Sunday dawned bright and cheerful; Lucy was awoken by the chirruping birds tweeting from their high viewpoint on the leafy tree outside Rory’s bedroom window. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts and get her bearings, she turned over to find herself face to face with him, breathtakingly gorgeous in sleep, his stubble darker and thicker, his dark eyelashes curling from eyelids still heavy with dreams. She smiled contentedly to herself, stretching out her aching limbs, the post-coital glow still radiated from every cell in her body. Tucking herself near him, he rolled his arm over her, pulling her closer to him in his sleep, spooning the back of her body. She couldn’t put her finger on it but she knew something was different this time, that Rory was somehow different from any other man she had met. Blissfully happy, Lucy allowed herself to close her eyes, drifting back into a deep sleep.
She awoke a while later and turned over to find an empty bed. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and yawned, stretching once more like a starfish across the bed.
Lucy looked blearily around the room, spotting a cosy-looking tartan dressing gown hanging on the back of the door and wrapping herself in it. She went to the bathroom and borrowed Rory’s toothbrush to brush her teeth. Then she padded down the corridor, the lush carpet soft underneath her feet, and tiptoed down the stairs, listening for any noises from around the house. It was eerily quiet. She made her way to the kitchen, calling out ‘Rory?’ but there was no reply. Rufus was nowhere to be seen either. All of a sudden she heard the front door slam shut and the light patter of Rufus’s claws clattering against the tiles.
Rory called out ‘Lucy?’ in his deep voice.
She replied, ‘In here!’ from the kitchen.
He burst into the room with Rufus lapping around his ankles, bringing a blast of fresh air in with him. His cheeks were rosy from the chill outside and his eyes sparkled. The crow’s feet seemed deeper than ever as he beamed at her; in his hand he held two takeaway cups and a paper bag full to the brim with pastries.
‘Morning!’ he sang, coming over to Lucy and kissing her warmly on the lips, causing her stomach to lurch. His kiss lingered for a second or two, then he kissed her again. ‘You look gorgeous! My dressing gown really suits you!’ he smiled.
‘Why thank you, kind sir!’ Lucy replied, doing a little twirl and striking a pose. ‘I have rather a limited selection of clothing to choose from!’
‘We’ll have to get you home to get a change of clothes at some point,’ said Rory, putting the coffees and the paper bag onto the kitchen table. ‘But I’m not sure I’m going to be able to let you out of my sight,’ he muttered, looking at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wrapped her in a bear hug and kissed her again. ‘I got you a cappuccino, I’m afraid there were no chai lattes at the local cafe, but they do serve excellent coffee.’
‘I love coffee in the morning, that’s perfect. Thank you so much. Is that breakfast you’ve got there?’ asked Lucy, feeling hungry after their late night activities.
‘Rufus needed to go out so I took him for a run around the park, hence the tracksuit,’ he said gesturing to his grey joggers, ‘we stopped off to buy croissants on the way back. They’re still warm!’
‘Yum!’ said Lucy. ‘My favourite.’ Her tummy was rumbling at the thought.
He popped back to the front door to collect the paper, which had been delivered, and they sat at the kitchen table, sipping their coffee, eating their croissants with generous lashings of black cherry jam, and reading the Sunday Times. Lucy was more interested in the magazine supplements than anything else, but Rory filled her in on the headlines. Rufus snuffled around underneath the table, hoovering up any crumbs or flakes of pastry that made their way down to him. Lucy couldn’t believe how at ease she felt in Rory’s presence. It was as if she had known him all her life, she couldn’t understand how it was possible to feel so comfortable with a virtual stranger but she did.
When breakfast was over, Lucy said, ‘Do you mind if I have a shower?’
‘I think that is a fantastic idea,’ said Rory, leaning closer to her and kissing her on the lips. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’ he asked, resulting in another hour or two back in bed.
Lucy had never felt so completely and utterly satisfied by a man; he was amazing… such stamina! Her lips stung from being kissed so much and her muscles ached even more. Her phone was buzzing manically with voicemails from Claudia, her mum, and Tor. All of them rightly assumed that she would be available on a Sunday morning for their weekly catch-ups. Only Claudia was suspicious, wanting to know exactly what reason Lucy had for not answering her phone.
Having finally wrenched themselves apart and out of bed, Lucy insisted that it was about time she went home to get a change of clothes. It was already way past midday and the sun was still shining, Rory clipped the lead on Rufus and they set off towards Baron’s Court. They held hands as they squinted in the bright sunshine, their spirits sky-high, laughing and stopping for the odd kiss as they went, not a care in the world.
