You And Me, Always(56)

Her cheeks were flushed as she fiddled with the fastening on her bag. Declan murmured politely, ‘Oh yes?'

Don't say it, please don't say it.

‘His name's Trent and we met on the painting holiday. It was just the  most amazing coincidence: there were seven of us staying there and it  turned out he lives only fifteen miles away from here, in Cirencester!'  Coral shook her head in disbelief. ‘Isn't that crazy? And we hit it off  from the moment I arrived. I just  …  oh gosh, it sounds silly to say it,  but it felt like fate,' she rattled on. ‘As if it were meant to happen.  The years since Nick died have been so difficult and so lonely, I  honestly never imagined I'd feel this way again. I thought I'd had my  happy life, as much as I deserved, and now it was over. But then the  feelings came back and  …  well, it happened. Like everyone always tells  you, just when you least expect it. I went to the South of France to get  back into painting and there he was. Trent. He lost his wife five years  ago and felt just the same as me. But all it took was a couple of hours  on that first evening and we just knew something special was happening.  It was like  …  magic!'                       
       
           



       

Declan nodded. He was lost for words, but Coral was gazing at him, waiting for him to speak.

‘That's  …  great news.' He forced himself to smile and sound delighted for her. ‘Fantastic. I'm so pleased.'

I'm also lying.

‘Thanks. I can't tell you how brilliant it feels.' She laughed. ‘It's like being a teenager again. I'm all  …  fluttery!'

OK, this wasn't helping matters at all. It simply wasn't what he needed  to hear. And now, in addition, they could both hear the car slowing to a  halt outside. Ten minutes ago it had been a taxi bringing Coral back to  him, the most wonderful sound in the world. Now it was the complete  opposite.

‘Here he is.' Coral jumped up and reached for her suitcase. ‘Come on, you have to meet him!'

Oh joy. But what other choice did he have? Declan followed her out of the cottage.

‘You found us,' Coral exclaimed happily.

‘Oh my God, look at you. Even more beautiful than I remembered.' Trent  was tall, fair-haired and as tanned as she was. He was wearing a green  checked shirt, blue linen shorts and deck shoes. ‘Come here,' he  ordered, holding out his arms to her. ‘I've missed you so much!'

They hugged. Trent kissed her on the mouth. Declan averted his gaze  until Coral pulled away and explained laughingly, ‘He's joking. His  flight was only two hours earlier than mine.'

‘I still missed you, though.' Trent gave her waist a squeeze, then  turned to Declan. ‘Hi there, Dec, I've been hearing all about you. And  your lady friend, of course. Grace, is it?'

‘Gail,' said Coral. ‘She's lovely!'

Trent was enthusiastically shaking his hand. Now wasn't the time to make  the announcement. Declan said, ‘She isn't here, I'm afraid.'

‘Well I can't wait to meet her too. I'm looking forward to getting to  know all Coral's friends. Has she been telling you about our time in  Grimaud?'

‘Um, kind of.'

‘Ha! Not all about it, obviously. No, but it was great. Best week of my  life. Mind-blowing.' He winked cheerily. ‘Lucky me, eh? OK, let's get  this case into the back of the car  … '

The suitcase was stowed in the boot of his very clean bottle-green  Vauxhall Vectra. Trent then held open the passenger door and ushered  Coral inside. Coral, fastening her seat belt, said to Declan, ‘We're all  having dinner at the Star tonight. You'll join us, won't you? I'll book  a table for seven thirty.'

‘Great.' Could he bear to? Maybe, maybe not.

‘We'll see you later,' she said.

Revving the engine, Trent raised his hand in farewell. ‘Bye for now!'

They drove off in a cloud of dust, and Declan realised there was no way  he could share dinner with them; it would be just too hard to handle  after the hopes and plans he'd had for her return.

It looked like Gail had been wrong about Coral's feelings for him after  all. Or maybe it had been a fleeting mini-crush that had now been well  and truly eclipsed by the all-consuming, all-singing-and-dancing love  affair that had swept her off her feet.

