Behind the Scenes

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Behind the Scenes Page 27

by Anita Notaro


  She spent the evening soaking in a bath, dreading her fortieth birthday, which was fast approaching. Her last birthday had been a week after David died and no-one had been in the mood to celebrate, least of all her. Even thinking about forty made her feel old and flabby.

  ‘Stop thinking about it,’ Annie had laughed when she mentioned it the other day. ‘You’ve only just turned thirty-nine.’

  Now she smothered her body in some wildly expensive French stuff, had a face pack, trimmed her eyebrows, painted her toenails, all things she’d normally have left to the slaves at the beauty salon. It was too difficult now to make idle conversation and anyway, she thought she’d probably have to cut back on such extravagant gestures in the future. Any thoughts of her finances made her run for cover so she poured herself another glass of wine and lay on the bed until a restless sleep finally claimed her.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  NEXT DAY SHE watched Andrew as he worked, wondering how they’d say goodbye. She had a horrible feeling it was more of a preoccupation for her than for him.

  She kept finding excuses to go outside and when she finally came face to face with him she felt nervous and he looked relaxed.

  ‘I picked you some of these, thought you might like them in the kitchen. The perfume is quite something.’ He handed her an enormous basket of purple, scented cabbage roses. They were exquisite.

  ‘I thought you didn’t like to pick them?’

  ‘I don’t normally but there are so many in the rose garden they won’t be missed, in fact it will encourage a new flush of late blooms.’

  ‘I won’t be here to see them.’ She was sorry she’d never taken more interest in the garden now.

  ‘Well, you can always plant some more in your new home. Any ideas yet on where that will be?’

  ‘No. I’ll wait until this place sells. I’ve already told them I want a long closing period or alternatively I’ll rent until I find somewhere.’

  ‘A new home is very exciting. A chance to start again.’

  ‘I’ll have to get you to sort out the garden for me.’ She tried to be casual. It was the first mention of a future meeting and she hoped her longing didn’t show.

  ‘I’d pictured you not being interested in a garden, somehow.’

  ‘Well, you’ve converted me.’ He laughed and she wanted to say more, but it didn’t seem appropriate.

  They made small talk and she asked him what time he expected to finish.

  ‘About six, I think. Not much left to do, really.’

  ‘I have to pay you. I don’t have enough cash.’ It was an excuse to see him again and she felt he knew it.

  ‘A cheque will be fine.’ He smiled the lazy ‘I’ve just had great sex’ smile that she’d come to know so well. ‘Or else I’ll send you the bill. A famous client is always easy to track down.’

  She could ignore the put-down, partly because it was so charmingly wrapped.

  ‘Will you call in for a drink later? And maybe stay to supper?’ she asked. Oh God, please don’t let that sound as desperate to him as it does to me, she prayed and didn’t look at him in case those brown eyes were pitying her. ‘Although you may have other plans?’ she felt compelled to add. She imagined he could see right through her.

  ‘I’d like that. Or maybe you’d prefer to go out for a bite?’

  ‘No, I feel like cooking, if you can bear it.’

  ‘I can bear it.’ He watched her the way he always did, then he smiled and resumed his work and she strolled off, happier.

  When she returned home at around five he was still working so she jumped into the shower and changed into her comfiest jeans and a baby blue strappy T-shirt that she’d always loved. She wished she hadn’t put on so much weight but there wasn’t much she could do about that right now. ‘I’ll start tomorrow.’ It was the same mantra every day.

  At about six-thirty he still hadn’t appeared so she went in search of him and found him putting his stuff away.

  ‘Come on, a cold drink awaits you.’

  ‘Thanks, I could do with one.’

  They sauntered indoors in the balmy, fragrant air and again Libby wondered how she’d ever taken her idyllic life for granted.

  ‘Glass of champagne? I think you deserve it.’

  ‘A beer would be fine. I’m not really a champagne drinker.’

