of her spine, then slid his hands round to cup her small, soft breasts.
She squirmed away and stepped into the cubicle, pulling him in with her. As their mouths found each other under the warm deluge, he reached down to her hips and lifted her up. She locked her arms round his neck and encircled him with her legs.
He guided himself into her and came within seconds, losing his balance and banging his shoulder against the tiles. Giggling hysterically, Julie clung on with octopus limbs, then with a whoop of alarm released her grip, splashing down into the shower tray.
‘You’ll have us both in A and E, you daft bugger. Broken arms, wet hair and you with a bent willy.’
They soaped each other down then hugged under the jets.
‘Welcome back, my darling,’ she murmured. ‘And you still need a shave.’
When they were dry they poured glasses of wine and Sam ran an electric shaver over his chin. Then they lay on the bed making love again, slowly andlingeringly. Eventually, they fell back against the pillows. Sam’s eyelids closed. By his body clock it was after midnight.
‘Hey!’ Julie nudged him in the ribs. ‘Hey, you can’t nod off on me! We’re going out to dinner!’
‘We are?’ He opened one eye. The look of bitter disappointment on her face told him he was in trouble.
‘We discussed it, remember? On the phone a couple of days ago.’
‘Oh Christ …’
Today was Julie’s thirtieth birthday. He’d failed to buy her a present, forgotten to book a restaurant, even, in his eagerness for sex, omitted to congratulate her on this landmark day in her life.
‘You forgot,’ she said limply.
‘I’m terribly sorry. The jet lag …’
She turned away.
‘Happy birthday, Julie.’ He put a lame hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off. ‘Shit, look I’m sorry. Before I left Singapore I had it firmly in my head. But what with the journey back and my meeting …’
‘Oh sure …’ She gave him a look of petulant disdain. ‘You haven’t even got me a present, have you?’
He knew why she was so upset. This was what her absent father had done throughout her childhood – turning up to visit when the mood took him, forgetting birthdays, oblivious to what was important in her life.
‘Wasn’t sure what you wanted,’ he mumbled, knowing it was a lousy excuse.
‘Only what you wanted …’ she muttered, getting off the bed.
‘Look. I’ll fix something.’
He sat up, but his head was a mess. If they went for a meal he’d nod off at the table.
‘Julie …’
‘Forget it.’ She could see the state he was in.
‘We’ll celebrate tomorrow. I’ll be better company when I’ve got my time zones sorted.’
She forced a smile and began to put some clothes on. ‘It doesn’t matter. Sorry I made such a fuss.’ She stuffed her feet into slippers and began shuffling towards the kitchen. ‘I’ve got some supermarket curry in the fridge.’
Sam massaged his temples, racking his brains for a way to make amends. Time was his biggest problem. In a very few days the operation to find Peregrine Harrison would take him away from her again.
Then he had an idea. A way of combining business with pleasure. He got dressed and made his way to the kitchen.
‘Tomorrow’s Friday,’ he announced.
‘Ten out of ten.’
‘Followed by the weekend.’
‘Now you’re heading for a double first.’
‘What I meant was, why don’t we go away somewhere? Oak-beamed hotel in the country. Crisp walks and log fires. Three rosette cuisine.’
Softening instantly, Julie looked up from the worktop. ‘I’d have to see if mum can cope with Liam.’
‘I’m sure she can.’
‘Did you have anywhere in mind?’
Sam rubbed his chin.
‘Well, yes, actually. Cambridgeshire.’
Five
Friday, 7 January
The next day Sam was wide awake at five, his body clock still out of kilter. He got up quietly without disturbing Julie, made himself some tea, then got stuck into Harrison’s book again.
The descriptions of
She squirmed away and stepped into the cubicle, pulling him in with her. As their mouths found each other under the warm deluge, he reached down to her hips and lifted her up. She locked her arms round his neck and encircled him with her legs.
He guided himself into her and came within seconds, losing his balance and banging his shoulder against the tiles. Giggling hysterically, Julie clung on with octopus limbs, then with a whoop of alarm released her grip, splashing down into the shower tray.
‘You’ll have us both in A and E, you daft bugger. Broken arms, wet hair and you with a bent willy.’
They soaped each other down then hugged under the jets.
‘Welcome back, my darling,’ she murmured. ‘And you still need a shave.’
When they were dry they poured glasses of wine and Sam ran an electric shaver over his chin. Then they lay on the bed making love again, slowly andlingeringly. Eventually, they fell back against the pillows. Sam’s eyelids closed. By his body clock it was after midnight.
‘Hey!’ Julie nudged him in the ribs. ‘Hey, you can’t nod off on me! We’re going out to dinner!’
‘We are?’ He opened one eye. The look of bitter disappointment on her face told him he was in trouble.
‘We discussed it, remember? On the phone a couple of days ago.’
‘Oh Christ …’
Today was Julie’s thirtieth birthday. He’d failed to buy her a present, forgotten to book a restaurant, even, in his eagerness for sex, omitted to congratulate her on this landmark day in her life.
‘You forgot,’ she said limply.
‘I’m terribly sorry. The jet lag …’
She turned away.
‘Happy birthday, Julie.’ He put a lame hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off. ‘Shit, look I’m sorry. Before I left Singapore I had it firmly in my head. But what with the journey back and my meeting …’
‘Oh sure …’ She gave him a look of petulant disdain. ‘You haven’t even got me a present, have you?’
He knew why she was so upset. This was what her absent father had done throughout her childhood – turning up to visit when the mood took him, forgetting birthdays, oblivious to what was important in her life.
‘Wasn’t sure what you wanted,’ he mumbled, knowing it was a lousy excuse.
‘Only what you wanted …’ she muttered, getting off the bed.
‘Look. I’ll fix something.’
He sat up, but his head was a mess. If they went for a meal he’d nod off at the table.
‘Julie …’
‘Forget it.’ She could see the state he was in.
‘We’ll celebrate tomorrow. I’ll be better company when I’ve got my time zones sorted.’
She forced a smile and began to put some clothes on. ‘It doesn’t matter. Sorry I made such a fuss.’ She stuffed her feet into slippers and began shuffling towards the kitchen. ‘I’ve got some supermarket curry in the fridge.’
Sam massaged his temples, racking his brains for a way to make amends. Time was his biggest problem. In a very few days the operation to find Peregrine Harrison would take him away from her again.
Then he had an idea. A way of combining business with pleasure. He got dressed and made his way to the kitchen.
‘Tomorrow’s Friday,’ he announced.
‘Ten out of ten.’
‘Followed by the weekend.’
‘Now you’re heading for a double first.’
‘What I meant was, why don’t we go away somewhere? Oak-beamed hotel in the country. Crisp walks and log fires. Three rosette cuisine.’
Softening instantly, Julie looked up from the worktop. ‘I’d have to see if mum can cope with Liam.’
‘I’m sure she can.’
‘Did you have anywhere in mind?’
Sam rubbed his chin.
‘Well, yes, actually. Cambridgeshire.’
Five
Friday, 7 January
The next day Sam was wide awake at five, his body clock still out of kilter. He got up quietly without disturbing Julie, made himself some tea, then got stuck into Harrison’s book again.
The descriptions of
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