loungewear – perfect for chilling and, later, snuggling up to Charlie.
Dashing back downstairs, she went into the kitchen and began prepping dinner. Charlie loved spag bol. As she set about chopping onions and sprinkling herbs over sizzling meat, she hummed away to herself. Charlie might not want to marry her – yet – but he now knew he’d behaved like a moron and apologised too. Progress!
Leaving the mince to brown, Willow set about making a tomato and basil sauce, all the while contemplating her future with Charlie. She was quietly confident that the entire weekend fiasco was turning itself around. Firstly, she’d planted the seed of the M word. All she had to do now was water it. Making Charlie his favourite dinner after a hard day at work was the start of that little seed sprouting a root. Having make-up sex would provide a second root. Before long the seed would put out a shoot, hurtling upwards, seeking the light that would surely now dawn on Charlie. It just needed time.
If Willow had been a gambling person, she’d have bet a tenner that in another twelve months Charlie would have proposed. After all, he was five years older than her, and many of his mates had married. He’d been to more stag stitch-ups in the last two years than an events company. He surely had no bachelor friends left. Many were now busy helping wives prepare the spare room as a nursery. The days of Friday nights in trendy wine bars were over. Very occasionally one or two of Charlie’s friends were let off the marital leash for a pint at the local pub. Lately Charlie had lamented, “At this rate there will be no one left to have a drink with. They all rush home to have quality time bathing baby Bianca or little Logan.” Indeed, it was only colleague Ben who remained unmarried. Like Charlie, Ben lived with his girlfriend. However, Anna wasn’t bothered about marriage. She’d also told Ben she would never wreck her tummy muscles having his kids.
Willow transferred the sauce into the pan of browned mince. While she stirred, her thoughts remained on Anna. Willow didn’t like to admit it, but she didn’t resonate with Ben’s girlfriend. Whenever they occasionally made up a foursome for a Saturday night curry, it was always Ben and Charlie who did most of the talking. If Anna did make conversation, it would only ever be about her latest promotion or her next marketing campaign. Invariably such meetings took place in the boardrooms of glamorous European cities. On the one occasion Anna had thought to ask Willow how her job at the library was going, she’d stifled a yawn and then started scrolling through her mobile. Anna had made it obvious she wasn’t remotely interested in hearing about bossy Jean or how Willow sometimes had to stay late to finish cataloguing.
Shaking dried spaghetti into a saucepan, Willow decided not to boil it up just yet. She didn’t want the pasta to be a soggy mess by the time Charlie arrived home. Hopefully he’d only be another half hour or so. The commute from London was a swift one thanks to living fifteen minutes from Ebbsfleet International and its highspeed railway.
Suddenly there was the sound of a key in the door.
‘I’m home,’ yodelled a familiar voice.
‘Charlie!’
Willow abandoned her cooking and bounded into the hallway.
‘You’re early. How lovely.’
‘Come here,’ he said, kicking off his shoes and pulling her into his arms. ‘I couldn’t stand another moment at the office. Getting home to you suddenly seemed far more important.’
He kissed her full on the mouth, making her squirm with pleasure.
‘Am I forgiven?’
‘Of course.’
‘Good.’
He sniffed the air appreciatively.
‘Mm. Something smells good.’
‘Your favourite.’
‘Let me get out of this suit.’
‘I’ll go and put the pasta on.’
As Charlie took the stairs two at a time, Willow heard the faint ping of a text message on her boyfriend’s mobile. Seconds later he was in their bedroom and out of sight.
Upstairs, Charlie reached for the phone in his jacket pocket. A text. He smirked. Nice one. It was good to be wanted. But he really did need to cool it with the sender. This was never meant to have happened. Apart from anything else, the lady was getting a bit needy. Better to concentrate on Willow and mending bridges, especially before he went away this weekend. His work department had to go to a boring convention in Birmingham. Regrettably it was compulsory attendance. On the upside, if temptation