  ‘Well, I insist. You’ve done an amazing job and I’d like to say thanks.’ The truth was she already felt a bit light-headed, having him here again. They were almost like a couple and she felt young and heady and didn’t want to think too much about it. The bubbles would intensify the giddiness she so wanted to savour.

  ‘Sure, but could I have a quick shower first? Would that be OK? I brought a change of clothes just in case, because I thought of inviting you out for some dinner tonight anyway.’ The idea of him thinking about her in that way was doing more than any bubbles ever could.

  ‘Of course, you know where it is. Towels in the hot press on the left.’

  When he returned he’d changed into another pair of jeans and a clean, soft blue shirt. His hair was wet and she could smell him and it was a raw, sun-dried smell.

  She handed him a glass of Cristal and he smiled his thanks and asked, ‘What are you cooking?’

  ‘A chicken dish with glass noodles and lots of mint and coriander and lemon. Sort of Asian flavours, I think, although I never really know how it will end up. But you said you liked Thai so that’s what I’m aiming for.’

  ‘Can I help?’ No-one had ever offered before. David had had no interest, preferring to sit and chat or watch sport on TV, and other visitors were mostly intimidated by her.

  ‘Yes, great, you could chop some chillies and garlic. Do you like it spicy?’

  ‘I love spicy food.’ He grinned and she grinned back.

  ‘How hot?’

  ‘Very hot.’

  ‘OK, you got it.’

  As they talked and worked, Andrew was close by her and she felt much more relaxed.

  ‘What’s your next job?’ Libby asked.

  ‘I’m not sure if I’ll take another one on. I need to make a few decisions. Knuckle down to some real work.’ He changed the subject, something he was very good at doing. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I got asked today if I’d do the Late Late next week.’ She thought for a second. ‘Oh my God, I think Annie is on that night too.’ She smiled. ‘Now that would be fun.’ She made a mental note to ring her later.

  ‘God, you really are famous.’

  ‘You mean you doubted it?’

  He shook his head. ‘Will you do it?’

  ‘I think I have to. The series needs all the help it can get and a slot on that show virtually guarantees ratings.’

  He didn’t ask any more but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. They worked contentedly and sipped their drinks and the early evening radio kept them company and the late evening sun kept them warm. It was simple and uncomplicated and different from most other nights she’d known in this house. She was surprised to find that it suited her very well.

  ‘Let’s eat in the conservatory.’ She grabbed cutlery and plates and all the bits and pieces. ‘That OK by you?’

  ‘Fine.’

  Libby set up the table and opened the french doors and the heady scent of lemon and vanilla drifted in from the garden. She lit some candles and then felt silly and started to blow them out.

  ‘Leave them. They make the place look magical.’

  My God, he must think I’m a pathetic old widow, she thought, fleeing the room until her face had cooled.

  They ate the delicious warm noodle salad with some good bread for mopping up the tangy dipping sauce and Libby poured some white wine.

  ‘Enough – that champagne has already gone to my head.’

  ‘Well, I presume you’re not driving and some strong coffee will work wonders.’

  ‘This tastes amazing. Thank you for cooking for me.’

  ‘It’s a pleasure.’ She was proud as punch.


  For pudding she had defrosted a lemon tart and now she served it warm with softly whipped cream and mascarpone. It was by far the easiest meal she’d had in a long time.

  Afterwards, Andrew coaxed her back out to the garden.

  ‘Don’t you ever get fed up with it?’

  ‘No, come on, I want you to smell some of the things that only give off scent at night.’ He almost lifted her out of her chair and then made her take off her sandals as he guided her out through the doors with an arm not quite around her, but close enough for her to be able to feel him near.

  As they walked and laughed she knew she was going to kiss him eventually and the thought terrified and tantalized.

