25. Twenty-Five
Twenty-Five
B arbara is standing on the doorstep bright and early the next morning, looking very sophisticated in a cream polo neck jumper and slim beige trousers. A pair of round Chanel sunglasses sit on top of her head. Thankfully, I'm dressed and showered, and I was just about to make breakfast. Two out of three isn't bad.
I'm instantly nervous. "Oh, er … hello, Barbara."
"Good morning, Sophie dear. Are you okay?"
I ruined her birthday and gave her a pretty big shock yesterday. I didn't expect this. "Erm, yes, I'm fine, thank you."
Her eyes scan me up and down like she's making sure I really am okay.
I smile politely. "Come on in."
She follows me into the kitchen.
"Art's not in. He'd already left to go for a run when I got up."
"It's you I'm here to see. "
This sounds ominous.
She sits her expensive-looking handbag on the counter and takes a seat on a stool. "I've not been able to stop thinking about the terrible to-do yesterday. I just had to come to see how you were."
I begin to relax slightly. Maybe she's not annoyed with me. "I'm fine. I'm just sorry you found out that way." I hesitate. "But Aisling told me things that I really didn't want to hear."
"She's always had a bit of sting in her tail, that one," Barbara says darkly.
"I'm sorry I ruined your birthday."
"You did nothing of the sort. Aisling did that." She raps her polished nails against the marble top and looks at me thoughtfully. "I'd always known there was something there, but I could never put my finger on it. I just thought … I never dreamt … she was his therapist. A friend of the family. Poor Cecilia took the news even worse than I did. She was very proud of Aisling's achievements, and to think she's been so unprofessional is heart-breaking. Don't get me wrong; I know Art's no saint, and it takes two to tango, but what she did was despicable. I told her I want nothing more to do with her." She smiles. "But I needed to see for myself that you were okay."
"I'm fine, really. Thank you."
She reaches forward and picks up my left hand, twisting my engagement ring between her fingers. "I remember the day Arthur proposed as if it were yesterday. We'd gone for a stroll in Richmond Park. It started out a lovely autumn afternoon, but we hadn't been out five minutes, and it bucketed down. We took shelter under a huge oak tree, and he popped the question." She smiles fondly at the memory. "That was one of the best days of my life. And when Art came to us, of course."
She lowers my hand but doesn't let go. "Just because Art doesn't tell me things doesn't mean I don't know. He's successful and good-looking. I can only imagine what he's got up to over the years. I so wanted him to settle down but never thought he'd do it. But I knew you were different. That evening, when he was drunk and called me by mistake, I knew. He didn't need to tell me you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. I could tell just from the way he said your name how much he cared for you, that the thought he'd messed things up was killing him. And when I met you that day when he was hungover, I knew I was right. You were upset, but I could see you loved him, and that's why I told you about his past." She smiles to herself knowingly. "I wanted you to know, so you'd understand him. He's complex."
My throat tightens with emotion. "He is."
"And he's totally in love with you." Barbara beams. "And he was right. You are the best thing that's ever happened to him."
Tears well in my eyes.
I don't hear the front door close, and I'm not aware of a figure standing in the doorway until I hear Art say, "Is everything okay?"
Barbara smiles, and I regain my composure. "Of course, dear. I've just popped by to make sure your lovely fiancée is all right."
Art rubs a hand through his hair and looks at me with a smile. "She's good. We're good."
We're more than good.
She gets to her feet. "I can see that. I'll be on my way."
"Are you sure? Would you like a cup of tea or something?" I ask, immediately feeling like a terrible host.
"No, dear. It's fine, really." She pulls her handbag onto her shoulder. "I'm en route to Harrods to take a look at wedding outfits."
"Are you sure, Mum? You can stay for a drink."
"I'm fine." She waves a hand dismissively. "I'll leave you both to enjoy your day off." She stops in front of Art in the doorway and pats her hand against his chest. "You take care of her," she says with a nod in my direction.
He grins. "Always, Mum."
Barbara smiles. "Bye, Sophie."
"See you, Barbara. Thanks for coming by."
She disappears off down the hall, and a few seconds later, the door bangs closed.
Art walks over to me. "Are you all right? "
"Yes. Your mum popped round to check if I was okay. It was really nice of her, considering she was the one who had a bit of a shock yesterday."
He slides his warm, sweaty arms around my waist. His hair's damp and messy, and his white T-shirt is sticking to his chest. "She was worried about you when you took off. As was I."
I link my arms around his neck, and he presses his warm body against mine. "She agreed that I'm the best thing to ever happen to you."
"You are." He scoops me up and puts me down on the counter in one easy move. "The very best." He pushes open my legs with his hand and shifts in between my thighs, kissing me.
"I was about to make breakfast."
He dips his hands beneath my white T-shirt and skates his fingertips up my back to my bra clasp. "I know what I want."
I smile. "You had that yesterday."
"I want it again today." He plants a line of kisses down my neck because he knows it's a sure-fire way for him to get his way. "And every day after that."
I close my eyes and tell myself to keep strong. "Maybe you should shower first."
His kisses slow as he considers my suggestion. "Mmhmm … are you coming in with me?"
But I need to keep focussed if I'm going to get my way for once. "How about you take a shower, and I'll make some actual breakfast? Then, we'll go back to bed."
"You know patience isn't my strong point," he says, trailing his lips lower to my collarbone.
My resolve's weakening with every kiss. I know if I don't pull myself together, I'm going to fail. I can't let him carry on doing this a moment longer.
I dig deep and pull away from him. "It will be worth it."
He looks deep into my eyes. "That's an offer I can't refuse."
"Well, why don't you do as you're told for a change and go and get in the shower then? "
I'm expecting him to resist, but he surprises me. He places a lingering kiss on my lips and then reluctantly releases me from his grip.
"Okay. But I've raised the bar in the breakfast stakes," he warns, heading towards the bedroom. "You need to rustle up something pretty special to beat mine."
I smile to myself. Pretty special? What I've got planned will blow his socks off.