‘Well, now I’m doubly offended that you must think there’s something wrong with me wanting a glass of wine to end a virtually perfect day.’
‘I’m going to assume you mean, “thank you for being so thoughtful and anticipating how much I would appreciate a glass of much-nicer-than-our-usual-supermarket wine, you arevirtuallythe most incredible, considerate man I’ve ever met”.’
‘Assume away.’ I took a sip. It was indeed nicer than usual, so I took another one.
‘Avirtuallyperfect day?’ Daniel’s voice had dropped to that soft rumble that caused my stomach to flip over. Instead of picking up his own glass, he took mine and placed it back on the sideboard, then stepped right up close to me and took hold of my hand. ‘Where did I mess up?’
I managed to stifle my nervous giggle into a smile. ‘I cooked breakfast for a full house before you even got up. And as much as I’m used to it, a cursory two second goodbye from my parents still brings back painful memories.’ I lifted our clasped hands and gently bumped them on his chest. ‘The rest of it was perfect.’
‘So there’s nothing I can do to make it any better?’ His mouth was so close to mine I could practically taste the trace of wine on his breath.
‘How about you stop talking, and we’ll see if we can figure it out?’
* * *
Being curled up on the sofa with Daniel was virtually perfect. All the times I’d imagined how well I would fit tucked up against his chest were now proven to be right. We sipped our sophisticated wine and kissed and chatted, and it was lovelier than I could have dreamed of.
I sayvirtuallyperfect, because as beautiful as all this felt, my traitorous brain couldn’t stop thinking. It kept rewinding to the conversations I’d had with my family about the mystery caller. I knew it was one of the Alamis. Who else would call the Tufted Duck, several times, pretending to be a school friend?
Now I was home, awareness of the phone hidden in my bedroom above, unchecked for a whole three days, loomed like a sinister shadow over my head. The more I tried to ignore it, and enjoy the rest of the evening – it wasn’t as though checking it now or later on was going to change anything – the greater the shadow grew.
In the end, I fudged an excuse about wanting to get changed into something more comfortable. ‘Literally more comfortable,’ I warned Daniel with as light-hearted a smile as I could summon. ‘It’s not a euphemism for “something sexier that is in actuality far moreuncomfortable”. I’m thinking a pair of leggings and a jumper.’
‘Okay. Thanks for the clarification. But having lived with you for two months, I was expecting your fluffy pyjamas and that ugly green sweatshirt.’ He tugged on a strand of hair. ‘It was when I started to find even the sweatshirt sexy that I knew I was in trouble.’
How on earth was I supposed to resist falling head over heels for this man?
‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ He followed me out, pulling me closer to snatch another kiss before I scampered upstairs.
My shame expanded with every loving gesture Daniel gave me. The better things got, the worse I felt and I had no idea what to do about it.
I opened the drawer and waited anxiously for the phone to warm up, heart thudding for entirely different reasons than it had a couple of hours ago.
Two new messages. One sent on Monday, the day we left:
Time we talked in person.
Another this morning, at 4.30 a.m. It somehow felt worse that this had slithered into my phone when I was sleeping, even if it had been miles away from me, and switched off:
See you soon.
It was a threat. Meant to cause every hair to stand on end.
A threat, no more real or present than the hundreds of promises to mutilate and murder Nora Sharp. No one who knew I was Nora had the faintest idea where I was.
Unless they’d been staking out the Tufted Duck, and then followed me home.
No!No.I flung off that preposterous notion with the contempt it deserved. No one would be that crazily obsessed with finding me. Nora Sharp had made one comment about the quality of restaurant entertainment. She had not been responsible for what happened to Layla Alami. Even if one grief-stricken woman thought it was worth giving up months of her life staking out a tiny B & B in Windermere for, the rest of the family would have intervened.
I was pretty sure of it.
Being sure of something in your rational head and getting the message through to your quivering, jellified limbs is another matter. I hastily swapped my muddy jeans and light-weight top for a pair of soft leggings and an oversized jumper, and did my best to stick on a suitable expression for one of the best nights of my life.
I found Daniel poking another log onto the fire.
‘Hey!’ he smiled, nodding to where he’d laid out a pot of tea and a plate of cheese and crackers.
‘I know we had a massive dinner, but we skipped dessert. This was the closest I could find.’
