Chapter 22

He led her by their enfolded hands off the track, down and across a field to a copse. There in a clearing, he dumped his rucksack and hamper, and laid out a rug and two cushions.

‘Wherever I am, I like to have my creature comforts,’ he said.

Shafts of sun drove through leaves and branches to warm her. She sat on the rug, cross-legged, watching him. Even the simplest of his movements was beguiling. The clasping of their hands confirmed at last that perhaps they were more than friends; not that she had doubted it but, over the days and weeks spent together when he would never give her a physical hint, not even a peck on the cheek, she had occasionally wondered. She could, of course, never allow him to go beyond the most chaste of touches. Though, if his lips were to approach hers…

He unpacked the picnic, and offered her a smoked salmon sandwich, crisps and tomatoes, and lemonade which he removed from a cold bag. When she’d finished these, he pulled out a small box with two slices of cheesecake which he placed on paper plates.

‘I wasn’t expecting all this,’ she exclaimed. The walk had made her thirsty and she stretched out her plastic glass. ‘This lemonade’s delicious. What did you put in it?’

He smiled. ‘I am glad you are enjoying it.’

He watched her drink and eat hungrily; she felt his eyes on her. ‘You’re not eating much,’ she said.

‘I prefer to watch you,’ he said. He edged closer and put an arm round her, kissing her on a cheek as she chewed – his lips had touched her skin almost without her knowing. She light-heartedly affected to ease him away but liked the closeness. He accepted the hint, took a sandwich for himself and fastidiously nibbled it.

‘This is a place I could stay for ever,’ he said.

She turned to him, beaming with pleasure. ‘So could I.’ The sensations coursing through her body and thoughts churning in her head were unlike any she’d felt or known before. Until now, ‘love’ had been a dutiful, unquestioned affection for her father and a few of her favourite relatives. There’d been the odd boy she’d had a crush on but this was wholly different; she was sure she’d discovered what the word ‘love’ could really mean. Did he feel the same?

After the picnic, they lay down on the rug and pillows and she felt sleepy, almost in a trance, serenaded by the soft rustling of leaves and cries of birdsong.

She thought she heard a stirring in the undergrowth. ‘What was that?’ She opened her eyes to find him leaning over her.

‘Just a fox coming to get you.’ He grinned and stroked her cheek, slowly moving his hand down to intrude beneath her T-shirt.