Lucy had sent a cryptic text to Claudia and Tor, saying something about being otherwise engaged and promising to fill them in as soon as possible. This had resulted in another barrage of texts from Claudia, the detective, determined not to be left out of any potential gossip. Tor had merely sent back a cheery:
Sounds interesting! No rush...Enjoy!xx.
Lucy had also sent her mother a message saying she was busy and promising to call in the week.
As they rounded the corner towards Baron’s Court, Lucy pointed out all her favourite local spots to Rory. The whole of London looked infinitely more attractive and charming in the bright light of a sunny day, and Lucy found herself feeling incredibly fond of where she lived. They turned onto Mayfield Road and sauntered up the street, two lovebirds beaming from ear to ear. Rufus sniffed happily at tree stumps and lamp posts as he went.
At number 13, Lucy announced that they had arrived at their destination, unlocking the front door and picking up some post that had arrived yesterday from the communal letter box as she went in. She led Rufus and Rory up the three flights of steps to her flat, letting them in and saying, ‘Welcome to my humble abode!’ As Rory took a step inside and looked around, Lucy felt proud of her little flat; it was at its best with the beams of light streaming through the big bay window by the window seat, illuminating everything with a warm glow.
‘I love it!’ declared Rory. ‘It’s so cute! Such a homely feel to it…’ he said, as he wondered around the sitting room, looking at the higgledy-piggledy books stacked on the shelves. ‘You’ve done a great job. All the distressed furniture is such a great look.’
‘Thanks! I distressed it myself,’ said Lucy.
Rory raised an eyebrow in admiration before asking, ‘Where shall I put Rufus?’
‘Good question!’ said Lucy, ‘I hadn’t really thought of that. Is he okay in the corner on the rug for now?’
‘He’s grand anywhere,’ said Rory. ‘Aren’t you, boy? So long as it’s okay with you.’ Rufus wagged his tail obligingly and settled, as directed, on the stripy rug in the corner of the room, under a free-standing lamp.
Lucy offered Rory a drink, pouring him a glass of elderflower cordial from the fridge, before popping into her bedroom to change her clothes, leaving Rory skimming through a magazine from the pile on the coffee table.
Alone in her bedroom, Lucy pondered what to change into. She wasn’t sure if they would be spending the night with each other, but she certainly hoped they would; she didn’t want to spend a second without him if at all possible. She changed her underwear, choosing her best matching set, a pretty shade of coral silk, and pulled on a stretchy jumper dress in black and white stripes, and a pair of black tights. She applied some make-up for the first time since yesterday morning, only a little so as not to be too much of a contrast to her nude appearance of the last twenty-four hours, and subtly straightened her fringe. Spritzing herself with her Chanel no.5, she flung open the bedroom door and went back into the sitting room, eliciting a long, drawn-out wolf whistle from Rory followed by an approving ‘Woof’ from Rufus, which made them both chuckle.
‘She looks nice, doesn’t she, Rufus? You daft old boy!’ Rory said, laughing at his dog, who was sitting with his head cocked to one side, looking quizzically at them both. ‘What do you want to do now?’ asked Rory, as Lucy sat on his lap at the kitchen table and gave him a kiss.
‘Do you fancy watching a movie?’ suggested Lucy.
‘Great idea,’ agreed Rory.
Lucy reached for the remote control and they scanned through the movies on the planner, then the box office, finally settling on some new thriller that they had both missed at the cinema. They spent a relaxing afternoon on the sofa, cuddled up to one another, gripped by the twists and turns of the plot
After the film had finished they took Rufus out for a walk on the green nearby then popped into Sainsbury’s to buy ingredients for a roast dinner, leaving Rufus whining on the lead. Lucy put a small, corn-fed chicken into her basket, some roasting potatoes, onions for bread sauce, vegetables and milk. With their stomachs starting to rumble at the prospect of a traditional Sunday roast, they returned to the flat. Rory had picked up an enormous cardboard box from outside the shop, and he ripped off the edges to make a low, makeshift basket for Rufus in his little corner. Lucy found an old, ripped sleeping bag that Ollie had left behind the Christmas before last and donated it to Rufus’s new bed. Having wolfed down the dog food that Rory had bought him from Sainsbury’s, he settled happily with a sigh of contentment into his cosy basket.
Lucy put her iPod in the dock, filling the room with the spellbinding, deep voice of Nina Simone. Rory and Lucy worked in the kitchen in perfect harmony to prepare their meal, chatting all the while, teasing each other about how to improve on their culinary techniques, competing over whose mother had taught whom best. Once again she marvelled at how completely at ease she felt in his company. She hadn’t found the tiniest thing about him annoying or off-putting, it was as if he were too good to be true.
