‘I do. From the first day Anna introduced me to him I felt I’d known him all my life,’ Kate explained. ‘And he’s great with Joanna. She adores them both, and she’s thrilled to bits about the baby.’
‘Ben’s a lucky man,’ said Jack, and took her mug away. ‘Time you went to sleep, Kate.’
‘It seems hardly worth it.’
‘A couple of hours’ rest would do you good, so I’m putting out the light.’
‘Goodnight then, Jack. And thank you.’
‘No thanks necessary. Now give me your hand and try to relax.’
Kate did as he said and slid down in the bed, smiling when she found there was almost a foot of space between them. But the hard, warm grasp of Jack’s outstretched hand gave her such a sense of security she felt herself relax, muscle by muscle, as she slid into mercifully dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER NINE
KATE woke slowly to pale daylight filtering below the Roman blinds and the discovery that Jack was close against her, his arm heavy on her waist. At some point in the night he’d moved close, holding her spoon fashion. She could feel his breath on her neck and kept perfectly still until a slight movement told her Jack was awake. She smiled to herself. It was a new experience to wake up with him like this. In their youth their sessions in bed had been all too brief, and never over-night.
‘I know you’re not asleep,’ he whispered, and moved away to leave space between them. She turned over, smiling as she faced him, and he brushed a stray lock of hair back from her forehead. ‘We’ve never woken up together before, Katie.’
‘I was just thinking that.’
His eyes held hers. Seen at this range in the morning light, she could make out little flecks of silver in the dark-rimmed grey irises. ‘I’ve never done this with anyone else, either,’ he said casually.
Kate’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You must have done!’
He shook his head. ‘During various encounters over the years I never stayed the night.’
‘You’re forgetting Dawn.’
‘As if either of us could ever do that!’ he retorted. ‘Just for the record, when we were married Dawn and I didn’t sleep together.’
Kate stared in disbelief. ‘If she was expecting your child you must have done some time!’
‘Before the wedding our few encounters were brief and to the point,’ he said with brutal frankness. ‘Dawn’s room was over the garage block at the pub. It had a separate entrance via a fire escape. She began asking me up there for coffee after her shift at the bar, but at first I politely declined. Then one night I felt so damn miserable I caved in. But I never stayed until her father closed the pub, let alone the night.’
Kate eyed him curiously. ‘And after you were married?’
Jack’s mouth turned down. ‘The bride felt so ill at the register office she couldn’t cope with the meal her mother had organised. Only Dad and her parents were there, so as soon as the knot was tied the newlyweds went straight to the flat in Gloucester Road and Dawn went to bed. I spent the afternoon doing paperwork, and my wedding night watching television on the sofa in the sitting room. Next day I bought a bed for the spare room and slept there from then on.’
‘Was she unwell all the time then?’
‘Pretty much. Her mother was a godsend. She came in every day, did laundry and housework and left meals for me. I went back to the flat in time for dinner every evening, but I ate alone because Dawn couldn’t stand the sight of food. I sat with her afterwards, but—’ He paused, rubbing his chin. ‘To be blunt, conversation was an uphill struggle at the best of times, so we just sat staring at the television, or I made paperwork an excuse and escaped to the spare room. Then one night she woke in pain, and I rushed her off to hospital. You know the rest.’ Jack kissed Kate’s nose and slid out of bed. ‘I’m hungry. Stay there and I’ll bring you some breakfast.’
‘Certainly not, I’ll come down!’
Jack pushed her gently against the pillows. ‘Rest for a bit, you look tired. I’ll throw Bran out and then bring up a tray. Humour me, Kate.’ He pulled up the blinds, collected some clothes and went into the bathroom. When he emerged in a heavy sweater and workmanlike cords, he was a little heavy around the eyes but otherwise looked none the worse for his disturbed night.
‘Ten minutes,’ he promised.
When the door closed behind him Kate made a dash for the bathroom. Longing to take a shower, she contented herself with washing her face and rubbing toothpaste over her teeth with her finger. She rinsed with cold water, borrowed Jack’s comb then tidied the bed. She got into it and leaned back against stacked pillows as she noted every detail of the masculine room, which held no clutter of any kind other than a few books on the bedside tables. Except for the two antique chests, Jack had obviously bought his bedroom furniture from the same source as everything else in the house.
Jack arrived soon afterwards with a tray he set down on the low chest at the foot of the bed. He handed her a glass of orange juice, then gave her a fork and a linen napkin and put a large serving plate between them on the bed.
‘Heavens, Jack,’ she said, eyeing the pile of toast surrounding a big mound of scrambled eggs. ‘I can’t eat all this.’
‘Good, because half of it is for me. No room for individual plates on the tray. Don’t worry,’ he said, grinning. ‘I’ve got my own fork.’
Kate chuckled, and asked about the furniture when Jack sat beside her with the plate between them.