They took their tea into the sitting room and sat together on the sofa. ‘On with my lonely life then,’ Ahmed said, settling a hand between Nattie’s thighs.
‘The day I saw you’d got married, I flipped. I went straight out to get drunk – first alcohol for a year – which was all part of being so messed up and guilty,’ he added, not wanting her to think he was having a go. ‘And being flat broke as well. I’d been thinking of ways to make money, though – for when I could come back for you – but instead I stayed on with the charity, ARC.’
Ahmed kissed her mouth, wanting more and wishing there was time. ‘I did begin a relationship while I was at ARC,’ he admitted. ‘It was with a native Canadian girl whose brother had come to Vancouver and found no work. He was sleeping on the streets, spaced out. She and I helped him over the worst and she persuaded him to go back with her to their small home community in the forest up in north-east British Columbia. She’d worked in a hairdresser’s in Vancouver, but jacked it in. She and her brother were very close.
‘I went too. She’d fallen for me, I knew. It helped to have someone adoring and needing me, but she wasn’t you.’
‘What was her name?’
‘Alyana.’
‘I know I shouldn’t mind about her,’ Nattie said, looking like she did mind, very much. ‘Were you together a long time?’
‘About a year – I’d got sucked into all the problems and issues her people faced. It was weird, living in that community. I soon got mighty sick of acorn pancakes, buffalo and fish-head stew – which I can cook you any time, by the way. It’s made with various bits of a salmon, not only the head.’
‘No, thanks.’
‘The big issue for the aboriginals was fracking. It’s a real concern. They live by hunting and fishing, tourism, forest products, and if the fracking’s done by cowboys and the wells aren’t properly capped, bad greenhouse gases like methane can cause contamination. It’s a minimal risk and I won’t bore you with the detail, but it’s vital that everything’s regulated and tied up tight.
‘Quebec and Nova Scotia had imposed moratoriums and Alyana’s community wanted one for their province. Things were getting going, hearings underway, so I joined in and fought the aboriginal cause. I was living from hand to mouth, but still had my New York sharp suits, I could look the part at the hearings. Having worked on the Post I knew how the media works. I could maximise the coverage, feed stories to lazy reporters and punchier angles to the more serious press. I began to get noticed, which I didn’t really want. I’d become a bit of a liability, in fact, in terms of fighting the community’s cause. Trouble was, I could see both sides.’
‘And you were with Alyana all this time?’
‘Mostly. But I’d started to have itchy feet. Ideas come into your head when you’re sitting on a log in the forest or pathetically trying to fish. I’d reached the point of wanting to move on.’ He stroked her cheek. ‘Another cup of tea, or shall I keep going?’
Nattie was looking at her watch when her mobile rang. She paled. They’d both jumped, hearing the tone, and she shot out of the door as if her phone was a starting gun. ‘My bag’s in the hall,’ she called back. ‘I’ll never get to it in time.’
Ahmed cursed inwardly. It was sure to be Hugo, home early, or with some problem or other to cause stress. He went to the door to listen to her side of the conversation, tense to the tips of his fingernails.
‘Hi, darling! You okay?’ Nattie asked brightly, a bit artificially. ‘Sounds like you’re still there. You’re not still going with lunch, surely? . . . So when do you think you’ll leave?
‘No, I’m not actually there yet,’ she continued, after a long pause. ‘I, um, decided to come into town. I’m rather out of clothes and it’s always such a rush, trying to shop in my lunch hour or trailing Tubsy round in the buggy.’
Ahmed smiled to himself. He’d thought she might need an excuse and had taken care of it. He was burning to know how much time they had, though, and Hugo seemed to be talking for an age.
‘Okay,’ Nattie said, getting a word in at last, glancing his way with a hopeful smile in her eyes. ‘Yes, darling, me too. Drive safely. Kiss to Lils and Tubs.’
