Page 19 of Short Stack 3

I shove him, and he chuckles and opens the door to climb out. A gust of wind and rain immediately meets him. December this year has been wet and windy, and it’s wild here in the village of Fowey. I climb out of the car, and as if by unspoken agreement, we head over to the railings to look out over the river. It’s quieter than in the summer, but there are still a few boats moored and a couple of dinghies zipping busily across the water. In the distance, a ferry chugs towards land. The water is choppy, and the air is filled with the sounds of seagulls calling to each other, the jingling of boat rigging, and the slap of canvas sails.

The town rises steeply in a jumble of buildings, and I know Jude is going to love the narrow streets and pretty shops and pubs. It’s a busy place that never seems to go quiet, mainly because there’s a large yachting fraternity around here.

I eye my husband. For an ex-supermodel, he’s remarkably low-maintenance. His face is to the wind and rain, which are probably causing some kind of damage that’s outlawed in the supermodel handbook. Luckily, he seems to either ignore that book, or he’s never read it. He turns his face up, loving the wildness of the weather as I’d known he would.

I lean into him, throwing my arm over his shoulders and adoring the way he snuggles into me. “I thought we could have a few days here,” I say. “All on our own.”

“Why?”

“Because our house is busier than Clapham Junction,” I say, and he smiles.

The smile falls away slowly, and he suddenly looks anxious. “Won’t Billy mind?”

“Of course not. He’s going to stay with Dylan’s sister for a couple of nights. Her eldest has got the PlayStation game of the moment, and their horse had a new foal. Then he’s going to your mum and dad. The village is having a Christmas party for the local children, so they’re taking him to that.” I pause. “Plus, I promised to bring him a present back.”

He laughs and then looks at me quizzically. “But why the time away now? It’s always busy.”

I shrug. “I think we need to remember that the important base to everything is our marriage. We’ve got to look after it, and we need time on our own.” I look at his merry face. “Ineed time with you,” I admit, watching his eyes sharpen. “I know the series is doing fantastically well, but it takes it out of me, and I miss you while I’m away.”

He hugs me. “I miss you too, but we’ll get through it. It won’t be forever.”

I kiss him, tasting the cold raindrops on his lips. “Exactly. So, I borrowed an old cottage. It’s right on the water with river views. We can snuggle up, watch some films, go for long walks, and explore the area.” I nudge him. “Try out the massive bed I saw in the photos.”

“And explore the setting ofRebecca,” he says excitedly.

“Of course. How could wenotdo that? Especially as you’ve dedicated such a lot of hours to watching the Netflix programme.”

“Manyhours,” he says solemnly. “Obviously, that was mainly to see the costumes.”

“Oh, of course, and Armie Hammer was just wallpaper.”

“Yes,” he says with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Handsome but still wallpaper compared to you.”

“You sweet talker.”

He laughs and goes back to watching the water.

I head over to the car and pull the bags from the boot, and he reluctantly tears himself away from the view to join me, grabbing one of the bags and hefting it onto his shoulder.

“No food?” he asks, poking his long nose into the boot and looking around hopefully.

“No need. The housekeeper has apparently filled the cupboards and fridge with everything we need. We won’t have to cook because she’s prepared some meals that just need heating up.”

“Well, that’s brilliant, but I bet she hasn’t prepared fish and chips. The kind that’s wrapped in paper and that must be eaten on the seafront.”

I shake my head. “You and chips.”

He winks. “It’s a good job I’m not modelling anymore. I’d have a problem with those skimpy briefs.”

“Ihave a problem with those skimpy briefs,” I say, feeling hot at the thought. “Anyway, you’re as skinny as the day I met you. I don’t know where you put all your food.”

“It goes straight to my perfectly rounded and very peachy buttocks.”

I roll my eyes and walk off, hearing his warm laughter float after me.

“The cottage is a short walk away,” I call back. “Do you need me to carry you, princess?”

He comes up next to me. “Will you have your hair down when you do it?”

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