I had no idea then that I would do what I have—that I would be here, now, like this, with him!
How far she had come since those first excruciatingly painful and awkward days as her life changed beyond recognition. Her eyes rested on Anatole now, hunkered down by the sandpit, engaging with his infant second cousin. Emotion went through her—and not just because of the sight of him and Georgy playing so happily, so naturally together. So much at ease.
She was at ease with him too now. Finding his company not fraught or awkward. Well, not in the same way, at any rate, she amended. Having her makeover had set off that intense awkwardness again, but she was getting used to her new look now. Finding it easier to cope with.
Enjoying it...
Because it was good to know she looked good! The novelty of it had lost its terror for her, leaving only pleasure. She’d caught sight of herself in the mirror in the ladies’ here and a little ripple of pleasure had quivered through her. The designer jeans hugged her hips and thighs, the ankle boots, soft and comfortable, lengthened her legs, and the caramel lambswool jumper warmed and flattered her.
One of the young male servers came out and took their drinks order. His eyes, as he smiled down at Lyn, told her that she looked good to him too. That little ripple of pleasure came again.
From where he sat, Anatole watched Lyn interacting with the young man. It was good to see her being chilled about the effect she was having on the male population.
If she gets used to it from other men, she will get used to it from me too....
The words slid into his head and he busied himself with Georgy again, who was taking another lunge at the enticingly crunchy sand.
Lunch passed enjoyably, and afterwards they resumed their drive, finally reaching the South Downs. An airy walk on the high chalk expanse, with Georgy hoisted high on Anatole’s shoulders, his little fists impaling his hair, laughing heartily, gave them some exercise. They paused at a viewpoint to look out and down over the blue glittering Channel beyond. Lyn tried to make out the coastal geography, hazarding some guesses as to what they were seeing.
‘Do you know this part of England?’ Anatole asked her.
‘It has special memories for me,’ she admitted.
Her gaze went out to the coast, and he saw a faraway look in her face—a look that was taking her back down the years.
‘We came here on holiday once,’ she told him. ‘It was just about the only happy holiday I can remember. We stayed on a caravan park, right on the seashore, and Lindy and I were set loose to head down onto the beach every day. It was wonderful! We were so happy, I remember—so carefree! There were some beautiful houses at the far end of the bay, where the gardens opened right out onto the beach, and Lindy and I used to walk past them all and discuss which one we’d live in when we were grown up and had pots of money and no worries and cares.’
Anatole glanced at her. ‘That sounds like you had a need for escapism,’ he ventured, hoping she might say more.
It was good that she was starting to open up to him—to talk about her own life, herself, and Georgy’s mother, too. He wanted to go on drawing her out. It was a sign that she was really starting to trust him, and he needed her to do that. The changes to her life he was imposing on her were so fundamental he did not want her shying away from them, panicking about what she was agreeing to do—bringing Georgy out to Greece and settling him there. So the more she confided in him, the more that trust would grow.
Lyn gave a little sigh. ‘Yes, I suppose it was escapism, really. I remember that sometimes after that holiday, when things were particularly grim at home, I used to let myself fantasise that Lindy and I had run away to live in one of those lovely seaside houses on the beach—far away from the stress and strain of coping with Mum and all that went with her...’
‘Was it so difficult when you were growing up?’ he asked, his voice sympathetic.
She made a face. ‘Well, I know many children have it loads, loads worse! But even so...for Lindy and me it was—well, difficult. That word you used fits the description.’ She took a breath. ‘Looking back, I can see that Mum probably suffered from depression. But whether it came from inside her, or whether it was because she couldn’t really make a relationship last, I don’t know. She’d have downers and take off for the pub, drown her sorrows. It’s why I ended up more or less bringing up Lindy myself.’ Her voice changed. Softened. ‘Not that it wasn’t a joy to do so. Lindy was always so sweet, so loving! And she had an infectious sense of humour—she could always set me laughing to cheer me up.’
Anatole saw a reminiscent smile cross her expression. ‘What is it?’ he probed. He let his gaze dwell on how, when she smiled, it lifted her features, lighting up her clear eyes and curving her tender mouth to show pearl-like teeth.
How could I ever have thought her unremarkable? If her sister had half her appeal Marcos must have been lost!
But, much as he might want to indulge himself in gazing at how her lovely smile enhanced the beauty that her makeover had revealed to him, he focused on her answer.
‘The caravan park we stayed at was in a place called the Witterings,’ Lyn explained. ‘It’s a pair of villages—East Wittering and West Wittering—and Lindy found the names hilarious! She only had to say them out loud and she fell into fits of giggles—and set me laughing too.’
There was fondness in her voice, and her expression had softened even more, but Anatole could see that faraway look in her eyes again—a shadow of the sadness that haunted her, at knowing her sister had barely made it into adulthood.
Let alone lived long enough to raise the child they were now caring for...
‘We can go and visit there some time,’ he said. ‘If you would like?’
Lyn lifted her face to his. ‘Can we? Oh, that would be lovely! I would love Georgy to know the place where his mother was happy as a child!’
He felt a spear of emotion go through him. As she gazed at him, her face alight, something moved inside him. He, too, longed for Georgy to know the beach by his grandfather’s house, where he and Marcos had played as boys.
‘We shall definitely do it,’ he said decisively. ‘Too far, alas, to include it in today’s excursion, but we’ll find an opportunity another day.’
He started walking again, and Lyn fell into stride beside him.
She must not let herself be endlessly sad for Lindy, she knew that—knew that her beloved sister would not want it. Would want, instead, for Lyn to do everything within her power to ensure the son she hadn’t been able to look after herself had the very best future possible!
Her eyes went to the man walking beside her. A stranger he might be, but with each day he was becoming less so—and, like her, he wanted only one thing: that Georgy should be kept safe, safe with them, not given to others to raise. And if that meant carrying out this extraordinary and unlikely plan of making a marriage between them, then she would see it through!
Marrying Anatole is the way I can keep Georgy safe with me—that’s all I have to focus on!
Yet even as she repeated her mantra to herself she stole a glance sideways and felt her breath give a little catch that was nothing to do with the exertion of walking along these high, windswept downs and everything to do with the way she wanted to gaze and gaze at the compelling profile of the man beside her. At the way the wind was ruffling his sable hair, the way the sweep of his long lashes framed those sloe-dark eyes of his...and the way his long, strong legs strode effortlessly across the close-cropped turf, his hands curled around the chubby legs of Georgy, borne aloft on his wide shoulders.
He is just so incredible-looking!
The words burned in her consciousness and so too did the realisation that today—just as yesterday—she was finally looking like the kind of female a man like him would be seen with. Her style of looks might be quite different from Lindy’s blonde prettiness, but she would have been lying if she had not accepted that with her new hairstyle, her new make-up and her beautiful new clothes she drew his approbation.
The transformation he had wrought in her appearance was just one more of the good things he was doing for her!
A sense of wellbeing infused in her and she heard scraps of poetry floating through her head as they walked the iconic landscape. The chalk Downs that ran along the southern coast of England plunged into the sea further east at Dover, and the peerless White Cliffs that defined the country. It was a landscape that had been celebrated a hundred years ago by one of England’s most patriotic poets, Rudyard Kipling.
‘“The Weald is good, the Downs are best—I’ll give you the run of ’em, East to West,”’ she exclaimed.
Anatole threw her an enquiring look and then his glance went down to her upturned face. Colour was flagged in her cheeks as the breeze crept up the steep scarp slope from the glittering Channel beyond. It lifted her hair from her face, and her eyes were shining as clear as the air they breathed. She seemed more alive than he had ever seen her. Vivid and vital.