A Cure for Love

The trouble was that these last few days, with their too evocative intimacy with him, their pseudo-closeness, had confused her brain to the point where even it was sometimes in danger of believing in the fiction they had created. When Lewis stood next to her, when he touched her, when he looked at her, her need to respond to him was so intense that she could barely control it.

Now he had gone, and just as soon as Jessica had had her tests done and the results were known, just as soon as they were sure that she was over the trauma of them, they would be able to start convincing her that they were not, after all, planning to get back together.

But in the meantime…

In the meantime she had work to do, she reminded herself as she gave Jessica a last warm kiss and then waved her off.

SHE HAD already warned Tony Aimes that she would be late getting into the office.

When she did arrive he greeted her warmly, giving her an affectionate hug.

Why was it, she wondered dispassionately as she disengaged herself, that the embrace of one man should leave her emotions and her flesh so cold, while the merest touch of another…?

From the comments Tony made to her as she worked, she guessed that he had heard something about Lewis, although he didn’t ask her outright who he was, or what role he had in her life.

Lacey responded vaguely to his discreet probing, telling herself uncomfortably that, since Lewis did not and could not have any real or permanent role in her life, it was pointless discussing with anyone the close relationship they had once shared.

She worked late, dealing with a query from abroad which had cropped up at the last minute, and then drove home, feeling edgy and tense.

At the back of her mind, unwanted and dangerous, lay the knowledge that she was half hoping that, even though with Jessica back at university there was no real reason for him to do so

, Lewis would get in touch with her. Half hoping…and half dreading.

When the evening passed without the telephone ringing once, she told herself that she was glad, that it was a relief to her that Lewis had not tried to get in touch, and yet when she went to bed she was thinking about him, wondering what he was doing and who he was with.

Although it had been obvious from his conversation that his business had done extremely well and that he had a close-knit group of friends, there had never been any reference by him to anyone special…a woman…the woman.

But then, he was hardly likely to do so, was he?

A week slipped by, her days almost too busy as she caught up with the work which had piled up during her absence, but despite her tiredness she wasn’t sleeping very well, her thoughts constantly returning to Lewis.

It was the strain of the fiction she had been forced to live under while Jessica was at home, she told herself unsteadily as she fought to banish the mental images of Lewis which continued to crowd her mind, threatening to take over her whole life.

On Friday evening, just as she was walking into the house, the phone started to ring. She raced to pick up the receiver, her heart pounding, her stomach clenching on an agony of apprehension and tension, but it was only Ian, ringing to confirm the arrangements for Jessica’s tests.

‘By the way,’ he added rather stiltedly, ‘I understand that congratulations are in order.’When Lacey said nothing, he continued uncomfortably, ‘Jessica has told me your good news. I must say that it came as something of a shock. I had no idea that Lewis and you…Of course I’m delighted for both of you, and Jessica obviously is over the moon. I understand you haven’t set an actual date yet, but—’

‘Jessica told you that Lewis and I are getting married?’ Lacey interrupted him huskily.

‘Yes. Yes, that’s right. I do understand that it isn’t common knowledge yet. I must say that Lewis is a very lucky man, Lacey. I’m very happy for you, my dear. For both of you…but most especially for you, even though…’

He continued to talk for several more minutes while Lacey closed her eyes, thankful that there was no one with her to witness the shock his disclosures had given her.

How could Jessica have done this to her? How could she have intimated to Ian that she and Lewis…?

Numbly she replaced the receiver, her first impulse to ring Jessica and demand to know what on earth she had thought she was doing dying as she realised how futile such an action would be.

What on earth was she going to do now? Ian wasn’t a gossip, and he was a close friend, but even so…Her stomach muscles clenched in an agony of mortification as she thought of the gossip which would ensue once people knew that she and Lewis were not going to remarry.

It was all very well at Jessica’s age to shake off as unimportant the views and comments of others. And as for Lewis…well, this wasn’t his home. He wouldn’t have to live with the consequences of any gossip, while she…

There was only one thing for it: she would have to go and see Lewis to tell him what had happened and see if there was some way of repairing the damage Jessica had unwittingly done. After all, surely he would want people assuming that the two of them were going to get married as little as she did herself?

She was still wearing her office clothes. It was a warm fine evening and before setting out she went upstairs, showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a soft T-shirt.

Without her high heels she looked almost too small to be adult, and wasn’t it perhaps time she opted for a more sophisticated and mature hairstyle than her shoulder-length bob, something that would give her more authority and maturity?

Grimacing at herself in the mirror, she went back downstairs, collected her keys and her shoulder-bag, and let herself out of the house.