“What?” Ted had been dozing.
“She had it all along.”
“What?”
“The proof!” I started talking fast and furiously, pointing to pages in the diaries, picking up other volumes, half showing him the words on the pages. “Maureen was devastated when he told her he would be leaving for India without her. She told David of Vijay’s plans. David wanted to confiscate everything but she persuaded him not to, they arranged to allow him most of what he had. But Max thought that David had betrayed Vijay and would do the same to him. It’s all here.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“We need to see Vijay and Sandeep. I’ve got what they need to control Ramesh.” I waved one of Maureen’s diaries triumphantly at Ted. “It’s all here!” I rushed over to him, just remembering to stop before getting too close.
“Don’t call them straight away, Annie, get it all together, organise it properly. Don’t rush.”
“But we can go home. They can’t keep us…” I started excitedly, but as I saw the look on Ted’s face I tailed off weakly. “… here any more.”
“What will we do then Annie? What will we do when we go home? These few days have been so good.”
“You’ll be able to sleep in a proper bed.” I tried to joke but it wasn’t the right moment.
Ted gently took the diary out of my grasp and put it on the desk. Slowly and deliberately he took my hands, holding them tightly, not letting me get remove them from his grasp.
“Annie. We’ve got to stay together. Do you think you would ever want to marry me?”
“But…” I started, but not being able to think of anything sensible, said nothing more.
Ted seemed to be encouraged that I hadn’t looked completely horrified at his proposal and continued. “I’ve loved these days, being here together. But I’ve hated every night, you have been so close and I couldn’t touch you.”
“Oh shit.”
He was quiet then spoke gently “Is it that such an awful thought?”
There was so much history between us, I had loved this man for many years in a very different way from the way he was now asking me to feel. We had avoided facing this for the past week. It could be avoided no longer.
“You love me?”
“I’m very much afraid I do.”
“Properly?”
“Whatever that means. I want to touch you, to kiss you, to make love to you.”
Part of me wanted to say no. But I looked at him. I really looked at him. He was an attractive man. He was kind, generous, loving, thoughtful, generous, honest, reliable, steadfast.
What was there not to love?
“Annie! Say something!”
“Shall we just try one kiss? See how that goes?”
He leant towards me, awkwardly, and I let him put his arms around me. I hadn’t realised how much taller he was than me. His neck bent as he lent his face down towards mine. I had only a short sight of the hair behind his ear as his lips met mine.
It was a long time since I had kissed anyone properly.
Gentleness became urgency, his hand placed protectively on the back of my neck began to press more forcefully. I was more than aware of every inch of his body as it pressed against mine. Very gently, very deliberately he pulled away from me.
“That went well didn’t it?” He asked knowing the answer.
I think I smiled.
“Annie you know that we will have to live with what we do now for the rest of our lives.”
I leant up and kissed him. More than I had wanted anything, ever, I wanted this man to make love to me.
“Are you sure?”
I kissed him again.
“Are you absolutely certain?”
Finally he kissed me back.
I’d made love with a few men but never like this. It was comfortable, emotional, satisfying, and completely right. He was gentle, urgent, encouraging, patient, demanding, traditional and adventurous. Nothing had ever felt so right in all my life. Afterwards we lay on the bed, wrapped up in each other, our bodies lying perfectly against the other. I breathed in when he breathed out, and out when he breathed in.
I could just see his face. He was smiling as he traced his finger along my arm.
“Can you face it?” He asked as he turned me over and folded me in his arms.
“What?”
“The world?”
“What?”
“I don’t know about you, Annie darling, but that, for me, was a statement of intent.”
“What?” I knew I was sounding idiotic.
“I want us to be together. Not furtive, not hiding, not surreptitious, not frightened of what people will say. I want to go back to England hand in hand saying that we are going to live together, that we are going to be together. That we are a couple, that you might, one day, actually want to be my wife.”
He realised then he had gone too far.
“I can’t…I don’t …. Please….” Was all I could say as I pushed him away.
“One thing at a time then. Will you come back to live with me but properly live with me, not separate rooms at opposite ends of the landing?”
“I will never get married again.” I was sitting up, my knees drawn up to my chest, my arms around my legs. “At least not for a while.”
“I’m sorry, I got carried away.”
I couldn’t bear the pain in his voice.
“But I rather like the idea of trying living together.” I felt suddenly shy. “Will people understand?”
“Who’s ‘people’?”
“The children, Charles, Linda.”
“They will be happy for you, for us. They are very fond of you, you know. Linda has done a fabulous job, she has never tried to take over your position as their mother, she has always made them send you cards and letters at Christmas and birthdays and when Bill did something particularly brilliant with his arrows. They care about you far more than you could imagine. In those few weeks after your accident and especially that day after the hurricane they realised they quite liked you as well.”