Page 38 of The Diary at the Last House Before the Sea

‘Me? No. I’ve had boyfriends, of course.’

‘But no one serious?’

‘Not really. I seem to have kissed a lot of frogs in my time. Well…not lots of frogs.’ She stopped. Did that make it sound as if she was going out with every Tom, Dick or Harry who asked her? ‘What I mean is?—’

‘I know what you mean,’ said Bartie softly, leaning towards her.

‘What about you?’ Clara asked, her voice sounding higher than usual.

‘Footloose and fancy-free.’

‘So no one special then?’

A shadow crossed his face. ‘There was a woman a while back who broke my heart.’

‘What was her name?’ When Bartie hesitated, Clara kicked herself for asking. ‘Sorry. It’s none of my business.’

‘No, you’re fine,’ said Bartie, stroking her arm. ‘She was called Kitty and we broke up last summer. It was tough at the time but I’m over her now. Just about, and finally deciding to risk my heart again.’

Clara swallowed because Bartie really was very close, and he was staring into her eyes.

‘Anyway,’ he murmured, ‘enough about me. What else have you been up to since we were teenagers way back when?’

‘Not a lot,’ she managed, not breaking eye contact. ‘This and that. You know. Stuff. Grown-up stuff.’

She stopped talking, feeling stupid. Sixteen years ago, she’d dreamed of Bartie taking an interest in her life, not realising that it would turn her into an incoherent idiot.

‘Grown-up stuff.’ Bartie raised an eyebrow, and leaned forward until his mouth was almost brushing hers. ‘That sounds exciting. What kind of grown-up stuff?’ he whispered.

‘Responsibilities, really,’ said Clara, feeling distinctly jittery. ‘My dad had severe disabilities following a stroke, and he and Mum needed my support until he died last year.’

‘Oh, right.’ Bartie sat up straight again. ‘That sounds very…erm, grown up and challenging.’

‘Yeah, it was,’ said Clara, berating herself for ruining what had appeared to be ‘a moment’ between them. Bringing up death was always going to do that. ‘Tell me more about you,’ she said, trying to rescue the situation.

‘Well, what is there to tell?’ said Bartie languidly, a smile playing on his lips.

‘Have you been to Brellasham Manor much over the last few years? I haven’t seen you.’

The smile faded. ‘Not as much as I’d have liked. Life gets in the way, doesn’t it. Especially when you’re working to build your career, as I’ve been doing. I’m doing rather well now – lots of irons in the business fire, a flat in London and a great social life. But, without someone special to share it with, it all feels a little hollow sometimes. Do you know what I mean? I’m still looking for that one person who gets me for who I truly am. That’s why I feel drawn to you, Clara. Not only have you turned into an extremely attractive woman – a swan, if you like – you know me. After we’ve been friends for so long, you really know me.’

Clara wasn’t sure that she really did, but she nodded anyway, glowing at being called a swan. Though that did imply she’d once been an ugly duckling.

‘Clara Netherway, are you listening to me?’ asked Bartie. He gently brushed his finger beneath her chin. ‘I don’t know what it is but there’s something about you, some magnetism, that’s attracting me. Don’t you feel it too?’

He was so close now, Clara could feel his warm breath on her cheek. Her fifteen-year-old self would have been thrilled, and her thirty-one-year-old self felt pretty excited about it too.

Bartie leaned ever closer. He was going to kiss her. That was obvious. And Clara wanted him to kiss her. Who wouldn’t want dashing Bartie to pull them into an embrace? So why was her first thought, as his lips landed, I hope Mum isn’t walking past right now?

Her mother probably wouldn’t approve of Clara fraternising with what she deemed the ‘upper classes’.

Concentrate! Clara told herself, closing her eyes as Bartie’s arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her hard against him. This is what your teenage self could only dream about.

Bartie’s hand was pushing through her hair now, and the kiss was lovely, if she actually let herself focus on it. A bit forceful, perhaps. He was pressing her backwards, lowering her down onto the rug, and she felt his heavy body cover her as the kiss went on.

This was all very unexpected and exciting, but not entirely appropriate for a public place at lunchtime in Heaven’s Cove.

When Bartie’s hand slipped beneath her T-shirt and she felt his fingers on the bare skin at her waist, she opened her eyes and shifted her head slightly.

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