Page 80 of Love in Tune

‘Does it involve my cock and your mouth?’

Honey laughed and shook her head.

‘Nope. I’m going to make you a cup of tea.’

‘You sure know how to look after a man,’ he said, and Honey could feel his smile against her hair.

‘Never let it be said that I don’t have good manners. You gave me an orgasm, I’ll give you tea. How’d you like it?’

‘Is on your knees out of the question?’

‘Sugar?’ she asked sweetly, extracting herself from his arms.

‘Two,’ he grumbled, pulling himself up to sit, his denim-clad legs thrown out in front of him. He was a sparely built man, long and lithe, the kind of guy who could eat Ben & Jerry’s out of ice cream and still fit the same jeans he’d worn at twenty-one.

Knotting her robe around her waist, she busied herself making tea, her mind back on the sofa with Hal. He’d made it so easy, just brushed aside her hang-ups with his easy touch and his gentle mouth. Ordinarily he was just about the toughest man she’d ever known, and paradoxically, he’d turned out to be the most considerate lover. He’d held himself back tonight and made it all about her, despite the fact that it was his own birthday. That was the thing with Hal. He rarely played by conventional rules, and it made him addictive company. Maybe that was why she’d sought him out as a confidant so many times, sitting on the floor outside his door and pouring out her heart even though he barely acknowledged her presence.

Honey crossed the kitchen to grab the milk from the fridge, and her eyes fell on the envelope that had arrived a few days ago for Hal. Addressed to Mr Benedict Hallam in bold black pen, it definitely looked like personal mail rather than the bills that made up her own usual morning haul of letters. Surely it was a birthday card? The green glow of the oven clock informed Honey that there was still an hour or so left of Hal’s birthday. She stuck the envelope on a tray with the cups and a packet of chocolate digestives and headed back through to the lounge.

‘A letter came for you,’ Honey said, and she felt the temperature in the room plummet from afterglow warm to snowstorm cold. Good job Hal had slid his jeans back on while she made the tea or he’d die of frostbite.

‘A letter?’ he said, completely failing to pull off the casual tone he’d aimed for because of his ramrod-straight shoulders. ‘What kind of letter?’

‘Well, it’s a brown envelope with your name and address written on the front in bold, black writing,’ Honey said, turning it over in her hands. ‘if I had to guess I’d say it’s a man’s handwriting, and by the feel of it it’s probably a birthday card?’

‘Miss Marple’s granddaughter is back in the building,’ Hal muttered.

Honey ignored his barbed comment.

‘Should I open it?’ she asked.

Hal didn’t reply right away. His heavy sigh was the only sound in the quiet room, and he rolled his shoulders and cricked his neck to the side like a boxer limbering up for a fight.

‘It’ll be from my brother,’ he said, grinding the heels of his palms against his jaw. ‘He’s the only one who has this address.’

Was that so bad? Honey wondered silently. A birthday card from his brother? From Hal’s reaction, the answer was most probably yes.

‘Just open it,’ Hal said, so quietly that Honey felt the need to double check.

‘You’re sure you want me to?’

He didn’t reply. Honey looked at him, feeling his simmering anxiety and hoping that the letter turned out to be nothing after all. Dragging her gaze away from him and back to the envelope, Honey slid her finger under an open edge and ripped it carefully.

As predicted, it was a birthday card, heavy and cream, and again as predicted, the front said ‘brother’ in embossed gunmetal letters. It definitely wasn’t the kind of card Honey would have found in the corner shop; it screamed money and understated elegance.

‘Well?’ Hal ground out, still facing the floor.

‘Well,’ Honey began, ‘it’s, umm, it’s a birthday card saying “brother”, so you guessed right there.’

‘Inside?’

She hadn’t opened it yet, and in truth, she was frightened to. Hal had arrived in her life as if he’d been dropped from outer space. No family or friends intruded into the bubble, and it had allowed Honey to get to know him in isolation as a man, rather than as a son, a friend, or as someone’s brother. The arrival of the card served to highlight that she didn’t really know him well at all, and that there were people out there who did. With unsure fingers, she cleared her throat and opened the card.

It wasn’t just a birthday card. There was a second, smaller envelope nestled inside the card, and written across it in cerise ink was just his name. Hal. The writing was different to that on the previous envelope, very distinctly feminine. Honey’s heart sank. This wasn’t just a birthday card after all, or a minor intrusion. It was a letter; it was two worlds colliding. Hal’s old life and his new life about to intersect.

‘What does it say?’ he asked, his anxiety coming through as impatience.

Honey forced her eyes to read the writing in the card.

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