Chapter Seven
I stared at him in horror. ‘They what?’
He turned back to me with an appraising look. ‘I know, not an ideal situation. Let me explain.’ His tone was calm, almost conversational. ‘Whenever I’ve visited them here, in the last year or so – which hasn’t been as often as I’d have liked, but still – I’ve always been on my own. So when I first mentioned bringing you … Well, before I knew what was happening, they’d made all sorts of assumptions – and I didn’t have the heart to disappoint them.’
I let out a long, shuddering breath. ‘You can’t be serious.’
The ghost of a smile. ‘We’ll just have to make the best of it. You never know, it might even be fun.’
‘I’m not here to have fun,’ – I almost spat the word at him – ‘I’m here to work.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Can’t you do both at the same time?’
Not any more. Not since I had ‘fun’ with my Californian coach. And even then, I took it all far more seriously than he did …
A shake of my head, an attempt to dismiss the tainted memories of one man and the disturbing revelations of the other. ‘This is exactly the kind of compromising situation I warned you about, and I’ll be taking the appropriate—’
‘Look, as you’ve just said, you’ve got a job to do – we just need to play our parts well enough so that you can do it.’ He added, almost casually, ‘And anyway, it’s only what you suggested last night, in the restaurant.’
This brought me up short. ‘The restaurant?’
‘Yes, when you made out to Karina that we were on a date.’
I felt the colour flood my face. ‘That was different—’
‘How?’
‘It just was.’
An awkward pause, filled by the hum of the lawn mower. When it sputtered to a stop, all I could hear was the thump, thump, thump of my heart.
He glanced out of the window. ‘She’s seen us, we haven’t got much time.’ As if sensing my fear, he went on, ‘I’ve already told you, you’re safe with me. So really, this is the perfect solution. We’ll put on a show for the McGraws, but whenever we’re on our own it’s back to normal.’
But what exactly was ‘normal’ between the two of us? Coaching him was becoming more and more like – like sinking into quicksand. ‘I don’t—’ I began, but my throat was too tight to go on.
‘Alicia, trust me. It’ll be okay.’ He reached over and covered my hand with his. Lightly, no doubt to reassure. It did anything but.
I grabbed the door handle with my other hand – God knows why, there was nowhere to run. In any case, it was too late; the woman – Midge – was hurrying towards us. Jack released my hand and got out of the car, leaving me to deal with the lingering heat of his touch. I watched him scoop her into a bear hug, heard their laughter. From what I could see, she was indeed small, and fiftyish, with a nut-brown face and spiky fair hair. Nothing like Karina – which was something to be thankful for. But that didn’t mean that I was ready to play along with Jack’s idea of ‘fun’.
Then he was opening my door, looking down at me with an expression that I couldn’t read. ‘Ready for this?’ It was spoken softly, so that only I could hear.
With a deep, slightly ragged breath, I left the relative sanctuary of the car and offered Midge a tentative hand, which she ignored.
‘Och, Alicia, don’t be shy.’ She embraced me warmly and kissed me on both cheeks. ‘The way Jack talks about you, I feel as if we’ve known each other for years.’
What the hell had he said? More to the point – if there was a script, shouldn’t he have shared it with me first? But I forced a smile and said politely, ‘Lovely to meet you too.’
‘Where’s Bill?’ Jack said.
‘In the back garden with the barbecue, I’ve got Keswick Fire Brigade on standby.’ An impish grin. ‘First things first. Come with me, both of you – I need to show you something.’
‘I’ll get Alicia’s case,’ Jack said, while I followed Midge into the cottage and up a narrow staircase onto a landing. A tiny landing, with only two doors. The implications were obvious, and my stomach lurched.
‘By the way, Midge,’ – Jack’s voice, behind me – ‘I’ve got a bit of a cold coming on, so I told Alicia she could have the spare bedroom all to herself.’ I felt my body relax; at least we wouldn’t have to share anything other than a pretence. He went on, ‘I’ll make do with Hermann.’
I turned to him with a nervous laugh. ‘Who’s Hermann?’
‘Our old motorhome,’ Midge put in. ’A Hymer, so we had to go with something German.’
I stared at her blankly, while she went on, ‘People with motorhomes like to give them names, and the names tend to reflect the nationality of the manufacturer.’
‘And people with motorhomes are usually very fussy about who they allow to stay in them,’ Jack said, grinning broadly. ‘In fact, Midge and Bill have been known to let their guests stay in the house and move into Hermann themselves.’
