Roses Are Red - Miranda Rijks Page 0,41

past. So I called the AA and got myself up onto the bank. Five minutes later, a lorry caught the corner of the car. It flipped over and was bedlam.’

‘Bloody hell. Was anyone hurt?’

‘Miraculously, no. And now I’ve got no car for work and it’s a total nightmare.’ He runs his fingers through his hair, making it stand up on end.

‘Have you spoken to your insurance company?’

‘Yup, and they won’t pay up.’

‘What do you mean they won’t pay? You’ve got full insurance, right?’

‘Of course. They will stump up eventually, but my cover doesn’t pay for a rental car and it’s like-for-like cover, so I’ll get bugger all for my old banger. What with spending every last penny on Sandra’s medication, I’ve got no spare dosh.’

I don’t mention that the last two months of her treatment have been paid with my money, not his.

‘What a nightmare,’ I say. ‘Would you like a hug?’

‘Sure.’ He stands up and throws his arms around me, but I can feel all the tension in him, the knots in his back, the frown still on his forehead.

‘Sorry, Lydia,’ he says as he pulls away from me and sits back down again. ‘I just don’t know what I’m going to do without a car. I need to drive to Maidstone tomorrow, and the trains are so unreliable.’

‘You can borrow Adam’s car. It’s a Bentley, though.’ I pull a face to express my embarrassment of owning such a beast.

He laughs and reaches for my hand. ‘It’s kind of you, darling, but I just need to rent a car for a few weeks. I can’t really turn up to my client meetings in a Bentley. It wouldn’t give the right impression.’

‘Perhaps not,’ I say, thinking I should sell it. I won’t be driving such an ostentatious vehicle.

‘I’m owed so much bloody money.’ Patrick tips back his whisky in one go. ‘One hundred grand from various clients. You’re lucky to have regular cash flow in your business.’

‘How much will it cost to rent a car for a few weeks?’ I ask.

He raises his shoulders. ‘A couple of grand, I guess.’

‘I’ll write you a cheque.’

‘No, not again, Lydia. I haven’t paid you back for Sandra’s treatment yet.’

‘Honestly, it’s no problem. I know you’ll pay me back as soon as you can.’

‘That I will,’ he says, kissing me again. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re my life saviour.’

‘How was Manchester?’

‘Cold, rainy, grey and thoroughly uneventful. I went to work, sorted out their systems, was late back to the hotel, had a tasteless omelette via room service and then straight to sleep. The same both nights. Dreaming of you, as always.’

‘How long have we got?’ I ask, glancing at my watch.

‘Forty minutes. I booked the table for 7.30 p.m. Could I have a quick shower?’

‘Of course.’

He follows me upstairs, making a grab for my backside. I show him into the bathroom that Adam was using and find him some fresh towels.

Half an hour later we’re both ready.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he says as his gaze travels slowly over me from head to toe.

‘I’m not,’ I say. I get flustered with compliments like that, not that I have received many. I am a realist. I might be described as attractive, with my thick, dark blonde hair and expensive highlights and wide hazel eyes, but I am no great beauty. If anything, it is I who is out of my league with Patrick, just as I always thought I had been with Adam.

Patrick couldn’t be more loving and attentive throughout dinner, gazing at me as if there were no one else in the restaurant, holding my hand across the table, playing footsie underneath it. He asks me about the business, how the children are doing, and whether Mia has forgiven him for blustering into our lives. And when our coffees arrive, he whispers across the table, ‘I don’t think I have ever wanted anyone as badly as I want you, Lydia.’

I blush.

He summons the waiter and asks for the bill. He reaches into his jacket pocket, but his hand comes out empty. Frowning, he searches in his other pockets and then looks at me, his face a picture of dismay.

‘I am so sorry, Lydia. I’m a fool. I think I must have left my wallet in the bathroom when I took a shower. That’s so embarrassing, darling, especially when you are doing so much for me.’

I try to shrug it off, plastering my face with a tight smile. In the scheme of