‘I think it’s being with you. You’re rubbing off on me,’ he said.
‘We’ll have you packing your snap tin for’t mine if we’re not careful,’ she said cheerfully.
‘Weird, that,’ said Deano.
‘What is?’
‘How the mine’s not there any more. Those pit heads were part of the landscape of my childhood. I keep looking for them.’
‘Country park now,’ said Kayley.
‘I know. What does everyone do here, now the mine’s gone?’
‘Nowt,’ said Kayley. ‘Head for Nottingham or Sheffield, mainly, if they’ve got any sense. Obviously I haven’t.’
‘What does that say about me? I came back.’
She nudged against him, turning to give him an earnest look.
‘What, for good?’
He wanted very badly to stroke her messy hair from her forehead and cup her face in his hand. And then maybe try to … No. He shut his eyes for a moment, banishing her image.
‘Well, who knows?’ he said, the thoughts forming themselves almost as he spoke them. ‘LA’s had me long enough. Perhaps it’s time for a change.’
‘Are you kidding? You’d leave LA and move back to Bleddy?’
‘Jenna did.’
‘I thought she was only here for a year. Mind you, what with Jason and all that …’
‘You think she’ll stay?’
‘I think she might. I mean, he’s got his art career going on now. If they leave the country, he’ll have to make his name all over again.’
‘She’d put her career on hold for his sake?’
‘Why not? She’s got enough money, she’s got enough fame. He’s only at the start. And she loves him.’
Deano was silent for a long moment.
‘Yeah,’ he whispered. ‘Yeah.’
‘Sorry.’ Kayley squeezed his hand, which sent a mad kind of pulse all the way up his arm and down into his stomach.
‘What for?’ For a second, he genuinely didn’t know.
‘I know you want her back. But I really think she’s moved on now. I wish I was good at breaking things gently but … not me. Bull in a china shop, I’m afraid.’
He was about to speak, about to say that perhaps he’d changed his mind about absolutely everything, when the sound of footsteps on the stone steps beyond their little prison made them both stiffen and fall silent.
When the door opened, they couldn’t make out who their visitor was, because the bright torchlight made them squint and see stars.
It was his voice that gave him away.
‘Well, now, my dears,’ said Harville. ‘I think it’s time for some serious talk.’
Ross was a terrible driver. He hurtled along the dual carriageway, swerving from one lane to the next at random, sometimes finding himself nose to tail with the vehicle in front.