She laughed. ‘Nice try, but these days we prefer the comfort of our own bed. And I’m afraid it’ll have to be Hermann for both of you – the spare bedroom’s just not usable. See for yourselves.’ She flung open the door on the right and led us into a completely empty room – no bed, no furniture of any kind, not even a carpet. I stared at the damp-ravaged ceiling and wall opposite, and tried to believe that this was just a very bad dream. A thud beside me – Jack, letting my suitcase drop to the floorboards, as if equally aghast. Or was this a role play within a role play, and something he’d already factored into his plans?
Midge gestured at the ceiling. ‘There was a terrific thunderstorm a few nights ago, and the heavy rain made the roof leak. We didn’t realise until we found everything ruined the next morning and –’ She broke off as she noticed my expression. ‘Is there a problem? Jack said – well, I got the feeling you were moving in with each other very soon.’
I slanted a poisonous look at Jack; but he avoided my gaze, evidently transfixed by something in the tree outside the window. My only option was to take matters into my own hands – or try to. I turned to Midge and said brightly, ‘With Jack’s cold, it would probably be best if I found a hotel.’
She frowned. ‘You’ll be lucky to get a room on a Friday night at this time of year.’ Then, as if struck by a new idea, ‘I’ve never known Jack have a summer cold – have you two had a tiff?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, just as he said, ‘No.’
A peal of laughter from Midge. ‘Go on, the pair of you! I’m sure you’ll find a way to make up. And please use this bathroom,’ she added, indicating a door at the end of the room. ‘It wasn’t affected by the leak, and it’s a lot less basic than Hermann.’ A knowing glance at each of us in turn. ‘I’ll leave you to sort yourselves out, we’ll be in the garden.’
As soon as she’d gone downstairs, I hissed, ‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’
‘I didn’t know this room was out of action—’
‘But implying that we’re going to be living together—’
‘What’s wrong with that? If you’re the only woman I’ve ever brought here, that would mean you’re pretty special – and moving in together would be a natural next step.’
I glared at him. ‘It’s a totally hypothetical situation, of course, but I imagine one of us would have to change jobs first.’
‘In the longer term, yes. But we could see each other at weekends even now.’
‘No thanks. The thought of spending my free time in Grimshaw holds no appeal whatsoever.’
‘Pity. To me, it wouldn’t matter where we were – as long as we were together.’ He picked up my case and made for the stairs, firing a parting shot over his shoulder – ‘I’ll be outside, waiting to show you our little love nest.’
I wrenched open the bathroom door. The compact luxury of what would have been my en suite went some way to restoring my equilibrium. But that ridiculous conversation about seeing each other every weekend played on my mind; it was as if we were discussing a real possibility – which didn’t exist, and never would.
When I went downstairs again, Jack was leaning back against the front door as if to prevent my escape. I rattled the handle in annoyance, and he turned round slowly. His face wore an unusually bleak expression, and I suspected that he was still dwelling on my words of rejection – however theoretical they might be.
He opened the door and stood in the way, so that it was impossible to get past. ‘There’s something else I need to tell you.’
‘Go ahead. It can’t make things any worse than they already are.’
He cleared his throat. ‘It’s about Karina.’
Oh fantastic, just when I think it can’t get any worse … He’s going to confess that they’re having an affair behind her boyfriend’s back. And technically behind my back, as his new girlfriend. Not that I care, of course; not in the slightest.
‘You probably realised in the restaurant that she’s my ex,’ he went on. ‘She’s been going out with a guy called Henrik, and now she’s decided to break up with him.’ He paused. ‘To cut a long story short, she wants to be back with me. Trouble is, she’s threatening to come up here this weekend so that we can talk things over.’
‘Fine by me – although it might get a bit crowded in the motorhome,’ I said, acidly.
A tight-lipped smile. ‘Well, it’s not fine by me. But having you as my girlfriend could be handy if she does turn up. With Karina, actions speak louder than words – and I need her to get the message.’
Which message? That he doesn’t want her back – or, more likely, that she’s got competition and she’ll need to up her game?
Something he’d said earlier snagged in my mind, a flaw in his preposterous argument. ‘How will she know where to find you, if you’ve never brought her here?’ I narrowed my eyes. ‘Unless, of course, you’ve given her this address, set it all up—’
‘I have.’
