Page 3 of All the Things We Never Knew

‘All the rooms here are like this.’ He grinned, as proud and delighted as a little boy bringing home a straight-A report card. He looked tired himself, I noticed. There were hollows under his eyes I remembered seeing the last time we’d met, two weeks before. ‘Do you like it?’

‘It’s gorgeous.’ I kicked off my shoes, dropped my coat on an armchair and threw myself on the bed, bouncing a few times on my back. ‘Can we move in?’

Seconds later, he’d joined me on the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress on either side of my waist.

‘I could totally get behind that idea.’ His voice was muffled by the duvet and my hair. ‘Or better still, get behind you.’

I giggled, pushing him away. ‘Not until I’ve showered. I stink of sweat and hospital.’

‘No you don’t.’ He pushed the neck of my jumper down, kissing my collarbone. ‘You smell delicious. You smell of Laurel.’

I felt my heartbeat quicken and a thread of desire work its way down from where his lips were to between my legs. But I wriggled out from underneath him, just in time to answer another discreet tap on the door.

‘My stuff,’ I reported. ‘Just as well we didn’t start anything.’

‘We should’ve put the Do Not Disturb sign up.’ He grinned unrepentantly, propped on his elbows on the bed. ‘Except it’s probably a setting on the app.’

‘I hope the shower works like a normal one.’ I unzipped my case and pulled out my washbag. ‘Not some fancy remote-controlled thing.’

‘Looked pretty analogue to me.’ He followed me into the bathroom, waiting expectantly while I looked around, taking in the huge claw-footed tub under the window, the Oriental rug spread over the wooden floor, the glass-screened rainfall shower.

‘Wow,’ I breathed. ‘Fancy.’

‘And plenty of room for two,’ he said. ‘Bath or shower? You pick.’

‘Shower, then. Give me a minute to wee then you can join me.’

Half an hour later, we lay on the bed, gasping and smiling. My head was on his shoulder, and I was running my fingers down the taut plane of his stomach, almost automatically tracing the scar that curved from the top of his left hip bone down towards his groin like a smile.

Was it my imagination or was that bone more pronounced than it had been the last time I touched it?

I felt his skin move beneath my hand as he took a deep breath in. ‘Laurel?’

‘Mmm-hmm?’

‘I’ve got something for you. A present.’

I propped myself up on my elbow, looking down at him. ‘You didn’t have to do that. You got us – all this.’

‘I wanted to, though. So I did.’

He stood up and went to rummage through his leather holdall. I felt embarrassed – I hadn’t got him anything, not even a card. I couldn’t have got him one if I’d wanted to – it would have caused too many complications. But the glow of pleasure on his face when he handed me the small square box made me feel better – he wanted to give me a gift more than he would have wanted anything I could have given him.

I eased open the box and squeaked with delight. The earrings were stunning – simple, sparkly crystals, twinkling with rainbow brightness in the glow of the bedside lamp.

‘They’re gorgeous.’ I smiled and kissed him. ‘Thank you.’

‘You can wear them to dinner. I booked us a table at eight – assuming you’re hungry?’

‘Starving.’ I thought of the dining room downstairs. There’d be starched white tablecloths, battalions of knives and forks and probably a sommelier. There’d be abundant opportunities for me to make a fool of myself. There would also, I was sure, be an extensive room-service menu.

But he’d brought me here because it was special – because he thought I was special. He wanted to go down for dinner with me in the black dress I’d borrowed off Mel and feel proud of me. He didn’t feel the need to hide away, and nor should I.

‘Let’s get dressed and get some food,’ I said.

So we did. He showed me how to eat oysters in such a way that I was sure the waiter hadn’t noticed that I didn’t already know. He told me what coquilles Saint Jacques were. He passed a forkful of his duck across the table for me to try without embarrassment. He ordered a bottle of delicious red wine even though we knew he’d hardly drink any of it. He didn’t eat very much himself, but insisted that I have pudding.

Afterwards, we went back up to our room and had sex again, slowly and gently because we were both so full and sleepy. I cleaned my teeth and took off my make-up in the posh bathroom and then returned to bed, curling up next to him.