‘Julian isn’t here any more,’ she whispered.
She saw his eyes close momentarily, as if he was wrestling with a host of emotions he didn’t understand. When he opened them, he looked more steely. He stood up, and took his plate to the sink.
‘I have to go. I can give you a spare key. You can return it to me in London.’
‘When are you going back?’ she said with as much dignity as she could muster.
‘I fly back tomorrow on the jet. Do you want a lift?’
Of course it was tempting to say yes. The back seats of the Denver corporate plane converted to a bed.
‘No, my flight back to Heathrow is for this evening,’ she said, lying about her flexible ticket.
He came round to her side of the table, cupped his hands around the back of her head and kissed her hair right at the crown. As his lips lingered, she wondered what he was thinking. It was not a kiss that said rejection, but nor was it one that held any definite promise.
‘Let’s talk when we get back to London,’ he whispered. She nodded, not daring to think how this was all going to pan out.
36
Tempting as it was to stay at the Round Hill resort, Rachel and Liam left for Heathrow the following afternoon. The weather had turned by the time they got back to England, making Rachel wish even more that they had stayed a day or two extra for the seafood BBQs, the tennis, and the snorkelling in the electric-blue Caribbean sea. Then again, their trip to Jamaica had not been without its awkward moments. She and Liam had got on well, falling back into their easy companionship that had prompted half a dozen people to ask whether they were on their honeymoon, so from that point, she was glad to be back on safer, less romantic ground.
‘Look at this place,’ he said as they rounded the corner and Somerfold appeared.
Rachel knew that Liam was from the sort of upper-middle-class family that had friends with country piles. He never boasted about his background, although he couldn’t help the occasional reference to things in his past that gave clues about the sort of world he was from. The public school and Cambridge education, the gap year in South America, the nostalgic mention of a holiday cottage in Dorset. But even he couldn’t help but look impressed.
‘Don’t get too excited, this is where I’m staying,’ she said, bringing the hire car to a halt.
‘A boathouse, but not as we know it,’ smiled Liam, grabbing their bags from the boot.
‘Actually, Diana did mention I could move up to the big house.’
‘Promoted?’
‘More like the end of the Cold War, although I’m still on icy ground. What do you think? Want to stay here, or play lord of the manor?’
‘This place is great,’ he said, looking around the Lake House as they stepped inside. ‘Let’s stay here.’
Her heart fluttered. ‘I’m glad you said that. My mum is up at the house a lot, and she might start asking difficult questions.’
‘You mean she might take me to one side and assess my prospects.’
She tried not to read too much into his comment, but it still made her smile to herself.
‘Someone’s been in here,’ she said, glancing around the place.
‘It’s certainly tidier than your usual style,’ said Liam.
‘All my stuff’s gone . . .’
Rachel began to panic. She certainly felt vulnerable in the Lake House sometimes. At night, if the blinds were not drawn, the large glass window surrounded you with blackness and made you feel as if you were floating in space. Sometimes it was inc
redibly relaxing – like one big personal flotation tank; on other nights she felt quite afraid.
‘You settle in,’ she said distractedly. ‘I’m going up to the big house. I want to speak to Mrs Bills. See if she knows what’s happened.’
She stuffed her hands in her pockets as she marched up the path. It was drizzling, certainly not the weather for the little denim shorts she had been wearing since Jamaica. A disturbing thought flickered in her brain. Had she been burgled, she wondered, remembering that Diana had once commented that Julian sometimes worked in the Lake House. Had someone been in there, rifling through the place, looking for something she had not yet identified?
She confronted the housekeeper as soon as she saw her. ‘Mrs Bills, has someone been in the Lake House? My things have gone missing,’ she said, aware that she was nearly panting.