The speed of his confession took me aback. ‘You have?’
‘Yes, I gave her Midge and Bill’s address ages ago. She wanted to send them a card when they moved in.’
‘Oh.’
‘But I swear this isn’t a set-up, Alicia. For all I know, she could be coming up the drive right now.’
I tilted my head to one side, as if giving the whole idea serious consideration. ‘Let me get this right … You signed a contract for executive coaching. Perhaps you could show me where it specifies duties such as’ – I checked them off on my fingers – ‘pretending to be romantically involved … protecting you from your exes turning up inconveniently, which I imagine could be a full-time job in itself … and, last but by no means least, planning when we can set up home together!’
He stared down at me for several long seconds; then, before I could protest, he placed his hands on my shoulders. Firmly, so that I could feel their heat through the thin fabric of my T-shirt. ‘Last night, at dinner, you said that reading up on my personal life gave you an insight into how I do business – remember?’ I gave a non-committal nod, wondering where he was taking this. ‘Well, I’m asking you – as my coach – to give me some support with a personal matter, only if it’s needed, and only over the next two days. Will you do that, Alicia?’
I looked up at him, disconcerted. When he put it like that … well, how could I refuse? ‘Okay, then,’ I heard myself say slowly. ‘But my warning about compromising situations still applies—’
‘So does my word that you’ll be safe with me.’ As if to emphasise the point, he lifted his hands from my shoulders and stood back from the door to let me through. ‘Come and meet Hermann.’
He walked off and I followed, struggling to match his long strides. ‘I still don’t see why we need to keep up the act in front of Bill and Midge,’ I said in a stage whisper, as if they – or, heaven forbid, Karina – might be stalking us. ‘Surely, if we explain, they’ll understand?’
A frowning sidelong look. ‘They will – but, as I’ve said, you won’t get as much out of them. And this weekend is important for my coaching, isn’t it?’
And for mine. The warmth of his touch, in the car and just now, was a poignant reminder of a time when I’d taken that sort of thing for granted. A time when I’d wholeheartedly embraced the instinctive intimacies, the unspoken permissions, of being in love. A time when …
I squared my shoulders, shook off the memories, pulled myself together.
Okay. This is for one weekend, no more than a couple of days – then I can disengage from coaching him, professionalism and dignity intact. So what if I also use it as a kind of physical and emotional ‘rehab’, an opportunity to clean old wounds in the hope that they’ll finally heal? As for the man cast in the role of my lover, isn’t it a no-brainer? Most women would give their right arm to be in my shoes …
We turned a corner – metaphorically perhaps, as well as literally – and arrived at a wooden-framed carport, its fresh blue paint decorated with red roses and yellow daisies in the style of a traditional narrow boat. A lovingly constructed shelter for the motorhome parked beneath it, large and white and – even to my untutored eye – eccentrically retro. Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to call it Hermann; the name implied approval, even affection – and I was a long way from either.
But, as I went up the two steps and through the open door, that proved to be the least of my worries. After the sunlight, it took more than a moment to adjust to the relative gloom. Or was it because my eyes were immediately drawn to a bed that occupied almost the full length and width of the vehicle?
I suppressed a shiver and attempted a calm assessment of the situation. With its crisp white sheets and red-and-white patterned duvet, the bed looked almost inviting – and, more importantly, spacious enough to avoid unwanted familiarity. In fact, I reckoned I could construct a sturdy little wall down the middle, using the plump red cushions that formed an unofficial headboard. No chance of him ‘accidentally’ invading my half, with that in place.
I stepped down from the motorhome. ‘It’s okay, I suppose. We shouldn’t be on top of one another.’ An unfortunate turn of phrase, and I blushed.
He raised one eyebrow. ‘Only if we both want to be.’
‘You know that’s not going to happen,’ I said, frostily.
‘But it helps to imagine it could, since we’re supposed to be in a physical relationship.’ He held out his hand. ‘Let’s at least pretend we’ve kissed and made up before you meet Bill – he’s the main reason we’re here, after all.’
I stared at his hand with its clean long lines and no rings. Deep breath. And another. Oh, for God’s sake – just do it! On impulse, I let go of my misgivings and slipped my hand into his. More yielding than our business handshakes, but I steeled myself against the spark. So far, so good. I looked up, and tried out a doting smile.
‘Wow, an Oscar-winning performance.’ That wicked grin resurfaced, transforming him into someone I might actually enjoy spending the weekend with.
