was nice of him to ask. They felt like two kids at a pajama party, in Jane's very sophisticated house. Coco had left her clothes all over the floor of the bedroom. It made it look homier to her. Everything was so neat when Jane was around. Coco thought her mess added humanity to it, although her sister wouldn't have agreed.
“See you in the morning. Enjoy the movie,” Leslie said to her, as he closed the door, and went downstairs for the glass of milk he had wanted and another ice cream. He half hoped that Coco would come down and join him, but she was too engrossed in the movie. He went back upstairs after he finished the milk and ice cream. And this time, when he went back to bed, he fell into a sound sleep within minutes, and didn't stir until morning. He felt as though he had left all his worries behind in L.A., and he had found just what he had wanted when he came here. A safe place, out of harm's way, far from people who wanted to hurt him. And in the safe place, he had found something even more rare. He had found a safe woman. He hadn't felt that way since he had left England and come to Hollywood. And he knew that, tucked away in this house in San Francisco, with this funny girl and the two big dogs, nothing bad could ever touch him here.
Chapter 4
It was another perfect sunny day when they both woke up the next morning. The weather was warm, and the sky was a brilliant blue. Leslie came downstairs before she did, and had already made bacon to go with their waffles. He poured himself a glass of orange juice, and put the kettle on to make tea for both of them. He was pouring the water into two mugs when Coco walked into the kitchen. She had just let both dogs out into the garden. She was going to take them for a long walk after breakfast.
“Smells delicious,” she said, as he handed her a mug of green tea that he had found in the cupboard. He had helped himself to some English Breakfast tea, and drank it without milk or sugar. And a moment later he set a plate of waffles down on the table for her. The maple syrup was already on the table. They both laughed as they remembered the scene of utter chaos when he had walked into the kitchen the day before. “Thank you for making breakfast,” she said politely as he sat down across from her, with his own plate of waffles and bacon.
“I'm not sure I trust you in the kitchen,” he said, teasing her, and then glanced out at the bay through the enormous window. “Are we going to the beach today?” he asked, looking at the sailboats already gathering in race formations. There was constant activity on the bay and an endless flock of boats.
“Would that be all right with you?” she asked cautiously. “I can go by myself if you don't want to. I need to pick up some things, and I should check my mail.”
“Would you mind if I go with you?” He didn't want to overstep his bounds with her, or be a nuisance. She probably had things to do, or might prefer some peace and privacy at her cottage, or even a chance to see friends.
“I'd love it,” she said honestly. And how painful could it be spending a day in Bolinas with Leslie Baxter? “I want to show it to you. It's a crazy little village, but it's terrific.” She had told him about there being no signs, so no one could find them.
An hour later, they got in her van with both dogs, wearing jeans, T-shirts, and flip-flops. She warned him that it could get chilly if the fog rolled in, so they had both brought sweaters. And there was no sign of anything but blue skies as they drove down Divisadero toward Lombard, and joined the flow of traffic heading north to the Golden Gate Bridge. They chatted easily as he told her about growing up in England, and he admitted that sometimes he missed it. But he also confessed that it was different now when he went home. His fame had even changed the way people treated them there. No matter what he did to convince them otherwise, the ordinary people he had known growing up now