Certainty came when we fell together on the bed, all wrapped up
in each other’s heat and scent, kissing as if we’d never get the chance again.
He was so sweet with me, so gentle and kind. He wasn’t the same person who’d whipped my legs with a bramble, he just couldn’t be.
I was so stupid, but at least I’d had the excuse of youth.
What excuse did I have now?
The upstairs landing was just as I remembered it, but shabbier. Everything had a faded, regretful look. Outside Joss’s bedroom door was a recycling box full of bottles.
‘Nice touch,’ I said. ‘Classy.’
‘Fuck off,’ he said, quite reflexively and without real malice, then he spun around to face me and said, ‘God, sorry. I don’t mean that. Don’t fuck off. Please.’
‘It’s all right,’ I said, with a little grin. ‘I’ll make you pay for it.’
He smiled back, but nervously.
‘I’m sure you will. Anyway – enter the palace of delights.’
The palace of delights, also known as Joss’s bedroom, had seen better days. The four-poster bed was still splendid and glamorous, but the duvet was on the floor and the antique bedside table overflowed with clutter.
I picked my way over a discarded dressing gown and slippers, aiming for the window.
‘Sorry about the mess,’ he said, snatching them up as I negotiated my path. ‘I would have cleared up if I’d thought … well, I wasn’t expecting us to end up here. Not yet.’
‘Does he use this room?’ I asked, looking out over the park. ‘You know – your Mystery Man.’
‘No. He uses the east wing. Had it all done up to his tastes when he signed the lease.’
‘I’d like to take a look.’
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible.’
He was embarrassed. He was smiling too much.
‘Why not?’
‘Because he’s had a security door put in and, to tell you the truth, I don’t have a key.’
‘He’s locked you out of your own house?’
Joss shrugged.
‘It’s only the east wing. I didn’t use it much anyway.’
‘No wonder you want him out.’
Joss said nothing but stood behind me at the window, so that I felt his shadow falling over me. He was close enough for me to smell his aftershave. Too close.
‘What if it works, Joss?’ I said. In the distance, a deer streaked through trees.
‘What?’
‘Your hare-brained scheme. What if it works and I get my scoop and he abandons this place and releases you from the contract? You’re back to square one. You can’t afford this house. You’ll end up at Wragg’s Caravan Park.’
‘There are other ways,’ he said. ‘Tourism. Opening up the grounds. There has to be a better way than this. I didn’t realise when I signed up for it quite how –’ he swallowed, ‘– humiliating, yes, humiliating, this was going to be.’