Three Amazing Things About You(54)

She’d searched his face, the face that had only just recovered from being battered by part of the Avon Gorge. ‘Won’t you be horribly bored?’

‘No. I’ll be with you.’ He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her from side to side. ‘And you’ll be happy. That’s good enough for me.’

‘Sure?’

‘Will you stop worrying? We’re going to have a fantastic time. Will we have great sex?’

‘Definitely. Great sex, great food, lots of fun.’

‘Well then, there you go. Sounds pretty perfect to me.’

Tasha had still secretly worried that he might be bored, but her fears had been groundless. They’d had a brilliant weekend, filled with laughter, love and increasing closeness. The connection between them was like nothing she’d ever known before, strengthening and deepening almost by the hour. The meals they’d eaten in the hotel restaurant had been flawless. Better still, the blustery rainstorms and near-freezing temperatures of the last couple of weeks had given way just in time to the onset of spring. The sun had shone in a cloudless duck-egg sky, the air was warm, and gently swaying carpets of crocuses, snowdrops and daffodils had swathed the valley with colour.

Yesterday they had walked all afternoon, discovering picturesque villages and friendly dog-walkers along the way. Today they were exploring the woodland pathways to the south of the hotel. Tasha had never been a great fan of walking before, unless it was around the shops, but it had been her decision that they should give it a go, and to her amazement she was really enjoying it. It wasn’t boring at all; there were a million things to see and listen to. The birds sang and swooped across the sky, a haze of just-emerged green softened the finer outer branches of the trees, there was an infinite variety of bark and leaves, and they saw a pair of foxes gazing at them from the edge of a field.

There were also smaller creatures: beetles scuttling between mounds of last year’s dead leaves, a mouse racing across the path in front of them at one stage, and a whole party of spiders on a huge mottled tree trunk.

‘Ach!’ Realising that one of the bigger spiders had landed on his desert boot, Rory leapt back and attempted to shake it off. ‘Oh God.’ He grimaced; the spider was staying put.

‘Keep still.’ Trying not to laugh at the look of horror on his face, Tasha knelt in the pile of leaves at the base of the tree and carefully coaxed the spider into the palm of her hand. ‘OK, got him.’

‘Eeeeeurrgh.’ Rory shuddered as she gently deposited it back on the rough tree trunk with the rest of its social circle. ‘How can you do that?’

‘I like spiders. Look at their gorgeous legs. They’re beautiful.’

‘You’re beautiful.’ He drew her to him for a kiss. ‘Also, weird. How can spiders not bother you when you’re scared of everything else?’

‘You mean rock climbing and bungee jumping and extreme water sports?’ Tasha shook her head; did he really not understand? ‘I’m not scared of those things. I just don’t want to do them.’

‘Because you’re scared.’

‘No, because I have zero interest in them. The small risk of injury doesn’t outweigh the amount of work involved. I don’t like being in cold water or wearing uncomfortable outfits. But I promise you I’m not scared.’

Rory brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes and kissed her on the end of her nose. ‘I love you.’

Just hearing him say the words made her whole body fizz with happiness. ‘I love you too. Even if you are scared of spiders.’

His eyes glinted with amusement. ‘Oh, I’m not scared of spiders. I just have no interest in them, that’s all.’

They carried on walking, slightly lost but not disastrously so, just following narrow paths and lanes as the mood took them and enjoying the rest of their final sunny afternoon in the countryside.

Tasha heard it first. A frail-sounding female voice was calling, ‘Blackie . . . Blackie . . .’

‘What?’ said Rory when she stopped walking.

‘Listen.’ She raised a finger and pointed down the hill. ‘It’s coming from that direction.’

They waited, then the voice came again. It sounded like an elderly woman searching for a lost pet. ‘Blackie? Blackie! Oh, where are you?’

‘Poor thing,’ said Rory.

‘This is why I love you,’ Tasha told him as they instinctively altered course and followed the sound of the voice. ‘You’re a kind person. You try to help people.’

‘She sounds upset. Wouldn’t anyone do the same?’

‘What if Blackie’s a massive spider?’