Tap tap tap.

Nick was now knocking on the door. All of a fluster, Sally fast-forwarded through the rest of the dream, where he’d started kissing her and running his hands over her body and a stroppy uniformed security guard had stomped up and announced that they couldn’t do that sort of thing here and Nick had said, ‘But, it’s art ...’

‘Sally? Have you fallen over in there?’

‘Sorry.’ She opened the door, let him in. ‘I was just having a quick tidy-up.’

Which was so ragingly obviously untrue, it was a wonder a thunderbolt didn’t strike her dead on the spot. But Nick, ever the gentleman, simply greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and said cheerfully, ‘How are you?’

‘Fed up. I feel like Robinson Crusoe. Gabe buggered off Yesterday, God only knows where because he won’t tell me, and Lola’s gone out for the day with EJ. Gabe was supposed to pick up some tea bags yesterday but he didn’t, so I went all the way to the corner shop on my crutches ...

and when I got there they were shut! So then I had to hobble what felt like fifty miles down the road to the next shop and when I finally got there, they didn’t even sell PG Tips, only horrible cheap tea bags that taste of dust. I tell you, I’m so fed up with this stupid leg of mine I just want to chop it off.

‘Oh dear.’ Nick was doing his best to keep a straight face.

‘And I’ve got blisters on my hands from using the stupid crutches.’ He was wearing his navy cashmere crew-neck sweater over a white shirt and cream chinos. With a jolt Sally realised that he’d been wearing the same sweater last night in her dream ... well, until she’d pulled it off over his head.

‘So, not the best of days.’

‘You could say that.’ She broke into a smile to show she wasn’t a complete grump. ‘Not the best of weeks. See that?’

‘See what?’ Nick followed the direction of her gesturing hand.

‘That empty mantelpiece.’

He frowned. ‘It’s not empty. There’s loads of things on it. Fairy lights, photos, candles ...’

‘But no Valentine’s cards,’ said Sally. ‘That’s where I’d put my Valentine’s cards if I’d been sent any. But I haven’t been, so I couldn’t put them there. Because nobody sent me any. Not even one.’

‘I didn’t get any either.’

‘Didn’t you?’ Hooray for that. Mischievously she said, ‘Not even from Lola’s mum?’

Nick laughed. ‘Especially not from Blythe. It’s OK, I think Lola’s come round at last to the idea that she’s not going to get us back together. Sweet of her to try, but let’s face it, we’re poles apart. That Disney happy ending was never going to happen?

Better and better. Sally began joyfully concocting an alternative happy ending starring ... ta daa! ... herself.

‘Anyway, this is the reason I dropped by.’ Nick took a couple of rolled-up leaflets from his pocket. ‘Lola’s got it into her head that we should be taking up badminton, so I’ve been to look at a couple of sports centres. I can leave these with you or slide them under her door.’

All this way just to drop off a couple of leaflets? Was that true, or was he using it as an excuse to see her when he knew Lola wouldn’t be here?

‘Leave them with me. I’ll give them to her when she gets home. Where are you off to this afternoon? Somewhere nice, I expect. Having fun, meeting friends ...’

‘The truth? There’s an account I should be doing some work on, but to be honest I’m not in the mood.’ Pausing to study her for a moment, Nick said, ‘How about if I invited you out to lunch, would that cheer you up?’

‘Really? Are you sure?’ Sally was barely able to conceal her delight.

‘Why not? Decent food, a few drinks and good company.’ Nick’s grey eyes crinkled with amusement. ‘What could be nicer than that?’

This was everything she’d hoped for and more. Every nerve ending zinging with possibilities, Sally said, ‘I can be ready in ten minutes.’ God, talk about fate bringing together two people who were perfect for each other. What a fantastic day this was turning out to be.

Nick grew better and better looking as lunch progressed. By the time coffee arrived he was irresistible. The food had probably been good too but what with all the excitement and batting back and forth of scintillating one-liners interspersed with more deep and meaningful conversation, Sally hadn’t actually got around to eating much of it. Her stomach had shrunk to the size of a thimble and adrenaline production was in overdrive. It no longer mattered that Nick was Lola’s father because – thank God – he and Blythe had no intention whatsoever of getting back together. The hurdle had been removed as deftly as Paul Daniels might whisk away a card during a magic trick. And along with the hurdle, Sally felt her inhibitions disappearing too, possibly helped along by the bottle of wine she appeared to have played a large part in demolishing. Every time Nick topped up her glass and she half-heartedly protested, he reminded her that he was driving and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Which it most certainly would have been. And now she was bathed in a delicious, warm top-to-toe glow. Semi-accidentallybrushing her hand against his, Sally said, ‘So did you not want any more children or did it just never happen?’

