‘Just that moment?’ There was only tenderness in his voice now.
‘Well, a bit longer than that. A week or so. When I got to rehab he only visited once a week, and by the time I got home he’d gone.’ Chloe gulped in a breath, trying not to feel the awful loneliness she’d felt, stuck at home, unable to do anything but wait and hope. ‘I heard that he’d been crying on my best friend’s shoulder and telling her he couldn’t cope.’
‘He couldn’t cope?’
‘Well, apparently she couldn’t either. Neither of them came to tell me, but when I asked around I was told they were going out together. They had me in common, you see. Both of them were pretty upset about what had happened...’ Chloe couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. And that wasn’t fair.
‘I don’t blame them. It was a lot to ask, it was obvious that I was going to need a lot of help over a long time. But they might have had the decency to come and tell me, you know?’
‘That’s the least they could have done.?
? He caught her hand, clasping it to his chest.
‘You feel that?’
‘Yes, I do.’ His heart was beating under her fingertips, strong and steady. The kind of heart you’d want on your side whenever times were tough.
‘I promise that I might be there for you, as a friend. I might not, depending on the circumstances.’
She couldn’t help laughing. It was honest, at least. ‘That’s good. Thank you.’
‘And I promise that if I tell you I’m going to do something, I’ll do it. No excuses, no half-measures.’
‘That’s very good.’
‘And I’m telling you that I’ll come to France with you and stick around for a while. Not for ever. I have to go back to work in three weeks, and if the builders manage to knock my house down I might have to pop back and survey the wreckage. But I’ll be there for as long as I can, and I’ll do whatever I can to help.’
‘That’s perfect. I’d like that very much.’
‘So that’s settled, then.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Now, are we going to switch the light on and see whether any of the handles have fallen off the kitchen cabinets while we’ve not been looking?’
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WAS A strange feeling, inhabiting the space between what was possible and what he wanted. But they’d drawn the lines carefully, and they both understood the boundaries. Those boundaries allowed them the freedom that the kiss had threatened to take away. That casual give and take, which meant they could just enjoy each other’s company, without having to examine every touch, every word for a meaning that shouldn’t be there.
And luck seemed to be on their side. Tickets and hotel reservations were obtained without too much trouble, and Hannah kept her promise to call the following evening. On Thursday they were up early and ready to go, in the bright crispness of a late summer’s morning.
‘You’re sure about this?’ Jon gave her one last chance to go inside and change her clothes.
‘Positive. A hundred miles south of here, it’s going to be much warmer.’ She had a fleece jacket on over a summer dress. He could almost smell the yellow and blue flowers sprinkled across the light fabric.
‘All right. Whatever you say.’ The morning was imbued with a kind of excitement that was more akin to a new adventure, not the urgency of an emergency where every second counted. For the next two days he had Chloe all to himself, and as long as they covered the miles, they could do whatever else they liked.
With one, significant exception. Now that he had nothing else to do but keep his eye on the road, Jon had to remind himself that the boundaries they’d set were all for the best, and that whatever they liked didn’t include stopping the car and claiming Chloe’s lips again.
He hadn’t been able to keep up with her rapid French when she’d booked their accommodation, but Jon assumed she’d booked a couple of motorway hotels, and doubted they’d provide the ambience for anything other than a meal and some sleep. Which was just as well because, however much he wanted to kiss her—however tantalising the thought of exploring a little further than just a kiss—that was one avenue that should remain closed to them.
* * *
By the time they emerged from the Channel Tunnel the sky was looking a lot more promising, a dark clear blue that seemed to beckon them towards the horizon. Sixty miles of motorway driving and then Chloe suddenly indicated a left turn.
The next twenty miles got them no closer to their destination as she turned the map one way and then another, trying to puzzle out where they were going. Somehow they managed to get back on track and Chloe directed him through a set of large, wrought-iron gates and along a long avenue, edged with trees and dappled by sunlight.
‘Wow. Look at that.’ The avenue had opened up into a wide, sweeping curve, which grazed the entrance of a magnificent chateau. White painted and gleaming in the afternoon sun, it looked like a fairy-tale castle, complete with turrets at each side.
‘This is it.’ Chloe pointed to a cluster of cars to one side of the entrance. ‘I think we can stop there.’
‘We’re staying here?’ Jon had imagined that they might be just passing, to find some more modest accommodation somewhere in the grounds.