Page 21 of Lessons in Life

‘More than just a garden, Robyn. I was amazed. It’s like a secret garden that goes on for ever.’

‘It’s not that secret, Mum.’ Jess, in the process of serving dishes of steaming green vegetables and tiny garlic-and-rosemary-laden roast potatoes laughed. ‘It’s horribly overgrown and no one ever goes there. Haven’t done for years really. Even the gardeners seem to have given up on it, to be honest.’

‘Exactly,’ Mum enthused. ‘No one goes in there. I bet you’ve never been right up to the boundary wall, have you, Jess?’

‘No, and I’ve no desire to. It’s all overgrown with weeds and broken paths and tumbled-down walls. Spidery things and slugs.’ She shuddered. ‘Wouldn’t be surprised if there are feral cats… foxes…’

‘Who does it belong to?’ Fabian took a mouthful of the fish in front of him without waiting for an answer, more interested in the food than a rambling, uncared-for bit of garden. ‘Jess, you are an absolute genius. Where d’you get sea bass as fresh as this?’

‘I go and see a man about a fish.’ Jess laughed. ‘Well, several fishes. In Midhope. He drives daily across to Grimsby for the catch of the day. He supplies all the local restaurants. Costly, but, you know, if you want fresh…’

‘Bacon, samphire and…?’ Fabian chewed speculatively before swallowing the fish and accompanying ingredients from inside one of the delicate razor clams.

‘Seaweed,’ Jess said proudly.

‘Of course.’ Fabian smiled. ‘Fabulous. Jess, you need to cook for other people, not just for your family.’ He swallowed, paused and then asked, ‘So, Lisa, some sort of building in the middle of this great big garden?’

Mum nodded. ‘Really strange. Someone – presumably the original owners of Hudson House – must have thought it de rigueur to build a summer house in their back garden.’

‘Oh, it’s a summer house?’

‘Much more than that. It’s huge, built along Greek classical lines. All white marble and Doric pillars. It reminded me of a miniature White House.’

‘In the middle of a Yorkshire garden? How did they get planning permission for that?’

‘Did you need planning permission back in the day?’

‘Which day?’

‘Well, I don’t know much about architecture,’ Mum said, ‘but I assume maybe the twenties or thirties? You can see why the original owners of Hudson House wanted this great stonking edifice in their back garden. They’d have a ball showing off to the local industrialists in the garden.’

‘Sounds wonderful,’ Fabian said. ‘And big enough for the family to eat out there and entertain in it?’

‘The family? Fabian, it’s huge. It’s big enough for a whole restaurant-full of people to eat there.’

‘Well, not for much longer.’ Jess put down her knife and fork. ‘The place is about to be sold. I guess the house, together with this summer house, will be razed to the ground so the Sattars can expand their Frozen empire.’

* * *

‘I don’t ever want to spend another night without you in my bed.’ Fabian rolled me onto my back, easing the weight of his body onto his arms above me while gazing down at me with such love in his eyes, I knew I would forever thank whichever God it was that had decided this man should be mine.

His beautiful dark eyes, in the light from the one single lamp on Mum’s bedside table, were deep, almost fathomless, and I fancied I could actually drown in their depths. And die happy. I laughed slightly, embarrassed at my thoughts; wanting to tell him how I felt but unable to find the words, never mind the courage, to lay bare my soul to him.

Fabian reached out a hand, touching my lower lip first with his finger and then with the tip of his tongue, lightly, oh, so lightly, until I almost cried out for more. But he held off, teasing until I found myself pulling him to me, wanting to possess every part of him. Wanting nothing more than to be possessed by him.

Afterwards he moved onto his back, pulling me down onto his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around me, kissing my forehead while wrapping my long black curls around his fingers. Who would have known such a small gesture could be so utterly sexy?

‘Hell,’ I said, glancing at Mum’s little bedside clock radio, ‘I have to be up in five hours. What are you going to do with yourself in the morning?’

‘I’m going out with your mum.’

‘Out with Mum?’ I twisted round to face Fabian. ‘Out where?’

‘I’m going to take a look at this garden of hers.’

‘Which garden?’

‘The one she was talking about.’

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