We strolled into the garden – a tangle of shrubs and roses, their colour and profusion contained by a network of gravel paths and low walls. Birdsong rippled through the sultry air, pure and mellow. Before us, tawny red in the evening sun, a steep hillside rose to a high serrated ridge.
Jack’s grip on my hand tightened as he steered me towards the murmur of voices, through an arch of wide-eyed white roses and onto a slate patio. Here we found Midge at a wrought-iron table contemplating two bottles of wine, and Bill – a tall, bulky man with a greying beard – tending a barbecue.
‘At last,’ she said. ‘I was about to send a search party!’ An appraising look. ‘You’re friends again, thank goodness. Let me get you both a glass of wine.’
Bill put down his tongs and came towards us. A hearty clasp of hands with Jack, a hug and kiss for me. Ironic, wasn’t it, that I was allowing more affection from his friends than I would ever allow from him?
‘Sit here, Alicia.’ Midge patted the seat nearest to her. ‘White or red?’
I hesitated – wasn’t I working? But it seemed churlish to refuse, and I resolved to make one glass last all evening. ‘White, thank you.’
Jack sat down on my other side. ‘Are you warm enough, love?’
It took a moment to realise he was talking to me. ‘Oh – yes.’ To disguise my embarrassment, I blurted out the first thing that came into my head. ‘What a lovely place, I wish we were staying for longer.’
His arm snaked along the back of my chair. ‘So do I.’
‘But we can’t,’ I said firmly, with a warning look in his direction.
‘Next time, then,’ Midge said. ‘Especially now that Jack’s remembered his way here.’
Bill chuckled. ‘What she means, Alicia, is that he hasn’t been to see us for a while. I’ve a feeling that we have you to thank for this visit.’
‘True, except that we did have an ulterior motive.’ A coy smile at Jack.
He smiled back, but cautiously. ‘We did?’
‘Yes.’ I paused. Served him right if he thought I was going to confess about the coaching and abandon the role play. ‘You thought staying with Bill and Midge would make my first trip to the Lake District a success, whatever the weather – remember?’
Our eyes met. Perhaps he detected the triumph in mine, because he lifted his arm from the back of my chair and casually ran his fingertip across the bare skin of my neck. Unexpected, and totally unnecessary. I flinched, then tried to cover up with, ‘Don’t – you know how ticklish I am.’
His finger moved instantly from my neck, only to resurface at the small of my back where my T-shirt had pulled away from my jeans. I nearly jumped out of my chair. ‘I certainly do,’ he said, blandly.
‘Och, leave the poor girl alone,’ Midge said. ‘You’ve plenty of time for that later.’
I leaned back in my chair, slamming his hand against the wrought iron.
‘I’m feeling well and truly crushed,’ he said, in that black-velvet voice. ‘But I’m sure it won’t last.’
Midge handed round some olives. ‘Jack told us you were from the south, Alicia – whereabouts?’
‘Hampshire. I still live there – a little place called Helsingham, just off the M3.’
‘But you met Jack up north – was it something to do with work? He was a wee bit vague about that part on the phone.’
‘Hardly surprising.’ A glance of malicious sweetness at Jack. ‘We met at the ballet.’
‘The ballet?’ Bill looked as though he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or alarmed.
‘Yes, I was in Manchester to see a client, and managed to get a ticket for Les Sylphides. Jack was sitting next to me, we got talking and – well, the rest is history, as they say.’
‘Not quite,’ Jack said, extricating his hand at last – only to rest it on my knee, rather too heavily. ‘You missed out the bit where you tried to squeeze past me without waking me up. You got stuck in a very interesting position – far more entertaining than the ballet, actually.’
They all laughed, and I forced myself to join in.
‘I’d have fallen asleep, too,’ Bill said. ‘What possessed you to go in the first place?’
‘We can’t even get you to the theatre in Keswick,’ Midge put in. Then, turning to me, ‘It’s in a beautiful setting right on the lake, well worth a visit – maybe the next time you’re up?’
‘Of course.’ I suppressed a twinge of guilt; little did she realise that this ‘relationship’ was heading for the rocks as soon as the weekend was over.
She beamed at me. ‘Good. As soon as you let me know a date, I’ll book us in – we can leave these two philistines in the pub for the evening. But Jack – you at the ballet? Was this some sort of Billy Elliot moment?’
