the greenhouse last week with Sam I came to the decision that although I could, and did fancy other men I really don’t want to make love to anyone else but you. And I agree, what we had (or hopefully still have) is simply the best and is definitely worth one more try. When will you be home?
Your Kate
PS. I LOVE YOU!! (It feels so good to be saying that again).
From then onwards their emails became light hearted, optimistic, and very passionate. And just before he was due to leave France, one night she wondered if it was possible to have cyber-sex? Because as the emails had gone ping-pong back and forward across the channel, they’d practically talked each other through the motions of making love and she’d hardly slept a wink with frustration.
Chapter Thirty Two
Two days later, Tim told her he was taking the Eurostar home which would arrive at St Pancras on Friday at 7pm, and she’d agreed to meet him on the upper concourse at The Meeting Place, a 9 metre high bronze of a couple locked in an intimate pose by the sculptor Paul Day. The couple stands under the famous St Pancras clock at the apex of the Barlow shed and when she’d told Sarah where they were meeting she’d crooned with the romance of it all.
He’d also suggested that they could have supper somewhere and maybe stay overnight in the new five-star St Pancras Renaissance Hotel. He’d found it on the internet where it claimed that after years of devoted restoration, it was now being hailed as the city's most romantic Victorian building and that they would stay in a world where modern amenities mingle with the extravagance of rail's golden age.
Katie had giggled with excitement when she’d read the email but knew she didn’t care where they stayed as long as she was with him again. He’d ended the email with sexual innuendos about what he couldn’t wait to do to her and she’d decided on a major plan of preparation which involved the beauty salon, hairdressers, retail therapy, and of course, Lisa.
“I have to look gorgeous and sexy,” she said to Lisa as they hit the boutiques on Kensington High Street. “I hope you don’t get into trouble for ducking out of work this afternoon?”
It had rained all night and they both side-stepped the puddles on the pavement. “Tsk, I’m the boss, I’m allowed to bunk off,” she said indifferently. Lisa had always been nonchalant about her work in PR but one of her colleagues on the Thames boat had told Katie she was fantastic at her job and could virtually pick and choose who she worked for now, which Katie thought was awesome.
Three hours and numerous changing rooms later, Katie was on the verge of giving up when Lisa dragged her into a small boutique off the high street.
“If we can’t find anything in here I’m throwing the towel in!” she cried in exasperation.
A young sales assistant picked out a beige dress and held it up against Katie. “If I had a nice boyfriend this is what I’d wear on a date,” she simpered. “It doesn’t look much on the hanger but…”
Lisa took it from her, gave the dress to Katie and pushed her into the changing room. “Go!” she said plopping down onto a chair.
The assistant returned with shoes, bag and a belt which Lisa slid under the door of the changing room.
Katie pushed her arms through the beige, silk, wraparound dress which draped seductively across her full breasts, fastened the wide gold belt around her small waist, slipped her feet into the gold sling backs, picked up the matching gold clutch bag and emerged from the changing room to stand in front of Lisa and the assistant.
“Fab-u-lous!” Lisa exclaimed, “If that doesn’t get you guys kneading bread again, nothing will.”
The assistant looked puzzled. “Private joke,” Katie whispered, admiring herself in the full length mirror.
Giggling, they left the shop and went to Harrods where Katie bought a cream silk bra and panties, and then headed into the beauty salon to be waxed, plucked, and moisturised.
“All I have left to do now is have my hair cut tomorrow morning and I’ll be ready to meet him,” Katie said feeling her stomach do a triple somersault.
“Nervous?” Lisa asked as she pulled up outside Katie’s flat.
“Christ, Lisa, every time I think of it my stomach churns with excitement and I think I’m going to be sick! How I’m going to get through tonight