She clicked off and Ahmed, seeing the look in those beautiful amber eyes, felt ready to swoon. She was naked under the wrap. He went up close and took the phone, dropped it back into her handbag, which was on the floor by the door – they’d been oblivious, coming in. He slipped his arms inside the wrap and round her waist. ‘How long have we got?’ He found her mouth, not waiting for an answer
‘Couple of hours, max. I must be home first.’ She drew back and stared at him, her mood flipping, tears brimming in her eyes. He kissed each of them in turn.
‘What’s wrong? Tell me,’ he said, fondling her hair. ‘What did Hugo talk about for so long?’
‘Two of his aunts who’d come to lunch, which slowed things up to our advantage.’ She gave a forlorn half-smile. ‘His aunts still resent his being left the house; they feel entitled to use it as a pit stop on London visits. One’s coming tomorrow. I’ll have to do lunch, but it’s not that. It’s just . . .’ Nattie looked away and back again. ‘He’d called the house phone first, you see. He knew I wasn’t home. I can’t bear this deception and lies.’
‘But you managed a neat little sidestep.’ Ahmed smiled, touching her face. ‘It was hardly an outright lie. “I’m rather out of clothes”! Quite accurate, really.’
She pulled away. ‘Don’t make light of it,’ she said huffily. ‘I can’t cope.’
‘It’s no good getting too heavy either,’ he said, leading her back to the sofa where she sat stiffly forwards with her head bent. ‘It’s not going to help. I swore to myself this morning I was going to say – even if there hadn’t been Hugo to worry about – that I couldn’t let you take even a minimal risk. But God, it’s hard!’
She lifted her head and stared, wide-eyed. ‘I don’t rate this business about the house opposite,’ she said, with a determined expression. ‘I can’t not see you again, I just can’t.’ She started to cry, shoulders heaving.
‘Suppose we take it very slowly,’ Ahmed said, gathering her up, feeling the full weight of responsibility – and the weight of his guilt. ‘I’ll try to check out the house opposite, get the measure of who’s going in and out. There’s a family next door on one side, with twin girls who have lots of giggling friends, and an elderly couple on the other. The immediate neighbours seem fine,’ he said, releasing her, ‘but, Nattie darling, suppose Hugo found out? He could do, you’d have to be prepared for that. I want to be with you now, tomorrow, for life, but as well as the risk of word getting back to my enemies and anyone tracking me down, you do have to face up to what coming here would mean. Skirting round things, evasion, even telling outright lies . . .’
‘Do you think I haven’t been facing up to what it means – every which way, every second since you got in touch?’
She was staring at him, tight with tension, and Ahmed held her gaze. ‘We had to have this conversation,’ he said. ‘I’ve been planning to touch base with Tom, now I’m back – if you’d be happy for me to do so. He’s a good friend, the best, along with Jake, and I’d trust him with my life. Tom’s this side of London, so you could always have been seeing him if you needed somewhere to have been. He’d be prepared to help, I’m sure, and cover for us if need be.’ Ahmed knew how much Nattie adored her stepbrother and he didn’t believe Tom would let anything slip to his father – nor to Victoria, which was more to the point.
‘It would help hugely to share it with Tom,’ Nattie said. ‘He’ll understand more than anyone. He knows what it’s like – he’s still in love with Maudie. Will you tell him, though, and explain?’ She gave a shy smile. ‘I’d find it a bit hard.’
‘Why don’t I ask him round at a time you can be here – a detour on your way home from the office. We can tell him together.’
Nattie leaned against him. ‘I love you so very much,’ she sighed. ‘You know what’s best, you do it right.’
He kissed her purposefully, laying her backwards, and his hand that had gravitated back between her thighs after Hugo’s call began stroking her, feeling its way to a point where she couldn’t hold in her moans. ‘There’re no nets on these windows,’ she mumbled, making space for him on the narrow sofa, ‘somebody might look in.’
‘They’d need to be very tall. Of all our worries . . .’