  She was down on all fours because he’d insisted she sniff something very small and as she went to get up she was laughing so much she stumbled slightly. He reached out his hand to steady her. She took it and he pulled her up and she was very close to him and suddenly neither of them was smiling any more and, heart thumping, she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. She knew he wasn’t expecting it and he looked at her enquiringly but this time she brazened it out.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For doing all this and being so nice and saving my sanity.’

  ‘I think my fee has just gone up. That wasn’t part of the original contract.’

  They were very close, in the heady sweet smell of a summer twilight and Libby wanted to kiss him properly more than anything else right now, so she reached up and stroked his face with her hand and this time he made the first move. It was a long, slow, moist kiss and it made her insides melt.

  When they broke apart he seemed to want to lighten the mood and she was sorry. ‘Come on lazybones, there’s more to see.’ She entered into it a bit reluctantly this time, because now the only thing she wanted to do was to kiss him and touch him and have him close again.

  Only when the sky had finally turned inky did they head back inside. ‘I’ll help you clear up,’ Andrew said.

  ‘I never clear up.’

  ‘Well, I do. I don’t want you grumbling about me in the morning.’

  ‘Will I make some coffee?’

  ‘I’d love some.’

  They loaded the dishwasher and she was pleased when he hand-washed her copper pan. ‘Are you sure you’re not a chef yourself?’ she asked.

  ‘Uh-uh, but I know that good pots and pans are special so I didn’t think you’d risk the dishwasher.’

  ‘Most men would never have thought of that.’

  ‘I’m not most men.’ He was teasing but she knew it was true. They drank coffee and made chit-chat and finished their wine. At around eleven, Andrew stood up to leave.

  ‘I’d better go. Lots to do tomorrow.’

  ‘But you’re not working?’

  ‘Not officially, but I’ve a great deal of catch-up, bits and pieces to attend to.’

  ‘Will I call you a cab? I don’t even know where you live.’

  ‘No, don’t worry. I live in town and the walk will do me good.’ He picked up his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, then lifted his rucksack. ‘Thanks for dinner. I enjoyed it–’ another slow, half-smile. ‘And the company too.’

  They strolled out the side door and Libby walked with him to the gate with a dry mouth and a heavy heart, now that the goodbye moment had come. She didn’t want any more partings.

  ‘Thanks for everything.’ She looked at him and hoped he could see something in her eyes, even if she wasn’t sure what it was herself.

  ‘I had a good time.’ He gave her the grin that should never be allowed loose on vulnerable women. ‘Once the first day was over, that is.’ She thumped him and he reached out to protect himself and caught her hand, and she knew she made the first move again but all that mattered was that they were kissing. And this time he held on to her.

  ‘I don’t want you to go.’ At least now she’d put words to it.

  He looked at her for a long moment. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’

  ‘Me neither.’ She shrugged. But her eyes said please stay.

  He took her hands in his and searched her face. ‘Are you certain about this?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s not too soon?’

  She knew it should be, didn’t know why it wasn’t, but the timing felt right and she didn’t want to go to bed alone again with this longing.

  She shook her head.

  ‘In that case I’d like very much to stay.’ The slow, deliberate way he said it made it sound like a lifelong commitment. After a moment they turned and walked in silence back to the house, not exactly holding hands but with arms touching and fingers wanting to.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  ‘COME ON AND I’ll show you the best view of the garden.’ She was smiling at him as she flicked off the lights.

  He halted her by turning her round to face him and putting his two hands on her shoulders.

  ‘Sure you’re sure?’

  ‘Positive.’ And she was.

  It was odd to be climbing the stairs with him behind her. She walked over to the huge bay window, fingered a switch and the curtains drifted silently apart. Another flick and the garden resembled the Blackpool illuminations. Libby controlled the glow until the lights were like fallen stars. And as she looked out and wondered how on earth she’d got to where she was now, he turned her again to face him and ran one hand lightly from her shoulder to her earlobe. This time there was no doubting who kissed who. As it deepened and became more exploratory, she edged closer until it was impossible to tell where one body ended and the other began.

