inside. 'I'll wait for you here, by the sea wall,' he told her, 'but don't rush; you've got plenty of time.'
The chalet smelled of wood and sand, and faintly of seaweed. It was very tidy, with two folding chairs stacked under a bench. There was a square of mirror above the bench and a high strip of window over the door, which she could only see through by standing on tiptoe. When she did so—when she reached up—she could see Simon by the wall, lean and long in his shorts and T-shirt, sandals on his feet, his hair lion-coloured and thick, lying close to his head.
She looked away quickly, drying herself, pulling on briefs and sundress and combing her hair in front of the mirror with a hand that trembled slightly. Of all people to run into down here—just when she had resolved to meet him only as Mr Easter-the-Consultant and never as Simon-the-man.
'Damn and damn,' she muttered to herself, but that wasn't how she felt. What she was feeling was anticipation, and she cursed herself for a fool.
When she opened the door he came forward to lock it, taking the key from her hand. 'All right?' he enquired.
'Very much so; thank you again.' She started to move away from him more determinedly this time, even managing to get her tongue round the sensible word 'goodbye'. But perhaps she didn't say it loudly enough, or perhaps he wasn't listening, or was resolved not to take any heed, for the next thing she knew he was saying that he'd see her to her car.
'I expect, like me, you've left it in The Lion yard,' he said.
As he bent to pick up a ball and lob it back to a boy on the beach, he heard Anna say, 'I've not brought the car—it seemed a good idea to walk.'
'In that case...' he dusted sand from his hands '.. .I'll' drive you home.'
'Oh no, there's no need!' She felt a pang of alarm. 'There's no need; I've got oceans of time!'
'Splendid, then we'll take in coffee as well. I know just the place,' he said pleasantly, beginning to turn towards the ramp.
'But there won't be anywhere decent open; it's still not nine o'clock!' She had walked right into that one, she realised.. .talking about oceans of time.
'I said I knew just the place, Anna.' His hand came warmly round her arm. 'I meant my place, Andover Square; that's decent enough, I think. We could have coffee in the garden and then I'll whisk you home afterwards.'
He was taking charge, and with a suddenness that surprised her she let him carry on. It would be pretty silly, anyway, to turn his invitation down. It would only amuse him, or amaze him—or both—and what possible harm would it do to have coffee with him in his garden? 'It sounds a lovely idea,' she said, and they continued up the ramp.
The car was the same as she remembered it from Tuesday—deep and luxurious. It was he who was different—casually dressed, the sun showing up a dusting of fine gold hairs on his arms as he reversed out of the yard.
She was intensely, disturbingly aware of him, so much so she could hardly draw breath. And under it all she despised her own weakness for what on earth was she doing, allowing herself to stay in his company when she should have been walking home—increasing the distance between them and not running the risk of getting to know him better, which she knew was dangerous?
CHAPTER FOUR
Simon's house, as he'd said, was very like Prae's, Anna saw as they stopped at the kerb. It had iron railings, though, instead of a hedge, and no front lawn—just a paved run-in for the convenience of his patients who would need somewhere to park.
She noticed the gleaming brass plate to the right of the front door— Simon V. Easter, frcs. frcog . 'Mrs Gill,' he said, locking the car, 'polishes that plate with metal polish and TLC every single day.' He opened the door, letting loose an elderly terrier with a rough brindle coat, who ran to Simon, making whining sounds in his throat.
He bent to fondle the dog.
'Have you eaten this morning?' he asked.
Anna shook her head.
'Then
The chalet smelled of wood and sand, and faintly of seaweed. It was very tidy, with two folding chairs stacked under a bench. There was a square of mirror above the bench and a high strip of window over the door, which she could only see through by standing on tiptoe. When she did so—when she reached up—she could see Simon by the wall, lean and long in his shorts and T-shirt, sandals on his feet, his hair lion-coloured and thick, lying close to his head.
She looked away quickly, drying herself, pulling on briefs and sundress and combing her hair in front of the mirror with a hand that trembled slightly. Of all people to run into down here—just when she had resolved to meet him only as Mr Easter-the-Consultant and never as Simon-the-man.
'Damn and damn,' she muttered to herself, but that wasn't how she felt. What she was feeling was anticipation, and she cursed herself for a fool.
When she opened the door he came forward to lock it, taking the key from her hand. 'All right?' he enquired.
'Very much so; thank you again.' She started to move away from him more determinedly this time, even managing to get her tongue round the sensible word 'goodbye'. But perhaps she didn't say it loudly enough, or perhaps he wasn't listening, or was resolved not to take any heed, for the next thing she knew he was saying that he'd see her to her car.
'I expect, like me, you've left it in The Lion yard,' he said.
As he bent to pick up a ball and lob it back to a boy on the beach, he heard Anna say, 'I've not brought the car—it seemed a good idea to walk.'
'In that case...' he dusted sand from his hands '.. .I'll' drive you home.'
'Oh no, there's no need!' She felt a pang of alarm. 'There's no need; I've got oceans of time!'
'Splendid, then we'll take in coffee as well. I know just the place,' he said pleasantly, beginning to turn towards the ramp.
'But there won't be anywhere decent open; it's still not nine o'clock!' She had walked right into that one, she realised.. .talking about oceans of time.
'I said I knew just the place, Anna.' His hand came warmly round her arm. 'I meant my place, Andover Square; that's decent enough, I think. We could have coffee in the garden and then I'll whisk you home afterwards.'
He was taking charge, and with a suddenness that surprised her she let him carry on. It would be pretty silly, anyway, to turn his invitation down. It would only amuse him, or amaze him—or both—and what possible harm would it do to have coffee with him in his garden? 'It sounds a lovely idea,' she said, and they continued up the ramp.
The car was the same as she remembered it from Tuesday—deep and luxurious. It was he who was different—casually dressed, the sun showing up a dusting of fine gold hairs on his arms as he reversed out of the yard.
She was intensely, disturbingly aware of him, so much so she could hardly draw breath. And under it all she despised her own weakness for what on earth was she doing, allowing herself to stay in his company when she should have been walking home—increasing the distance between them and not running the risk of getting to know him better, which she knew was dangerous?
CHAPTER FOUR
Simon's house, as he'd said, was very like Prae's, Anna saw as they stopped at the kerb. It had iron railings, though, instead of a hedge, and no front lawn—just a paved run-in for the convenience of his patients who would need somewhere to park.
She noticed the gleaming brass plate to the right of the front door— Simon V. Easter, frcs. frcog . 'Mrs Gill,' he said, locking the car, 'polishes that plate with metal polish and TLC every single day.' He opened the door, letting loose an elderly terrier with a rough brindle coat, who ran to Simon, making whining sounds in his throat.
He bent to fondle the dog.
'Have you eaten this morning?' he asked.
Anna shook her head.
'Then
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