Lucy rubbed butter into the prickled skin of the chicken, chopping a lemon in half and inserting it deep into the cavity, then she turned the oven on to heat up. Rory set about peeling and chopping the potatoes ready for roasting, while Lucy placed a baking tray of fat in the oven to heat up in preparation. With the potatoes parboiling, they put the chicken in the oven and carefully spooned the potatoes into the steaming hot fat, spitting and hissing as each fluffy potato hit the pan. Lucy made the bread sauce, setting Rory the task of chopping the onions, and they got the vegetables ready to cook later.
Standing back to take a look at Lucy, Rory said, ‘Oh dear, I’m afraid you’ve been a little bit clumsy,’ his hands on his hips. ‘What a messy pup!’ he said, getting a wet cloth from the sink to attempt to wipe her face.
‘Oy, you can’t talk!’ screeched Lucy as she dodged the incoming cloth. ‘You’ve got a piece of potato peel in your hair, you muppet!’ she said as she extracted it, dangling it in front of him as proof.
‘Who are you calling a muppet?’ asked Rory, chasing after Lucy with the cloth. Shrieking, she ran around the kitchen table, Rory in close pursuit. He pinned her down by the window seat, tickling her until she begged for mercy, and wiping the flour from her face. Barely able to breathe from laughter, they lay collapsed on top of each other, gasping for breath.
‘What are we going to do while we wait for the roast to cook?’ asked Lucy, batting her eyelashes innocently.
‘Mmm, I can’t think,’ muttered Rory, as he pinned her down with the full length of his body. ‘Actually, I’ve got an idea,’ he said, his voice deeper and lower all of a sudden as he kissed her, grinding his hips against hers, before picking her up as though she was as light as a feather and carrying her into the bedroom.
Wrapped once more in a dressing gown, Lucy padded out of her bedroom an hour or so later to baste the chicken and turn the potatoes, by now a crisp, golden brown. Having worked up an impressive appetite once again, she set about blitzing some bread crumbs in the blender for the bread sauce. Stirring in milk, onions and seasoning with salt and pepper, she flicked on the kettle, smiling to herself as she heard Rory’s rich baritone singing from the shower. Rufus came over to sniff around her feet as she cooked. It was so nice having a dog around, she chatted away to him merrily as she laid the table, setting two place mats and a candle in the centre. She opened a bottle of red wine and poured herself and Rory a glass, it was a Spanish Rioja, and as Lucy sipped it, she savoured the rich, fruity taste.
She poured boiling water over the cauliflower florets, fetching some peas from the freezer and putting them in a small pan. As she stirred the bread sauce, Rory came out of the bedroom, wearing a T-shirt and her kikoi draped around his legs. He wrapped his arms around her and she leant back into him, enjoying having someone to cook with and chat to once again in her flat.
Rory insisted that his speciality was making gravy so he took over the final stages of the roast, setting the chicken to rest on the carving board, sprinkling plain flour and some of the red wine into the juices from the meat, and adding some of the water from the vegetables. He left Lucy to stir it while he set about carving the chicken, shaving thin slices of breast meat as juicy and succulent as could be. With the roast finally ready, and Rufus satisfied with a couple of scraps from the carving board, they piled their plates high and sat at the table, eating their hard-earned meal and listing their favourite foods, the best meals they had ever eaten, and the most exotic.
‘I’ll win this one, hands down!’ announced Rory.
‘What was it?’ asked Lucy,
‘Lambs testicle!’ he said proudly.
‘Eurgh,’ said Lucy. ‘That is disgusting… why? Where?’
‘It was a dare while I was travelling in Africa after finishing school. It was pretty horrendous, I’m not going to lie. What about you? Can you trump that?’
‘Cow stomach.’
‘That does sound pretty rank.’
‘But I’m ashamed to admit I couldn’t eat it. It was like a sheet of the thickest rubber imaginable, and worse, you could see the spiky villi all over it…’ Lucy went green at the thought.
‘I definitely win then!’ laughed Rory. ‘I’m no wimp!’ Lucy gave him a playful shove.
After their meal, pleasantly full and with wine glasses topped up, they settled on the sofa to watch some Sunday night television.
Later, as they got into bed, Rory having taken Rufus out for a last run around the green, she felt as deep a sense of contentment as she had ever felt. She knew, without the slightest trace of doubt, that she was in exactly the right place at the right time, and, most importantly, that she was with exactly the right person.