Nick looked momentarily startled at this about-turn. OK, they had been in the middle of a conversation about killing time at airports when your flight’s been delayed, but she was interested. It was always a nice thing to know

‘Well, my ex-wife was never keen. She was a career woman, not really interested in kids. I couldn’t really force her to have them against her will.’ There, that was it, the last box ticked.

Sally’s heart melted at the thought of this wonderful man wanting children and being cruelly denied them by his coldhearted career-driven harridan of an ex.

OK, he was now officially perfect. All her life she’d been getting herself involved with men who ran a mile if you so much as mentioned babies. And everyone knew that older men made better fathers. Look at Michael Douglas, he doted on his gorgeous children and dazzling young wife.

’Whoops, hang on, let me just ...’

Sally gave up the struggle to haul herself out of the passenger seat and allowed Nick to do the honours, providing a shoulder to lean on as she and her crutches navigated their way onto the pavement. By some miracle she didn’t trip over them. Gathering herself, she handed the front door key to Nick and said, ‘Coming in?’

It was a rhetorical question. Of course he was. Nick said cheerfully, ‘I think someone has to make sure you don’t fall down the stairs, don’t you?’

Sally took deep breaths; this was it, she knew it. Gabe was out, they had the place to themselves and the situation couldn’t be more perfect. Well, OK, it would have been a teenier bit more perfect if she didn’t have her gammy leg to contend with, but it certainly wasn’t going to stop them.

Finally they reached the flat. Somewhat unromantically, Sally discovered, all the wine she’d drunk had found its way to her bladder and she was forced to excuse herself in order to visit the bathroom. Returning, she found Nick gazing out of the living-room window. Lit from behind, he had a profile like a Greek god.

He turned, indicating the kitchen. ‘I put the kettle on. Thought you might like a coffee.’

OK, it was time. He wanted her to be the one to make the first move. And he was smiling, waiting for her to make it. Approaching him – clunk – and taking care – clunk – not to bash into the coffee table, Sally smiled back then deliberately took her arms out of the crutches and propped them against the wall. Facing Nick, she said, ‘I don’t want a coffee.’

‘No? Well, that’s all right.You don’t have to have one.’Amused, Nick said, ‘It’s not compulsory’

‘Can you believe this is happening?’ Without the support of the crutches Sally felt herself beginning to sway.

‘Steady.’ He reached for her. ‘You’re not a stork.’

Who wanted to be a stork? ‘It’s the last thing I expected: Sally gazed at him. ‘Is it the last thing you expected?’

He looked bemused, frowned slightly. ‘Well, yes, but ice skaters do injure themselves, so I suppose there’s always a chance ...’

‘Doesn’t matter.’They appeared to be talking at cross purposes but Sally was beyond caring. ‘It won’t make any difference, I promise.’ Curling her arms around his neck, unable to hold back a moment longer, she lunged forward and kissed him passionately, full on the mouth.

Chapter 42

Making his way along Radley Road, Gabe slowed and looked up at the window of the flat.

Puzzled by the sight of what appeared to be two people locked in a passionate embrace, he reached instinctively for the camera around his neck and peered through the long lens, adjusting it until it slid into focus.

What the ... ?

Gabe’s heart began to thud in his chest. Jesus. Sally and Lola’s father. Sally, wrapped around him like a scarf. Lola’s father .. . for crying out loud, how long had this been going on? How long had they been carrying on behind his back? And not only his back, Lola’s too, because she absolutely definitely didn’t know about this.

Unable to watch any more, Gabe put down the camera and turned away. His hands were trembling and he felt as if he’d been punched hard in the stomach. Talk about sly, underhand, deceitful ... How dare they? He swallowed and turned back; yes, they were still there, no longer kissing but only inches apart, holding each other and gazing into each other’s eyes, murmuring sweet nothings ... So this was the kind of man Nick James was, nothing but a sleazy Lothario.