He grasps my hand. ‘You’ve come all the way to see me and yet I’ve hardly spent any time with you. And now I’m doing nothing but complain. I’m sorry, Molly. It wasn’t what I’d envisaged.’
I dredge up a smile. ‘Me neither.’
‘I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’ He stands and pulls me to my feet too. My toes hurt in my silly shoes. ‘Let’s go to bed.’
We take the lift up to Shelby’s palatial room on the top floor of the hotel. I’d guess that it’s one of the best as there’s a view over the lights of Birmingham from the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. I stand looking out over the city feeling like a stranger, an intruder.
He closes the door and then comes to stand behind me, nuzzling my neck. He gathers me into his arms, kissing me deeply. I’d like to say that it feels like the connection between us comes flooding back, but it doesn’t. I don’t really want this intimacy. I wish I’d gone home, back to my comfy caravan and my dogs.
We make love. But, for the first time, I feel that both of us are acting.
Chapter Fifty-Two
I’m awake at dawn. Truth to tell, I didn’t really sleep, only fitful bursts. I’ve not much experience of them, but I’ve decided I don’t like hotel rooms. I was too hot, too cold, too troubled.
Shelby is fast asleep, out for the count. I tiptoe out of bed and look out of the panoramic window again. A pink blush is colouring the city and I wonder if it’s the same at Hope Farm. We get the most beautiful sunrises there. I sigh to myself. Our adventure in pantoland is over. It’s time for us to be heading home to the country.
I text Lucas. Breakfast in five.
Miraculously, he texts me a smiley face straight back.
Then I message Ken, who’s also in the same hotel somewhere, and tell him that we’ll be ready to head off in about half an hour.
Gathering my things, I put my bag by the door. On hotel notepaper, I write a note to Shelby. Thanks for a lovely evening. Hope all goes well today. Speak soon. I only hesitate briefly before I scribble, Love Molly xx
I put the note on the pillow next to him. He doesn’t stir at all, so I creep out. Downstairs, Lucas and I meet at the door to the breakfast room.
‘Did you tell him?’ are Lucas’s first words.
I shake my head. ‘I couldn’t find the right moment,’ I admit and feel as if I’ve failed Lucas. Though, it has to be said, Lucas looks relieved.
‘I think we’ll have to wait until he’s home at Christmas. He might be in a more receptive mood then.’
Lucas looks hopeful. ‘You think?’
‘No, not really.’
‘He’s totally going to lose his shit when he finds out, isn’t he?’
‘Yes.’
I don’t know why, but we both chuckle – it’s not even funny. I link my arm through his as we walk into breakfast together. ‘That was an utterly crap night,’ is Lucas’s verdict and, I have to say, I wholeheartedly agree.
The breakfast was good, so that’s one thing. As we set off for home, I text Matt to say that we’re on our way back and then nap in the car on the journey. Ken must drive smoothly, as I only wake as we pull up at the gate to Hope Farm.
‘Rise and shine, sleepyhead,’ Lucas says from the front seat. ‘Wipe the dribble from your chin.’
I check, but there’s no dribble. I do, however, feel an awful lot better for a doze.
‘Home, sweet home,’ Lucas adds and it certainly is. I could not be more relieved to get back here. I’m desperate to put my wellies on and get out in the fields. I might have only been away one night, but it feels like an eternity.
Matt comes to open the gate and he’s beaming widely. All the dogs are going bonkers and I feel my spirits lift. I squat down and fuss them all. Little Dog pulls back his lips in the biggest smile. The geese come and honk hello. This is my home, where I am my happiest.
‘Did you have a great time?’ Matt asks.
‘It was like the curate’s egg,’ I admit. ‘Good in parts.’
‘Panto is shit,’ is Lucas’s more succinct verdict. ‘Never am I ever going to see it again even if my old man is in it.’
‘I don’t mind a bit of panto,’ Matt says.
‘The show was good, funny,’ I tell him.