Page 20 of Coming Home to Roseford Villas
‘Oh, you remember,’ Leo replied. ‘I’m sure, even after all this time, there are some things we did that must be seared into your memory as much as they are in mine! I mean, surely you won’t need to mention the time I escaped out of your bedroom window at 2a.m., when your folks had thought I’d left at ten! Or those more, er, “experimental” things we thought we should try, just becauseMore!magazine had them on their back page?’
Rory’s face grew even warmer. She knew all too well what Leo was alluding to, and, despite having her diaries as an aide-memoire, she didn’t need reminding of the times when enthusiasm had overwhelmed expertise. The fact that she was still teasingly close to him made her even more nostalgic. But this wasn’t just nostalgia. If she wasn’t careful, she could end up making some pretty heated new memories with this man. She pulled away a little regretfully. ‘Well,’ she said, as Leo’s hand dropped from her waist. ‘On that note, I’d better get back to the chalet and try to make sense of the scribbles I made during my time with Stella today. I’ll see you soon.’
‘Definitely,’ Leo replied. He looked a little disappointed that she wasn’t going to stay longer, but Rory still had facts and ideas buzzing in her head from her day’s research, and she was desperate to get them into some kind of order. As she wandered back through the French windows, she glanced back over her shoulder to see Leo still standing there, watching her, an unreadable expression on his face. She got the feeling that he still wasn’t sure about being used for ‘inspiration’, and that maybe this wouldn’t be the last conversation they were going to have about that strand of her novel.
23
Did I just agree to a first proper date – asecondfirst date – with Leo McKendrick?Rory turned the question over and over in her mind as she let herself into the chalet. She’d left Roseford Villas determined to get straight into making sense of the notes and discussions she’d had with Stella, but as she switched on her laptop again, she found her thoughts occupied with what had just happened between herself and Leo. She couldn’t ignore the chemistry between them: she’d used kissing his cheek as an excuse just to get closer to him, to touch him, to get a sense of his familiar geography again. Her thoughts were overtaken by an odd feeling of excitement and nostalgia, and as she began to type, words tumbled from her brain to the page, not about Edmund Treloar, but about her own emotions, past and present. She knew she’d have to fictionalise it, but for the moment she just revelled in the unedited ideas as they came to her. As much as she’d assured Leo that she wouldn’t write anything that could identify him or embarrass him, she found herself recalling those early, ecstatic days, when they thought they’d be together forever, and the discoveries they’d made about one another in subsequent months, as they grew closer.
An hour later, she saved the document to her desktop and leaned back in her seat. What she’d written would never be published: at least, not in its current form, but it had been cathartic to get it out of her head and onto the page. Before she closed the laptop, she looked again at the last paragraph she’d written and smiled.
Leo seemed to have that instinctive and assured touch, and I responded to it every single time he reached for me. We fitted together perfectly, as if no other two people could ever be such a fit. He used to luxuriate in my hands, and I in his, until we lost ourselves in each other, for those precious moments we were alone. He was my first, and at that point, I really believed he’d be the last. How wrong I was.
Rory shook her head. It was pure, saccharine nonsense, and it would never make any kind of final draft (as were the frankly rather pornographic descriptions of their more assured lovemaking sessions in the later stages of their relationship), but it was what she needed to write. She had a funny feeling that writing about it wasn’t all she needed, though. She tried to slow herself down. She’d agreed to go to Shona Simmonds’s talk with Leo, and she’d see how that went. It would be nice to spend time with him doing something different, away from that obsessive introspection that seemed to dog them in all their interactions so far. What they needed was time: time to get to know each other again, and a little lightness.
With that in mind, she spent the evening determined to make some progress on the section of the book she was working on. If she was going to play hooky with Leo and go to see and hear Shona Simmonds, she wanted to have plenty of her own words under her belt before she did so. That way, perhaps, she could really make use of Shona’s knowledge and experience.
