Ross had the kind of body language going on that indicated he’d been having fun getting flirty with a girl and had just discovered she was his half-sister.
To put him out of his misery, Hallie said to Bea, ‘It’s all right, I’ll come back in with you.’
‘Sure?’
‘Very sure.’ She met Ross’s uncomfortable, trying-not-to-look-shifty gaze and managed a brief smile to let him know she understood. ‘It’s fine. I’d rather be inside. Bye.’ She did a little wave as Luke swung her chair round, ready to push her back up the garden. ‘It’s been nice talking to you.’
‘Yes. You too.’ Ross nodded; the relief was there in his voice, in the relaxation of his broad shoulders beneath that crisply ironed pink Ralph Lauren shirt.
They were, Hallie noted, physically broad shoulders rather than metaphorical ones.
Ah well, what could you expect? He was an estate agent.
Chapter 36
The party over at the White Hart was still going strong. Hallie could hear the music, the whoops of laughter and other sounds of revelry through her open bedroom window. Everyone was having a great time; yet again Marilyn was celebrating her birthday in style.
And Ross would undoubtedly have found another girl to chat up by now.
She switched on her laptop and concentrated on not feeling as if she were missing out on all the fun. It was an indication of the worsening condition of her lungs that those twenty minutes off oxygen had wiped her out to such an extent. Tomorrow, she knew from experience, she’d be feeling even more exhausted.
Had it been worth all that effort, just to be treated like a normal person for once and receive a bit of attention from someone who, once the truth had come out, couldn’t have gone off her quicker if she’d told him she had suppurating leprosy?
Yes, in all honesty it had. Poor Ross, she’d almost felt sorry for him after that. On a couple of occasions, once they were back in the pub, she’d caught him looking over at her, and he’d given her an embarrassed nod and a smile. What he didn’t understand was that she hadn’t expected anything different, hadn’t even secretly yearned for him to say, ‘Who cares if you have cystic fibrosis? I want to see you again anyway!’
Because she didn’t want to see him again. He had been fun, but he wasn’t her type. He might be physically attractive, but she hadn’t been attracted to him, either physically or mentally.
That dubious honour – sadly for her and unbeknown to everyone else – appeared to be reserved solely for Luke Hilton.
Hallie gave herself a mental shake. OK, don’t even think about it. Luke had Christina now. They were a happily reunited couple. And since there was no point in being jealous of Christina – because it simply wasn’t one of those me-or-her situations – she might as well be as pleased for them, as she’d pretended to be earlier.
It might even make a difficult situation easier and put a stop to the hopeless fantasies that could never be more than fantasies anyway.
She turned her attention to her emails; several new letters had come in and she began skimming through them:
Dear Rose,
I’m thirty-seven years old and would love to settle down and have a family.
I love my three cats more than anything.
Six months ago, I met the most wonderful man.
So here’s the thing: he’s perfect in every way . . . except one.
He really hates all animals, especially cats.
He says we can move in together but only if I get rid of them. Rose, this is so hard for me. It’s like asking me to give up my children. He’s such a lovely man, I know we could be happy together, but the thought of never having another cat in my life is hard to imagine. (He’s not allergic to them, he just doesn’t like them.)
This situation is breaking my heart. If we don’t move in together, he says we’ll have to call it a day. But this could be my last chance to have children. I’m so confused. What do you think I should do?
Yours, Maggie
Sometimes the answers were so easy they wrote themselves. Hallie rapidly typed:
Dear Maggie,
Oh dear, I don’t mean to doubt your judgement, but are you sure this new boyfriend of yours is wonderful, lovely and perfect in every way? Because I can’t say he sounds it. If someone issued those kinds of ultimatums to me, I’m afraid I’d retaliate with one of my own, along the lines of: Please get out of my life and never even try to contact me again.
I certainly wouldn’t want to hang around in the hope of getting my eggs fertilised by such a charmer – imagine what kind of a father he might turn out to be. If he decides he doesn’t much like his children, he might order you to give them away too.