Page 37 of The Trouble With Love

Kai put his foot down. ‘What does that make me, then? I haven’t even got a guinea pig.’

Muddy snow sloshed up the side of the Jeep. ‘Oh you must be a Real Man, you wear a leather jacket.’

‘That noise was my ego going down the drain.’

‘And shag women’s best friends.’

‘Ah. I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.’

‘Where in Leeds are we going, anyway? They’ve got some brilliant shops, there’s a Harvey Nicks and everything.’

Kai’s expression went a bit twisted. ‘I’m going to find this PI. Find out why he’s looking for me, find out who sent him.’

I watched him drive for a bit. The Jeep pulled like a fresh horse so he had to keep both hands on the wheel, but he didn’t need to hold it as tightly as he did. ‘And what if it is your mother?’ I kept my voice gentle. ‘Do you want to meet her?’

‘I thought about finding her the day Cerys was born. She was a grandmother and she didn’t even know it, and I thought then she didn’t deserve to know. But then when Cerys got pregnant and I thought, what if she’d decided to go away and have the babies and not say anything? How would I feel, my own daughter having a life like that and me not knowing?’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Curiosity is a bitch.’

‘I’ll come with you, if you want.’

There was a moment’s silence, then a hand came off the wheel and grasped mine in a quick clasp. ‘Thanks.’

Fighting the urge to wind my fingers through his, I kept my eyes front. ‘So. Will there be time to go to Harvey Nicks do you think?’

‘You just spoiled a moment there, d’you know that?’

‘I’m not sure I need any more moments. My life seems to consist of moments. And, hey, have you noticed how there’s hardly any snow now? Aiden said that it all seemed to be centred around Malton, and looks like he was right. We’re, what, twenty miles away and it’s only a scattering.’

Kai raised an eyebrow. ‘Aiden?’

‘Look, you’ve got your shagging-of-the-best-friends, I’ve got Aiden.’ I remembered Aiden standing on my doorstep, priapic in my M&S dressing gown. ‘Can we not talk about him.’

‘Is he part of your wish-come-true excitement?’ He had both hands back on the wheel now, and his eyebrows drawn down together in a frown, although he hadn’t looked at me.

‘I don’t know. No. I didn’t wish for anything like that kind of excitement.’

‘And what kind is that?’

‘The kind that comes with handcuffs, thinks sex is enough to make a couple compatible, and has suddenly taken to drinking enormous quantities of whisky,’ I said faintly.

‘That’s exciting, is it?’ Kai swung the Jeep into a turn. ‘Sounds more like an overgrown teenager to me. Does he slam doors and shout “whutevah!” when you disagree with him? But then, I’ve been there too, I’m not one to talk, particularly with the “enormous quantities of whisky” thing.’

‘You don’t look like a drunk to me.’ My voice was even fainter now.

‘I’m a journalist, Holly, not a saint. In fact, I think journalism is the antithesis of sainthood, but I don’t drink so much these days. Getting older, you see. Whisky gives me a headache.’

‘Right.’

A sudden, unexpected smile. ‘What? Did you think I was all squeaky clean, teetotal and dedicated to doing good?’

‘It’s just . . . all your talk about exposing frauds and freeing underage girls . . .’

‘Vodka’d out of my head when I started out,’ he admitted cheerfully. ‘But I hadn’t had much of a life up till then. I was growing up and getting away from everything I’d ever known, which was pretty much mountains, sheep and occasional beltings, so I did go off the rails a bit. I’ve calmed down a lot now.’

‘Oh. Good.’

‘Well, I don’t want to set my grandson and granddaughter a bad example, do I?’ He leaned closer, across the handbrake. ‘Not if there’s anyone watching, anyway.’

‘Are you winding me up?’

---