‘Not exactly – the Northern Ballet approached Leo Components for sponsorship and gave me complimentary tickets, so I agreed to go along. In the end, I couldn’t persuade the Board to go ahead with the sponsorship – but otherwise it turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.’ His eyes sought mine, their expression unbelievably adoring, while I made a mental note of how easily he could conjure up a plausible story.
I held his gaze just long enough to appear equally besotted, before saying, ‘Luckily for me, you were on your own that night. And for once we didn’t bump into any of your exes.’
A grunt from Midge. ‘I can’t imagine Karina going anywhere just to be in the audience, she’s more of a centre-stage person.’
Oh, not Karina again. I glanced across at Jack, barely concealing my resentment. It’s always about her – as though no one else exists. What about all the others?
‘Karina’s the past,’ Jack said, softly. ‘Alicia’s my future.’ And, before I could snatch it away, he reached for my hand and lifted it to his lips.
As a kiss, it was nothing – a little charade hardly worthy of my reaction – yet at the same time it was everything. A breach in the many-layered wall I’d built round me since Troy. A threat to the control with which I lived my life. And something even more worrying – because part of me didn’t want to snatch my hand away at all.
When at last he lowered my hand from his lips, he kept it curled within his. In the still of the evening, my pulse raced. It might only be role play, but the effects were unnervingly real.
Bill was asking me about my job. In my confusion, I blurted out, ‘I’m an executive coach.’
‘Oh?’ Midge leaned forward, while Jack’s grip on my hand tightened, ever so slightly. ‘What does that involve?’
‘Helping organisations to get the best out of their senior management,’ I said, seizing my chance to inject a bigger shot of truth into this escalating fantasy world.
A bark of laughter from Bill. ‘Maybe Jack could recommend you to Leo Components.’
‘Funny you should say that.’ A pause, to let Jack sweat a little. ‘We were talking about something similar on the way here – weren’t we, darling? Only problem is,’ – a resigned sigh – ‘I couldn’t possibly date one of my clients. Conflict of interest and all that.’
‘Too right,’ Jack said quickly. ‘If it comes down to having Alicia as my girlfriend or my coach, then give me the girlfriend every time.’ His eyes danced, as if goading me to respond – or at least enjoy the irony.
Terrier-like, Midge persisted with the earlier subject. ‘And how long have you two been together? Jack was vague about that, as well.’
The question caught me off guard. Even in a totally hypothetical situation, I wouldn’t have gone away for the weekend with him this early. It was only the second time we’d met, for God’s sake. I plucked a figure out of thin air and replied, ‘Two months’ – just as Jack said, ‘A couple of weeks.’ I raised my eyebrows at him as if to say, ‘Get yourself out of that.’ He went on, ‘We’ve only been, er, close for a couple of weeks, although of course Alicia’s right – we met almost two months ago.’
Close? In other words, having sex. Huh, in his dreams. I picked up my glass with my free hand, and yanked the other from his grasp on the pretext of taking an olive. Then, with all physical contact broken, I redirected the conversation to safer territory. ‘Where are we going tomorrow? I can’t wait to do some hillwalking.’
‘It’ll depend on the forecast.’ Jack looked across at Midge and Bill. ‘Which is …?’
‘I’ll go into Keswick first thing in the morning,’ Bill said, ‘and look at the local forecast outside the Moot Hall. That one’s far more reliable than anyone else’s. If it’s good, we thought we’d go up Skidder with a picnic lunch. Is that okay with you, Alicia?’
‘Sounds wonderful – except I’d better reserve judgement until I know what going up Skidder means.’
‘It’s the local name for Skiddaw,’ Jack said. ‘Fourth highest peak in the Lakes after the Scafells and Helvellyn.’
A moment of panic at the mention of ‘fourth highest’. Can I fabricate a dodgy ankle? Too late – I should have used that as an excuse right at the start. ‘Is it, um, much of a climb? I’m not a big fan of heights.’
Bill gave me a reassuring grin. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not too bad. No nasty ridges like Helvellyn, or Blencathra behind us.’
‘You’ll be fine, love,’ Jack added, with a mischievous grin. ‘We both know you’re a slave to the gym.’
Fantastic; not only am I pretending to be his current bedmate throughout the weekend – I’m also having to act as if I’m super fit. At this precise moment, I’m not sure which will be the bigger challenge.
