chapter forty-three

 

London June 2011

 

Michael arrived at the Bloomsbury address in a state of near panic. Normally unfazed by anything, for some reason he was nervous about seeing Fiona again after the two weeks break. He knew his feelings for her were strong and their kiss at the airport had melted his insides. By the look on her face, she had felt something too. And now she planned to move back to London; they could have a proper relationship. Which was what he wanted, but also slightly scared him. He didn’t want to be hurt again. As he stood on the doorstep of the imposing Georgian town house, he took a deep breath before pushing the bell.

The impressive mahogany door opened and Fiona stood there, smiling and looking gorgeous in a silk purple blouse and a short black skirt.

‘Hi, good to see you. Come in.’

He stepped inside, barely registering the beauty of the entrance hall, his eyes on Fiona. Taking a step forward, he kissed her mouth, gently holding her arms. He felt her respond and they stood, lips pressed together for several seconds before he pulled back with a smile.

‘Hi, it’s good to see you, too. And you look fantastic. That week at the retreat seems to have done you good.’

‘It was amazing. I’ll tell you more over dinner, and you can tell me your news. Let me grab my bag and a jacket.’

He watched as she collected her things from a large, antique table in the middle of the spacious hall, at the same time taking in the exquisite proportions of the hall and staircase.

‘This is some place Charlotte has. Beats my tiny flat in Battersea,’ he grinned.

‘It’s been in the family for yonks, probably like your farmhouse.’ Slipping on her jacket before he could help her, she added, ‘Shall we go?’

The restaurant, a bustling Greek bistro, was in a neighbouring street, and they arrived five minutes later. As they were shown to their corner table, Fiona remarked how she loved Greek food, giving him a dazzling smile. Michael felt the previous nervousness dissolve and began to relax. While they perused the menu, he ordered two glasses of champagne. Fiona’s eyebrows rose.

‘Are we celebrating something?’

‘Sort of. We’ve had a nibble from a buyer for the Renoir, and we’ll have a definite answer in a week, but Christie’s are pretty confident it’ll be a yes. So, three and a half million pounds is worth celebrating, don’t you think?’

‘Definitely, I’m so pleased for you all. And I’ve been offered a contract with the V&A, so we both have cause to celebrate.’

‘That’s great, we…’ The waiter arrived with their champagne, and they touched glasses before taking a sip.

‘Lovely. I’m so pleased you asked me to dinner, it’s a perfect way to celebrate my return to the big smoke.’ She smiled at him over the rim of her flute.

He cleared his throat.

‘It’s my pleasure. Now, I want to hear all about your plans. What about the business and your house?’

His eyes never left her face as she explained about the changes she was making. Not only was he mesmerised by her animated expression, but he was also impressed with what she’d already accomplished and how clear-headed she was compared to a couple of weeks ago. She was to start her job mid-July, a little over two weeks away, so not long to wait, he thought, pleased. Occasionally, he caught sight of the sadness at the back of her eyes, particularly when she mentioned Nigel, and she would become quiet as if her mind was elsewhere. But she soon rallied, and he managed to make her laugh at a joke he’d heard recently.

They talked about his family and their plans once the sale of the painting went through and the evening sped by. All too soon it was time to escort Fiona back home, and he kept his hand on her elbow as they walked the few yards to Charlotte’s house. The evening was warm, with a cloudless sky, and Michael wanted so much for it not to end. They stood on the steps to say goodnight, and he pulled her towards him, before lifting her chin for a kiss. As she opened her mouth, he let his tongue probe hers, and the kiss lasted until Fiona drew back, laughing, saying she needed air.

Pushing her hair back from her face, he said, ‘That was nice. I wouldn’t mind more of that.’

Fiona looked wistful.

‘Me too, but I can’t ask you in…’

‘Hey, I understand. But when you’re back next month, can we go out together? As a couple? I’d love for us to get to know each other better if it’s okay with you.’

‘It’s very okay with me. In the meantime there’s the phone, we can keep in touch.’ She smiled, tracing her finger down his cheek.

‘We will, I promise.’