Declan sighed. Either way, he'd messed up and missed out.



As they drove away from Weaver's Cottage, Coral silently congratulated  herself on having handled the situation without doing anything  embarrassing. It was fine, she'd managed it, she hadn't made a fool of  herself and there'd definitely been none of those giveaway looks of  longing that Gail had previously observed. She'd learned from her  earlier mistakes and retained her dignity. Thank God.

Mind you, it was a lot easier when you had a distraction in the form of Trent.

‘You OK?' As they stopped at the traffic lights, he briefly rested his left hand on her knee. ‘What are you thinking about?'

Coral admired his profile. ‘I'm thinking we had a perfect holiday.'

‘We definitely did. And now we're back home. On to the next phase. I just hope Lily likes me.'

‘Of course she will.' Coral's tone was reassuring.

Seriously, though, what a difference a week could make. It wasn't  something she'd expected to happen, but it had. Trent had been a  revelation. He had, by his own admission, fallen for her the moment  they'd met. And yes, it had caught her by surprise, but as he said, that  was just the way he was. What you saw, with him, was what you got. If  you knew what you wanted, why bother shilly-shallying about? Just seize  the moment and go for it.

Coral had been won over by his enthusiasm, his openness, his honesty. As  a widower, too, he knew what she'd been through. He was empathetic.  Most of all, though, he liked her and wasn't afraid to show it, and he  was available. Which meant she was allowed to like him back. After the  agony of having to hide her feelings for Declan, who was so lovely but  so completely unavailable, it had come as a relief. Here was someone she  could allow herself to fall in love with.                       
       
           



       

OK, it was too soon to call it love, but so far it had been a wonderful  experience. She'd found herself relaxing and feeling normal again  …  and  just loving the sensation of feeling normal. The last week had been a  joyous whirl of sunshine and laughter, conversation and wine, and the  gloriously pleasurable zing of growing attraction for this new man whom  fate had brought into her life.

Ironically, too, she owed it all to Declan and Gail. If she hadn't been  panicked by Gail's terrifyingly astute observations, she would never  have landed up in Grimaud and met Trent.

Funny how fate worked, sometimes. You never could tell, could you? Trent  wasn't Declan  –  if she were being honest, he wasn't even close  –  but he  was single and he was offering her a future. Coral's heart skittered at  the thought of it; she'd taken an unexpected new direction and maybe it  was the right one.

This could be the start of a whole new life.



Patsy arrived back in Stanton Langley at ten o'clock on Saturday  evening. The cottage was unexpectedly tidy. Empty, too. She sent a quick  text, and two minutes later received the reply.

Right. Not ideal, obviously, but it had to be done.

Sick with fear, she walked down to the high street and crossed the road  to the Star. The sky was pitch black, with only a sliver of moon visible  above the trees behind it. The white fairy lights strung up outside the  pub glittered in the darkness and made it look so much more welcoming  than it could well turn out to be.

She knew they were in there. From here, she could hear the sound of  music, voices and laughter. When she walked in, would the place suddenly  fall deathly silent, like in High Noon?

Her mouth was dry and she could no longer feel her knees. The last time  she'd faced Lily, the encounter had ended just about as badly as it was  possible to end.

Patsy braced herself. It was time to find out if this one was due to be worse.



‘Well?' Coral said eagerly while Trent was up at the bar ordering a fresh round of drinks. ‘Do you like him?'

Which was one of those questions to which it would be impossible to reply no.

Luckily Lily didn't need to. She nodded and said, ‘He's really nice,'  because it was so clearly what Coral wanted to hear. And Trent did seem  nice; there was nothing to actively dislike about him. It was all just a  bit sudden and unexpected, that was all. Like Coral, he was in his late  forties and had been widowed. He worked as the manager of an electrical  store in Cirencester, loved to listen to jazz music and was a keen  amateur watercolourist in his free time. He had an open face, good table  manners and was cheerful and friendly. He was also quite clearly  besotted with Coral.