When the morning of Shona’s talk dawned, Rory was keen to get out of the chalet. She’d binged on her own writing for a productive twenty-four hours, only stopping to eat and sleep, and she definitely needed to get some sunshine and talk to people. As she got ready, putting on a pair of denim shorts and a pretty striped top, she felt excited both for the talk and that she was going to be spending some time with Leo.
A knock at the chalet door brought her back to the present. She shoved a notebook in her backpack and hurried to answer it. Seeing Leo on the other side, dressed in a plain white T-shirt and dark blue cargo shorts, she drew in a quick breath. He looked absolutely gorgeous. His dark olive skin, that always looked great whatever the season, had tanned to a darker colour as a result of all of the outdoor work in the garden, and it was offset by the bright white T-shirt to very attractive effect.
Oh, God…she thought as she realised that whatever happened today, she was more than willing to let it.
‘Hey.’ Leo smiled as she pushed open the door. ‘Are you ready to meet your literary idol?’
Rory nodded, and then decided she probably should respond in words. ‘Can’t wait,’ she stammered. ‘I hope you won’t get too bored.’
‘I’m sure I’ll learn a lot.’ Leo grinned. ‘Although if the discussion gets too saucy, I might have to get some fresh air. I wouldn’t want to discover too many trade secrets!’
Rory laughed nervously. ‘I’m sure she’ll be very interesting, even for a listener who’s never read any of her novels.’
‘I read one once,’ Leo admitted, rather sheepishly. ‘Mum had one on the shelf back when we still lived in the UK. I was twelveandverybored in the summer holidays. Let’s just say that Shona Simmonds’s work opened my eyes, in more ways than one.’
‘You never told me that!’ Rory, nerves suddenly abating with Leo’s revelation, shook her head. ‘When I spent all that time banging on about how amazing she was, and how much I loved her books, why didn’t you admit you’d read one?’
‘I was shit scared you’d think I was some kind of weirdo for reading my mum’s books,’ Leo replied. ‘I mean, what sixteen-year-old is going to admit to that?’
‘I’d have loved to have talked about it with you,’ Rory said. ‘I think it would have been great.’ She paused, then smiled broadly. ‘But I suppose I can understand why sixteen-year-old you might have been worried about ’fessing up!’
‘I hope my confession hasn’t put you off the grown-up me,’ Leo laughed. ‘I mean, I’d hate to think, as we were getting on so well, that I might have blown it.’
‘Not at all,’ Rory replied. ‘In fact, I think it’s very brave of you to admit to it. And I can only imagine what twelve-year-old Leo might have made of Shona’s more, er, “grown-up” work. Which one was it, by the way?’
‘Boundaries of Desire,’ Leo replied immediately. ‘Kara and Kayden Chance’s storyreallygave me a lot to think about.’
Rory’s eyes grew wider. ‘I bet it did. I mean, I’ve read every single word Shona Simmonds has ever published and even I was, er, “moved” by that one.’
‘Certainly gave me some ideas about what was and wasn’t physically possible on top of a snooker table!’ Leo laughed. ‘Can’t say I’ve ever wanted to trythatout.’
‘I might have attempted it once, at university,’ Rory admitted, flushing slightly. ‘But it definitely wasn’t as, er, exciting as Shona’s version.’
‘I’m going to refrain from cracking jokes about potting balls and long, hard cues.’ Leo was openly laughing now. Rory foundherself thinking what a lovely sound it was, to hear him so happy. ‘And as for polishing the end…’
‘Oh, stop!’ Rory was giggling, too.
‘Puts me in mind of that night we all stayed over at Matt Thurston’s place,’ Leo continued. ‘Do you remember? He had that massive house, with a games room. His folks were away, and he threw a huge party, and got in a massive keg of cider. We all ended up passing out in the games room, and you and I fell asleep on the pool table. It was the most uncomfortable night’s sleep I’d ever had!’ He shook his head. ‘Closest I ever got to shagging someone on top of one, I can tell you that.’
‘If I remember rightly, you were so pissed, you just crashed out anyway,’ Rory observed. ‘Just as well really, since there were about twenty of us in there, all trying to sleep.’
