Roses Are Red - Miranda Rijks Page 0,34

that you haven’t got closure. What are the police doing?’

‘I don’t know. They don’t tell me much these days. I don’t think they’ve got any more leads, and thankfully, it seems that they’ve discounted Ajay, my business partner.’

We lie in silence for long minutes until Patrick sighs and rolls out of bed.

‘Time to get up,’ he murmurs.

After breakfast, Patrick settles the hotel bill and he carries our cases back to the car.

‘When can I see you next?’ he asks.

‘Oh,’ I say. I had thought we would be spending the rest of the day together; have a hearty Sunday lunch somewhere followed by a long walk. ‘I can do next weekend or possibly Thursday evening, depending if one of my friends can look in on the kids.’

‘I’m sorry I have to cut today short,’ he says, holding my hand as he gazes into my eyes. ‘I am inundated with work at the moment. But I had the most amazing time, Lydia. Really, the best ever.’

‘Me too,’ I say, trying to dispel the disappointment and focus on this beautiful man, my new lover.

Just before he turns the car into our lane, he pulls over onto a grassy verge. I look at him and raise my eyebrows.

‘I know you don’t want your children to see you doing this, so–’ He pulls me towards him and kisses me.

‘Do you have to leave?’ I ask eventually.

‘I don’t want to go either,’ he says, his fingers creeping up my thigh. He groans and sits back in his car seat. ‘But I have to. Too much work. Let me know when you’re next free, and please don’t leave it too long.’ He smiles, that little dimple in his right cheek sending waves of lust through my stomach. Goodness, I have regressed into my teenage self.

‘Why are you back so early? Didn’t it go well?’ Cassie looks up at me, her make-up-free forehead creased with concern. She has a pile of school exercise books laid out on our kitchen table.

‘The kids?’ I mouth.

‘Still asleep.’ She rolls her eyes.

I take a Nespresso capsule out of the larder and pop it into the machine. I am so exhausted, I need caffeine urgently.

‘It went brilliantly. Better than brilliant, actually. He has to work today and was apologetic that he couldn’t be with me. He wants to see me this coming week.’

‘That’s fantastic, Lydia. I’m so happy for you. Come on, then. Spill the beans!’

I carry my coffee to the table and sit next to her.

‘Well, we walked along the promenade–’

‘Wait! Let’s FaceTime Fiona. She’ll want to know what happened, and then you won’t need to tell the story twice.’

‘Ok,’ I say wearily. Sometimes I feel a little pang of jealousy towards Fiona. It used to just be Cassie and me against the world, but recently we’ve morphed into a trio. It’s not that I don’t like Fiona. I do; she’s amusing and we have plenty in common, and I couldn’t have done without her in organising Adam’s funeral. It’s just this new dynamic is slightly odd.

A moment later Fiona’s face fills Cassie’s phone.

‘How was it?’ she asks eagerly.

I fill them in on all of the details – well, not all of it. The most they get out of me is that he is a wonderful lover.

‘So it was perfect?’ Fiona says. I note an edge to her voice. Envy perhaps? I don’t blame her. It doesn’t seem fair that I have found a new lover so quickly whilst she and Cassie have been single for ages and are still on the lookout.

‘Yes, it was perfect. I can’t quite believe it!’

Later on, when Cassie has left, I lounge around, doing very little. I can’t stop thinking about Patrick, how he made love to me, how perfect he is. And I also can’t stop thinking about his sister, that haunting photograph of her looking so desperately sick. To think that her life depends on whether or not they can raise the money is heartbreaking.

Fifty grand. It’s a hell of a lot of money, but we have it. I wouldn’t even need to sell stocks and shares. In fact, a lot more than that is sitting in cash in my bank account, earning next to no interest. I could give it to Patrick or lend it to him. It seems so wrong that I have all of that money and they have nothing.

And then I wonder. I’ve read all those stories about scammers and dating. What if he’s just with me because he knows