being driven to the station where they’d catch the train to Bournemouth. Celandine was almost beside herself with excitement, hopping from foot to foot and pirouetting around on the parquet floor and old Wilton rug until she was dizzy. Sylvie peered out of the window wondering where the car had got to. It was freezing cold outside – a horrible grey January morning – and she didn’t want to miss the train and have to hang about at the station waiting for another one.
She heard the sound of sobbing and then Yul appeared on the staircase carrying a distraught Bluebell in his arms.
‘Oh Yul! I’d told her to wave from the window-seat upstairs with Granny Miranda. This’ll only make it worse for her.’
He glared at her, still furious that she was going.
‘She wanted one more kiss,’ he said coldly. ‘At least she got one earlier. You didn’t even say goodbye to me.’
Sylvie took the distressed child from him and hugged her tightly, regarding Yul evenly over Bluebell’s shoulder.
‘You stormed out of the room, Yul. You weren’t there to say goodbye to.’
They stared at each other as Bluebell’s sobs turned to gulps and then stopped. Sylvie’s gaze roamed over him, as ever struck by his sheer handsomeness; the mop of black curls falling over his angry face, his slanted deep-grey eyes hurt, his mouth hard.
‘Put her down,’ he commanded.
Frowning, she did so and Bluebell ran over to join Celandine by the window.
‘Come here,’ he said, and reluctantly she stepped forward. He reached and enfolded her in his arms, holding her tight and hard.
‘I’m sorry, Sylvie,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I’m really, really sorry. I don’t know what’s the matter with me – I guess I’m just jealous. I love you! I love you so much it hurts. I’ll miss you terribly and that’s the only reason I can’t bear you going. But I do hope you have a lovely time – I just wish it were me you were going with.’
She felt a lump in her throat at his softly spoken words which she knew came straight from the heart. It took a lot for Yul to climb down like this. She suddenly wished she’d never suggested taking Celandine. Her mother had been right all along – a romantic night away together was just what she and her husband needed.
‘I love you too, Yul. And I’ll miss you.’
He started to kiss her gently on the lips, but with a rush of their old passion it developed into a kiss of major proportions, deep and long. Celandine and Bluebell rolled their eyes at each other – they were used to this. There was a beep outside and reluctantly Sylvie pulled away. Yul’s eyes were blazing with want and need, his cheeks flushed and breathing rough.
‘Just five minutes?’ he pleaded huskily. ‘Please?’
‘We’ll miss the train,’ she smiled, stroking his hot cheek, her voice full of promise. ‘But when I get back tomorrow …’
Sylvie and Celandine sat in their plush seats listening to the orchestra tuning up. The little girl’s eyes were brilliant with joy and exhilaration. She wore her best dress of fine, pale yellow linen, with her namesakes – bright yellow starry flowers – embroidered on the bodice, and the white satin ballet shoes they’d bought that afternoon in the shopping centre. Celandine clutched a programme and was torn between wanting to look at the photos of the dancers and gazing around the theatre in wonder. This was her first time away from Stonewylde in the Outside World and it was almost too much excitement for her to bear. The bell rang and she jumped in her seat like a frog.
‘It’s just to warn the people the ballet’s starting soon,’ explained Sylvie, smiling down at her. ‘They won’t let anyone in once the ballet’s begun in case they disturb everyone and make too much noise finding their seats.’
Celandine nodded.
‘We ought to do that when we have our dramas and dances and the Story Webs,’ she said. ‘People always come in late making too much noise.’
Sylvie laughed and smoothed her daughter’s long silvery curls. This had been such a good idea and despite wishing Yul were here, they were both having a really lovely time. When they’d checked into the grand hotel earlier she’d found a huge bouquet of flowers waiting in their room. It was a really sweet gesture of Yul’s and not one that she’d imagined him making. The little card had read ‘To my beautiful Sylvie – I can’t