  Instead of going straight to bed he led her to the big couch where she’d been lonely so many nights and pulled her down beside him, then he kissed her again and again and watched her in between. Although she had no recollection of wanting sex since David had died the urge now resurfaced as if it had been smouldering away for months and not dead, as she’d often feared. She couldn’t wait to feel every bit of him naked and glued to her, yet still he made no move to do anything other than kiss her and touch her face and hair and arms and fully clothed back.

  He looked at her and smiled. ‘How are you feeling?’

  She wanted to lie but it was out before she knew it: ‘Horny.’

  He threw back his head and laughed and when he looked at her again his eyes were dark and she realized she hadn’t really touched him. Now she ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his eyes and his ears and his neck, breathing in the clean, healthy smell of him and giving full rein to feelings she’d had since she first saw him in her garden early that memorable morning. He looked so sexy sitting there, long lean body stretched out on her couch, eyes shining, hair that was too long and too tousled.

  She stood up and pulled her T-shirt over her head and started to unbutton her jeans. He stopped her. ‘No.’

  She was flustered.

  ‘I want to do that.’ He was standing now too.

  ‘Then please, please, touch me properly. I seem to have been waiting for this for a long time.’

  He ran his hands over her back then lightly up her arms, and kissed her neck and her shoulders and burnt a trail between her breasts, but it seemed like hours until he actually touched them and even before he did that he stood back to look at her and take in her shape as the now heavy breasts struggled to finally escape the bits of lace. He pushed the thin straps from her shoulders in slow motion and continued to look at her face as the garment fell away; his breath was audible as he cupped her in his hands and stroked her lightly with his thumb.

  Still watching her intently, he knelt down and kissed each nipple with a feathery tongue then went further down and slipped off her jeans. And she stood there impatient to be rid of the final barrier but he made her wait, kissing her stomach before running his hands over her bottom, then down the back and up the inside of her legs. He continued his tortuous route, causing her to moan with pleasure when his hand came to a stop, and with frustra
tion when it didn’t try to go further. Only after another few minutes of torment did his fingers tug at her thong.

  She stood in front of him feeling sexy as hell and then it was her turn to undress him and make him gasp as she slipped her hand inside his jeans. She played him at his own game now, bending down and staring at his swollen penis, not touching him until eventually her lips found the tip and she covered him with kisses. She could sense him trying to restrain himself and she pictured him coming in her mouth and it made her very wet. Without warning he pulled her to her feet and led her over to the bed where they faced each other.

  ‘I don’t think I can stand much more of that.’ He rubbed her cheek lightly.

  ‘I haven’t even started.’ She felt brazen and liked the power.

  ‘You’re beautiful.’ He smiled at her but she shook her head.

  ‘I used to be beautiful but the year has taken its toll and I sure as hell haven’t helped. But tonight I feel gorgeous and sexy and I like it.’

  He grinned at her. ‘I’m glad. And you are beautiful, inside as well as out.’ He kissed her again for the longest time.

  ‘And in case I forget to tell you later, I had a great time tonight.’

  He looked at her. ‘The night hasn’t started.’

  ‘I know.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Oh Libby . . .’ He stroked her hair and held her away from him and studied her carefully, taking it all in.

  ‘You are one gorgeous-looking man.’ She looked up at him as if seeing him properly for the first time. ‘I hadn’t realized quite how gorgeous.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He smiled but didn’t look embarrassed, as most men would have.

  ‘I want you so badly.’ Her eyes seemed black and cloudy.

  ‘Come here, I want to feel you close to me first.’ He pulled her to him but they didn’t kiss, and finally she found the absolute skin on skin closeness she’d longed for.

  It was different from any other sex she’d had.

  When finally it was over, he pulled her down beside him and wrapped her in the soft white cover and they lay with their arms around each other and exchanged silly grins and funny little secrets.

 

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