss him, I think to myself. And in a flash I’m whisked back to when Arian told me about Karina, only it hits me, this is far worse.
I hold it together all day, building it up in my head with every passing hour. Then I get cross because these meetings have been going on for a few days, and Marcus hasn’t shared any of it with me until today. I imagine the whole flaming recruitment drive all over again. How I’ll have to plan Marcus’s leaving do and get a card for everyone to sign just like I did for Karina. And a present - like maybe nice shiny new emasculators. By the evening however, the hurt has given way to anger.
So much so, that I think, bollocks. I’m not going to the pub. I’m standing him up. But I do change into my favourite jeans and pin my hair up artfully-messily, just in case he calls
round, which is sort-of what I’m hoping he’ll do.
He texts me at eight fifteen which I decide to ignore, then at eight thirty there’s a knock at the door.
‘What happened to you?’ says Marcus, looking ever so slightly put out.
‘I was thinking,’ I say determinedly. ‘It’s easier to think here than in the pub. Er, quieter, and things.’
‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Okay. Er, anything I should know about Lou, only you seem a little er, upset?’
‘Well, no. Not really,’ I say coolly. ‘Except for the fact that you’re job hunting and you don’t think it pertinent to even mention it to me, even though I am just divorced and emotionally fragile and we’ve been shagging each other senseless for the last few weeks.’
Marcus is trying not to grin. ‘Um, three weeks and five days actually,’ he says.
Is it? I’m momentarily distracted. Even I didn’t know that.
‘Louisa… come and sit down and I’ll tell you exactly what’s happened, because I’m still not sure what to make of it myself.’
And then he tells me that Beamish has asked him to take on Miles’s job as joint senior partner, and that all the meetings have been to make absolutely certain that Miles is happy about it and then about how to present it to our clients.
I’m speechless. So he’s not leaving and I’ve wasted all that angst on nothing. Okay. Let’s take a step back here. I’m clearly missing the obvious again. After all, I have to remember that Marcus is a man and there are some things that men are absolutely rubbish at, communicating being one of them. I take the opportunity to explain this to him.
‘Congratulations, Marcus,’ I say slowly. ‘It’s very good. But now, I want you to imagine for a moment that you work in an office - my office. I’m a vet and I’ve been acting weirdly and secretively, oh and I’m still your girlfriend by the way, in the make believe thing. Are you with me so far?
He looks a little confused but nods his head.
‘One day, I come out of the last of a string of meetings, and as I’m rushing out, I tell you out of the blue that I may have been offered a different job, but oh. So sorry, got to dash darling. Now think about it. How does that make you feel?’
He thinks about it, then says, ‘It’s fine.’ Then adds, ‘I like the darling.’
I refuse to be distracted. ‘What do you mean it’s fine? How can it possibly be fine? Don’t you care that your girlfriend may be about to disappear and hasn’t bothered to tell you?’
‘Er you’re forgetting something here Lou. It’s fine, because I trust you.’
‘Trust me?’ I say, frowning. ‘Even though your ex-husband betrayed you and you never thought you could trust anyone again?’
‘Okay. So maybe I should have thought about that,’ he says. ‘I rather assumed that because we’re er, together, that you would trust me not to hurt you.’
Which rather takes the wind out of my sails, because isn’t that exactly how it ought to be?
‘Don’t you trust me Lou?’ he asks more seriously, coming over and putting his arms around me. ‘Because there’s no way I’d ever do anything to deliberately hurt you, when I love you so much.’
‘You love me?’ I ask, incredulous. When did that happen? ‘You love me?’
‘Yes, now shut up,’ he says and kisses me, and much later on after a whole lot of kissing and much, much more, I eventually tell him that I’ve thought about it carefully and actually, I love him too.
This afternoon, Rachel and I are having another secret wedding-planning meeting. Karina’s also coming over with baby Oscar. Seems she won on the name front then. Last I heard, Arian wanted to call the poor thing Montgomery. A few weeks into motherhood has transformed Karina, and though she’s tons thinner, she’s still all curvy and motherly, and without doubt one of that new breed of supermums.
She comes in with this enormous Mary Poppins type bag which looks innocent enough from the outside, but holds the contents of an entire nursery. Oscar is looking very chubby, which is hardly surprising as he seems permanently to be attached to one of her boobs, which have got even more massive since she’s had him.
‘How’s it all going?’ I ask her, as I settle Oscar comfortably on my lap.
‘Oh, it’s fine,’ she says airily. ‘He’s so easy, and as long as he’s not hungry he just gurgles or sleeps. I can’t understand what all the fuss about newborns is,’ she adds, as she busies around in my kitchen making us some tea.
‘The funniest thing is Arian,’ she says. ‘Because for a man who apparently didn’t want babies, he is completely besotted. Did he tell you that he’s looking for another job?’
