girl do what makes her comfortable. We’ll see her soon.’
And on the way to the station he said, ‘Don’t want to pry. None of my business. But you know you can always come home, don’t you? If your plans don’t work out. Or anything.’
And when he took her bags out of the car he said hesitantly, ‘All right for money?’
Even though he wasn’t a touchy feely sort of stepfather, Bella hugged him then.
‘I’m fine, Kevin. Really. Don’t worry about me.’
‘We do. Can’t help it,’ he said gruffly, pink-cheeked but pleased. ‘Look after yourself. And don’t forget, there’s always your old room, if you need it.’
But when she settled down into her seat on the train, it felt like being let out of prison. It was a slow, Sunday afternoon train, meandering through the darkening countryside. Eventually it got too dark to see anything but the inside of the carriage reflected in the windows. Bella pulled out her phone and checked her messages. There were several from old friends, hearing that she was back and wanting to meet, and one from Neill, at last. Oddly cagey, she thought. No invitation to visit still, but at least he said he’d be up in London next week and maybe they could have a coffee, if he could fit it in. This was so unlike him that Bella was worried.
But then there was a text from a number she knew and she forgot about Neill, friends, everything.
Call me.
Bella sat bolt upright. It had been sent yesterday evening. There were other missed calls, and then a message on her voice mail.
‘Bella, where are you? Can we talk?’
Without giving herself time to think, she pressed the Call button.
He picked up at once. ‘Bella.’ He sounded amazingly relieved.
‘Hi,’ she said cautiously.
‘Where are you?’
‘On a train.’
‘Oh.’ He clearly didn’t expect that. ‘Why? Where? What’s happening? Are you taking off again?’ He was uncharacteristically distracted.
‘I spent the weekend with my mother. I’m heading back to London now.’
‘Oh. Right. Look – I know what I said. But I can’t stop thinking about you. Do you think we could, well, give it another go? Your way? Not telling anyone, trying to keep it quiet. I mean, it’s worth a try.’
She couldn’t speak.
‘Isn’t it? Bella … Bella, are you there?’
She swallowed hard. ‘Yes, I’m here. And, yes, it’s worth a try.’
‘Thank God,’ he said quietly.
She was astonished. ‘What?’
‘What train are you on? Which station are you coming in to? I want to meet you.’
It sounded like heaven. She gave him the details. She even braced herself for curious glances and even, maybe, someone catching them with a phone camera.
But she needn’t have worried. Waterloo on Sunday afternoon was as empty as she had ever seen it. And the untidy man slouching towards her in scuffed jeans and a grubby Batman tee-shirt didn’t attract a second glance from anyone.
Bella wheeled the big suitcase through the barrier and walked straight into his arms. He held her as if he would never let her go.
7
‘Unexpected Delights in Décor’ – Mondaine Magazine
He took her hand and walked her out to the South Bank. There were swags of lights looped along the Embankment on the other side of the river. They went to the parapet and stood there, arms round each other. Trains rumbled across Hungerford Bridge above them and the dark water rippled and surged around its struts.
‘It’s like fairyland. All those lights. I’ve never seen this before. Or never noticed.’
‘Nor me,’ said Richard, rubbing his chin against the top of her head.
‘I’ve missed you.’
He groaned. ‘Me too.’
‘I couldn’t wait to get away from my mother today. Just because some silly woman at her club said I must be in love.’
His arms tightened and for a moment he said nothing at all.
‘I’ve been moping around like an idiot.’
‘I’ve been snarling at everyone. Poor Ian thinks I’m losing my mind.’
‘Ian the security man?’
‘Ian the provider of anonymous cars and multiple alibis,’ he said, that note of laughter back in his voice at last. ‘You’re going to have to meet him.’
She rubbed her face against his jacket. ‘So we’re not going to be entirely secret then.’
He kissed her. ‘We’re going to need a couple of coconspirators, I think. Your Lottie will have to know anyway. Do you mind?’
‘Mind Lotts knowing? Of course not. She’s my best friend. Anyway, she’d smell a rat if I suddenly went round beaming from ear to ear without telling her why.’