The Spark - Jules Wake Page 0,83

in the Domesday Book. We drove past this and turned left into the tiny pub car park and I just about manoeuvred Uncle Richard’s big car into a space which had been designed in the days of much smaller cars.

We both sagged in our seats, with that journey’s-end sort of flop, feeling hot and sticky because neither of us liked the fierce air conditioning of the car, and looked out of the window at the pub.

It was picture-perfect with its thatched roof and tiny eaves windows, although it did look as if it had just had an expensive makeover, with those fancy green wooden windows that seemed to be all the rustic rage of late, and the straw was still yellow-gold as if it had been done very recently. It looked newer and shinier than I’d expected. But it had rave reviews on Tripadvisor, so all boded well.

‘First on the agenda, a very long, cold lager,’ said Sam as we hopped down from the car. I unstuck my vest top from my back and wriggled my shorts down from where they’d ridden up.

‘In the beer garden,’ I said, nodding to the shaded area beyond the car park, which thankfully held a couple of spare tables.

‘This looks very quaint. Excellent choice,’ said Sam, taking my hand as we crossed the threshold into the low-ceilinged bar.

‘Good old Tripadvisor,’ I said with an inward wince at the lie. We’d have stayed in the Black Bull even if it had been a fully functioning brothel, because it was the only place to stay in Ottershaw.

Soft light glinted from the horse brasses on the walls, and hushed chatter came from the tables, which were full of older tourists and holidaymakers, the more sensible taking refuge from the sun. Sam and I were both outdoor babies and he, like me, wanted to make the most of every minute of the glorious weather. The balcony in my flat had never been so well used.

We took our drinks outside and savoured the cold liquid. Sam linked his fingers through mine and we sat there in contented silence.

‘I was thinking,’ said Sam and then didn’t say anything else.

‘Yes,’ I prompted.

‘About … about your flat. My flat.’

‘The one you’re hardly ever in.’

‘That one, yes. Do you think it’s…’

‘Too soon? No.’ As always with Sam, I knew exactly where the conversation was headed.

He grinned at me. ‘I love it when you do that. So I was thinking we could sell both properties.’

I grinned back at him. ‘Makes sense. Get a bigger one. Mine is a bit small for both of us.’

‘We’d need to find a place with a balcony.’

‘Or a place we can put one in.’

‘You’d be up for a fixer-upper?’

‘Yes, I think so. You’re the practical one but I make a great labourer’s assistant.’

And just like that it was all decided. By the time we checked in, we’d looked up respective estate agents on our phones, worked out what we could afford to pay in mortgage payments, and had a brief look at what was available in the local area. We celebrated the decision by having languorous, lazy sex in the slanting sunlight coming through the windows under the eaves.

I woke early and with a smile turned to watch Sam sleeping, an arm thrown above his head, the single sheet twisted around the waist of his leonine body. I loved him so much it almost hurt to look. I resisted the urge to trail a hand across his chest. If I went out now, I might not have to say anything. Last night, the excitement of our decision and all the plans we’d discussed had driven all thoughts of my father out of my head.

Now, in the quiet sunlit morning, they crowded in, and all the indecision bounced around like a demented moth drawn to light. My dad. He was less than a mile away. Was he asleep in his bed with his wife? Were his children, my half-brothers, awake? I didn’t have to see him, them or her. I could just pass the house. Any old tourist out on an early morning walk.

That’s what I would do. Resolve suddenly energised me. Not wanting to disturb Sam, I eased out of bed and slipped on my shorts and T-shirt. Just a quick peek, I told myself. An early morning stroll. With my heart thudding, I glanced guiltily back at Sam. I’d tell him later. Sending him a quick text message, I quietly pulled the bedroom door closed and slipped down