‘Let’s eat,’ Midge said. ‘Come to the kitchen, both of you, and give me a hand to carry the food out. Five minutes, Bill?’
‘Aye, the meat’s all cooked, I’m just letting it rest.’
It was a surprisingly relaxed meal, in the shadow of Blencathra, among the heady scents of an English garden at the close of a sun-drenched day. I asked Bill about his work, to establish an unobtrusive springboard for further discussions. But I didn’t force the issue, especially when Midge started to talk about the latest exploits of some of the village characters. As she had the timing of a born comic, her anecdotes made for plenty of laughter.
Darkness fell swiftly – or perhaps I was too engrossed in the conversation to notice it enveloping us. Time to bring today’s deception to an end and try out the motorhome, with all that would involve. Even though I wasn’t expecting Jack to hit on me, the prospect of being alone with him in a confined space – in a bed, for God’s sake! – filled me with apprehension.
I finished my wine and got to my feet. ‘Let me help with the clearing up, then I’ll say goodnight.’
Midge insisted, however, that they could manage; next thing I knew, I was walking hand in hand with Jack through the garden. The sky was a tapestry of tiny stars, the moon pinned against it like a giant pearl. I was too busy looking up to watch my step; inevitable, then, that I tripped and almost fell …
It had been so long since I’d let a man hold me this close – how could it feel natural? Yet, in the cradle of his arms, I felt my body shiver at the haunting memory of physical and emotional need. In an act of pure self-preservation, I buried my face in his shoulder. Because, whereas an embrace could be construed as an instinctive move to break my fall, a kiss would spell disaster.
Not that I would ever kiss him – but he might be tempted to try it.
‘Are you okay?’ His voice in the darkness was soft as a caress.
‘Of course,’ I lied.
He released me, gently but firmly, sought my hand again, and we continued through the garden. After a moment, he said, ‘Your stumble was well timed. Midge appeared, saw us, and turned back. If she didn’t want to disturb us, it must have looked like a convincing clinch.’
I couldn’t think of a reply but, as we reached the motorhome, my heart started to pound. Putting on a show for the others – intentionally or otherwise – was one thing; spending the next ten hours or so in enforced intimacy was an entirely different matter.
He opened the door, leaned in to switch on the light, and hung back to let me go in. When I glanced over my shoulder to see if he was following, he said, ‘I think I’ll have a nightcap with Midge and Bill – give you some privacy.’
My stomach churned; relief and, in a strange way, disappointment. I spun round, veiling my confusion with a sardonic laugh. ‘Won’t they think it’s odd that you’re not exactly – well, jumping into bed with me? Aren’t we still at that stage in our relationship?’
‘We certainly are. But we’re both tired – and anyway, there’s always the morning.’
Oh God, does he have even that worked out?
I fumbled desperately for a different subject. ‘Midge and Bill are good company. I like them very much.’
‘They like you very much too. I can tell.’ A pause. ‘You know, tonight went better than I’d dared hope.’
‘In spite of the ballet?’
A wry smile. ‘In spite of the ballet. Although I’m already thinking how to pay you back for that.’
‘Didn’t you get your revenge by making me out to be – how did you put it? – a slave to the gym? That’ll take some living up to tomorrow.’
‘Doubt it, you look in good shape to me.’
An echo of the first time we met, when his eyes had told me the same thing – except he’d gone on to apologise for it. And later he’d informed Nick Suggett that I wasn’t his type – but then tried to deny it. Why did it matter whether he found me attractive? I was adding a totally unnecessary complication to an already difficult relationship …
His low chuckle interrupted my attack of self-reproach. ‘You know, it felt weird when you said you’d never date one of your clients. My first thought was – hang on, I am your client.’
‘But we’re not dating, are we?’ I countered, swiftly. ‘Anyway, you said something just as weird – that you didn’t want me as your coach. Not so long ago you said the exact opposite.’
‘What I said tonight was – if it’s a choice between having you as my girlfriend or my coach, then give me the girlfriend every time. That’s not necessarily a contradiction with saying I want you as my coach, is it?’ His voice was soft, and flirtatious, and for a moment I almost believed him. Which would have been a really stupid thing to do.
Hoping that he wouldn’t see my blushes, I mumbled a goodnight and turned away. Behind me the door closed, leaving me alone with my trepidation.
I had enjoyed the evening far more than I’d expected to – and that meant I had to be even more on my guard tomorrow. Always assuming, of course, that I got through tonight.