‘He did mention it. To be honest I find it hard to imagine Arian without his uniform… Not in that sense,’ I add hastily, looking at her expression. ‘It’s just that he’s only ever been a pilot, or training to be one…’
Then I have to ask her. ‘Er - do you ever hear from Will?’
From the colour of her ears, I already know the answer.
‘Why do you ask?’ she says guardedly.
‘No reason,’ I reply innocently. ‘Just that he’s still very single, and if I remember rightly, he had a bit of a thing for you…’
She sighs then, but looks far from happy. ‘He asked me out several times, if you really want to know. He’s a great guy, and wasn’t the slightest put out about my er, baggage.’ She glances at Oscar. ‘In the end, I had to tell him that I’m a mother now, and I’d really like to give things a proper go with Arian. And if that doesn’t work out, well, we’ll see. But I’m not planning on it. Actually, Arian asked me to marry him, Louisa. I think I might say yes…’
Golly. That’s brilliant. And positively enlightening to realise I truthfully don’t feel anything other than happy for all three of them.
‘I’ve been seeing Marcus,’ I tell her. ‘A lot of Marcus.’ I raise my eyebrows at her to make sure she gets the drift.
‘That’s great, Louisa,’ she says, looking relieved. ‘He’s so nice. You really deserve a decent man.’
I’m just wondering if Karina and I will ever be entirely comfortable with each other, when our cautiously heart-warming conversation is interrupted by the arrival of teeny Rachel, complete with an armful of wedding brochures.
‘Karina, this is Rachel, Agnes’s daughter - and Rachel, this is Karina who’s about to marry my ex-husband.’ I really have to stop saying that, because Karina’s looking most peeved again.
Rachel looks at us quizzically but she’s not her mother’s daughter for nothing and doesn’t ask. We explain our plans to Karina, who I know is trustworthy and who looks really impressed. Ben’s come up trumps by offering to host the party at his place. It’s a huge old house, a bit like a small stately home.
‘Can I do anything?’ she offers. ‘Only I know a few people who might help. Especially as it’s for Agnes and Beamish. Transport, for one. Mum’s got an old carriage horse who loves to go on the occasional outing…do you think they’d like that?’
‘Perfect,’ I say decisively. ‘I was thinking in terms of Miles’s old Land Rover with white balloons tied all over it, but a horse and carriage much more classy. And you will swear your mother to secrecy, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’ Karina gives me a look which suggests that I must think she’s stupid.
After a couple of hours, Karina takes Oscar home and Rachel fills me in about Miles.
‘It’s the most intense relationship I’ve ever been in,’ she says, looking slightly apprehensive.
‘Miles is extremely intense,’ I say reassuringly, ‘about everything, I should think. He should probably work for the RSPCA or something.’
‘Actually,’ she says. ‘I’ve suggested we go ski-ing. I thought it would give him something else to think about, and it would be fun, and believe it or not, he’s really keen. We’re planning to go when Will gets back.’
I can’t help thinking that Miles, on holiday, does sound a little unlikely.
Then she tells me, ‘Miles ha
sn’t had a holiday for six years…’
Now that I can believe.
‘This is all sounding jolly serious and well, intense…’ I say, catching her eye with a giggle.
‘Don’t take the piss Lou,’ says Rachel. ‘He’s a lovely man. He just needs to lighten up a bit, that’s all. So, what’s going on with you and Marcus?’
Where do I start. ‘He’s a lovely man. Just fine. Doesn’t need to lighten up at all,’ I can’t resist. ‘It’s really good, thanks. He gave me an ancient Shetland pony for Christmas.’
I’m not sure Rachel gets that. I don’t tell her about the ‘love’ bit. Some things are for keeping to yourself.
38
On Sunday morning, I get dressed in layers and layers of clothes, with tights and thermals under my jodhpurs, about five tee shirts under my thickest fleece and three pairs of socks. Marcus is lying in my bed trying to suppress his laughter, telling me I look about three times my normal size, which I do not appreciate one bit.
But it’s worth it for a canter through the woods. Mavis was not impressed at being left behind, and her squeaky little voice followed us for ages after we set out. And though it’s bitterly cold, at least it’s dry, and so lovely to be out on my horse, I don’t really notice the wind burning my cheeks. And when we get back, and Horace is rugged up and back in his field with Mavis, I go inside to find Marcus has coffee on the go, is cooking bacon sandwiches and has even been out to buy the Sunday papers.
‘This is perfect,’ I say through a mouthful of bacon. ‘Just what a girl needs on a Sunday morning after a freezing old ride in the woods.’
He grins and comes over, grabbing my arms and pulling me to him. ‘I think you might need some help getting all those clothes off,’ he says mischievously, starting by peeling off my fleece. And my perfect Sunday gets even more perfect.
The Impossible Search for the Perfect Man Page 22