much the bills are. I’ll make sure I take fucking notes on this shit because you’re obviously intending to film an alternative version of The Stepford Wives.”
My voice has risen, so I actually shout the last bit. A cough comes from the door and we both spin round to find Julian looking rather smugly at us.
“Well, what do you think, Gid?” Julian finally asks into the silence. “This is one step up from the shithole I had to show you last week but only just. I don’t think this is what you’re looking for at all. I’ve got a new house over at Rock that you might like.”
I bristle, because looking at this house was my choice even if it was entirely accidental.
Gideon gazes at Julian, his expression cold. “I’m not quite sure if criticising one of your customer’s choices is advisable. But what do I know? I’m just an actor. What I do know, however, is that I asked you to call me Gideon and you have refused to do that. Therefore, I’m now thinking that you can call me Mr Ramsay.” Julian gapes at him, but Gideon carries on talking in that ice-cold voice. “Eli and I need to have a chat about the place, so you can leave the keys with us. We’ll drop them into the office in Fowey when we’ve finished.”
“Oh, I’m not sure I can do that,” Julian says hesitantly. “How will you get home?”
“I’m sure we’ll manage,” Gideon says in his best Lord of the Manor voice. I want to roll my eyes, but equally, it’s quite nice to watch Julian being brought down a peg or two.
There’s a short silence, and then Julian drops the keys into Gideon’s outstretched hand. “I’m sure that will be fine, Mr Ramsay,” he says politely. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”
He’s gone in seconds, and the sound of his car reversing on the gravel outside carries up on the still air.
“I’m not sure what you think we’ve got to talk about,” I say carelessly.
“Oh, really?” Gideon says in a somewhat dangerous tone. “You’ve got no idea at all?”
“Don’t speak to me in that tone of voice,” I say sharply.
“Well, why not? The conciliatory one obviously isn’t working.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I do apologise that I’m not one of your fucktoys with my pesky fucking opinions. I tell you what,” I say loudly, my temper snapping at the condescending look on his face. “Why don’t you fuck off back to your previous life? You can do what you want with whoever you want to now. There are no barriers to anything anymore.”
He jerks back like I’ve punched him. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means, Gideon,” I say, enunciating every word, “that you have many options now. So many options. The world’s men are like a sharing platter. You can have anyone. You’re out and proud. No need to stay with me.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he shouts, coming close. “Why would I look at anyone else?”
“It’s going to happen,” I say. All the rage drains out of me, and I can’t keep my fears in anymore. “You could have someone so much better for you than a broke and currently temporary nurse. All those rich, pretty blokes are just waiting for a chance with you.”
“Where is this coming from? Eli, sweetheart, please talk to me.”
His soft words make me shudder, and tears burn in my eyes. “I mean that you could have anyone.”
“I don’t want anyone.” His words are very clear, and his rich, warm voice that contains so much love in it echoes in this old sunny room. “I just want you.”
“For how long?”
“Forever,” he says, and the certainty rings in his voice.
I stare at him. “How do you know? I’m the first serious relationship you’ve ever had, and you’ve only known me a few months.”
“I know.” The words are stark but ring with conviction. He takes my hand and lays it over his heart. “I know in here.” He raises my hand to his temple. “And in here. I know it with everything inside me. Could I have anyone else? Doubtful, but I know I could have my pick. What you’re missing, my love, is that I did pick and I chose you. Because you’re clever and kind, gorgeous and funny. Because you smell like coconut and when you hug me I feel warm all the way through. Because you’re my safe place. Because you’re the love of my bloody life.”