along the river, with the clouds scudding over Battersea Park, exposing and veiling a nibbled-cheese moon, she said thoughtfully, ‘You know, Debs probably did you a favour and Francis did the same for me – patronising twerp! In fact, when someone stops him buggering up perfectly good research projects, he will undoubtedly make himself a fortune as a motivational speaker.’
Richard stopped dead, flung back his head and roared with laughter.
‘You’re lethal,’ he said. ‘I love you too.’
And that was when Bella realised what she had been waiting for. Not the jungle chest-beating, not the exclamations of delight and astonishment. The vow returned.
She thought: I’ve never felt so right before.
Not that it was dramatic or even very romantic. Richard gave her a quick hug, but said, ‘We’d better keep walking or you’ll get cold. There’s snow in the air, I think.’
So instead of wandering hand in hand under the London stars, they marched briskly up from the river along Chelsea Bridge Road, past the well-lit, fashionable shops of Pimlico Road, then Orange Square and Mozart’s statue, heading towards the flat.
Only there was display in a shop window that caught Bella’s eye. ‘What’s that?’
She went over to it. Richard did not resist following.
It was a Christmas special in an interior design shop. In the window there was a family of mechanical polar bears, rather good ones with liquorice allsort eyes and huge powerful feet, their slab heads nodding. There were four of them, a mother, father and two cubs, one batting the other back into line. It was kitsch but at the same time, immensely appealing.
Richard peered down at Bella. ‘Are you crying?’
‘I like the little ones,’ she said, in a muffled voice.
‘You are crying. You old softie.’
Bella sniffed unromantically. ‘Well, you said you loved me. I think it just caught up with me.’
He said in a shaken voice, ‘Oh, Bella, my darling. Don’t cry, my love. Don’t cry.’
And they did kiss then, properly. They stood in front of the spotlit window and the first snowflakes drifted down and neither of them noticed.
People came out of the restaurant opposite, stopped, peered, then stared. They put their heads together, muttering. Then one of them brought out a phone and took a picture, took several. The group went off, bunched together to look at the tiny screen, chattering excitedly.
Bella and Richard didn’t notice that either.
Eventually, Richard raised his head and cupped her cheek in his gloved hand. He was breathing hard. Bella, dizzy and swaying, felt she would never remember how to breathe again.
‘Come on. Home.’
They ran back to the flat hand in hand.
Lottie looked up when they went into the sitting room. She was sitting on the sofa with her laptop on her knee. She looked uneasy.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Have a nice time?’
Bella nodded. ‘I got the job,’ she said in a voice that said her cup of happiness was running over.
Lottie seemed oddly distracted. ‘The job? Oh, the forest charity. Good for you. When do you start?’
‘Second of January they think. They’re sending me the contract tomorrow.’
‘Excellent.’ Lottie looked back at the screen. It kept beeping. ‘Um … where did you go tonight?’
‘We dined at home,’ said Bella, taking off her coat and twirling round happily.
But Richard was watching Lottie, a frown between his brows. ‘Something wrong?’
‘That depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On whether you two want to go public.’
Bella stopped twirling. ‘What? Why?’
‘You’re on Twitter,’ said Lottie brutally. ‘You know how fast these viral things go? I reckon global in fifteen or twenty minutes.’
Bella went cold. ‘No-o-o.’ It was a wail.
Richard kept his cool. ‘Someone saw us? Recognised us?’
‘They’re not sure.’ Lottie turned the laptop round and gave it to him. ‘See for yourself.’
He sat down on the sofa beside her and considered it gravely. ‘Ah, I see.’
There were three photos. Two of them could just have been any couple kissing. The third had Richard raising his head, three-quarter face to the camera. The back lighting of the polar bear window display gave the picture dramatic shadows. Unfortunately these only served to intensify his distinctive profile.
He sighed heavily. ‘My damned Coburg nose. There’s not much chance of convincing people there’s been a mistake, is there?’
‘Look at the tweets,’ Lottie suggested. ‘Plenty of doubters. You could always deny it.’ She stared hard at Bella. ‘Depends how much you’re prepared to lie.’
Richard read them fast. ‘Yes, I see,’ he said without expression. He looked up at Bella. ‘I think this one is your call, darling. Have a read, then tell me what you want to do.’ He