They worked late into the night, and Matt wondered whether he’d be going to his bedroom alone tonight. Maybe after her call with Sam, Hannah would feel too guilty. But when they finally decided that they needed sleep, she took his hand, pulling him towards her bedroom with a whispered promise that sleep wasn’t the only thing she intended.
They were up early, and Matt had gone to his room to dress, his lips still tingling from her kisses. He rescued his shirt from the press, and put on the suit and tie he’d brought. Hannah emerged from her bedroom wearing a slimline sleeveless dress, buttoned at the front, with high heels. She was carrying a matching jacket, and her hair was caught behind her head in a neat, shining fold.
‘I really wish you hadn’t worn that...’
Dismay registered on her face. ‘Why? Do you think I should wear tights? They’re so hot in this weather...’
‘You look beautiful, and very businesslike. I just want to muss you up a bit again, and those buttons...’ Matt leaned in, his hand hovering over the top button on her dress. ‘Far too much of a temptation.’
‘Ow!’ She was clearly pleased with his assessment. ‘Keep your hands off my buttons, Matt. You can do whatever you like with them later.’
They had a quick breakfast, drawing enquiring looks from some of the other contestants, who were mostly wearing jeans or sweatpants. The production assistant who was going with them to ensure they didn’t do anything that broke the rules bundled into the back of Matt’s car, her phone in her hand, and an outside broadcast van followed them out of the underground car park.
‘Thank goodness for air-conditioning.’ Hannah stretched her legs out in front of her, looking at the sun beating down on the pavements. ‘Our first stop is Streatham. They supply specialist lights, and they’re only open in the morning, so we’ll have to pop in there on our way.’
It took fifteen minutes for Hannah to look at the lights she wanted, and they left with an armful of brochures and some photographs. Then they drove out of London, picking up the motorway before turning off into winding country lanes. Sir James Laurence’s home was nestled in four acres of sunlit garden just outside a pretty village, and they drew up outside the large country house at just before ten thirty.
Matt took their jackets from the hanger inside the car, pulling his on despite the heat. The house was spectacular, a grand entrance at the front and topped by a couple of round turrets and a flag.
‘Here goes nothing...’ Hannah murmured the words, putting on her jacket and walking uncertainly across the gravelled driveway in her high heels. Matt caught her arm to steady her in pretty much the same way that he would have done if they were scaling a climbing wall, but when she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, it felt like something very different. The kind of thing a woman might do after the kind of night last night had been.
A woman in a designer suit, not a hair out of place, was waiting in the large, cool hallway. Hannah stepped inside, smiling. It occurred to Matt that she was so used to walking into different homes and different situations that even this didn’t faze her.
‘I’m Helena, Sir James’s secretary.’ Matt recognised the well-modulated tones from when they’d spoken on the phone yesterday. ‘You have a film crew with you?’
‘They couldn’t keep up.’ Hannah grinned at her. ‘I dare say they’ll be here in a minute. This is the production assistant, Cecile.’
‘I’ll show you where you can set the cameras up, Cecile. Sir James will be on the terrace, so there’s no need for extra lighting.’ Helena was clearly used to dealing with everything and anything.
An older woman, dressed in sneakers, jeans and a flowery shirt, hurried towards them. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, and she carried a pair of gardening gloves, which she laid on the hall table.
‘Hannah and Matt!’ The woman exclaimed, grabbing Hannah’s hand. ‘I’m so pleased you could come.’
If Hannah was taken aback by the greeting she didn’t show it. She beamed at the woman, giving her hand a friendly squeeze.
‘I’m Patti Laurence. I just love Hospital Challenge!’
‘You’ve been watching?’
‘
Oh, yes. Every episode. That little victory dance you do, is that with your son? He’s very cute.’
‘Thank you. Sam’s six—I’d show you the proud mother photos, but they’ve confiscated my phone for the duration.’
‘Oh, really.’ Patti shot Cecile a stern look, which she didn’t deserve. ‘I hardly think you’d cheat. Not after giving up your chance to win to help that man.’
‘I’d be tempted to. I really miss Sam, I’d be calling him ten times a day to find out what he’s doing if I could.’
‘Yes, I can understand that. I was exactly the same with my two when they were Sam’s age.’ Patti turned to Helena. ‘I’ll make the tea, dear, the tray’s ready in the kitchen. Why don’t you deal with the cameras?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Helena smiled, shepherding Cecile away.
‘And, Matt...’ Patti smiled at him, shaking his hand vigorously, and then turned back to Hannah, taking her arm. ‘This way, dear.’
Hannah had clearly made an impression. That was okay, Matt was happy to take a back seat and watch her. His love of watching Hannah wasn’t confined to watching her dress or undress, pretty much everything she did fascinated him.
Patti led them out onto a large terrace, chattering to Hannah all the way about Hospital Challenge. She showed them to a set of comfortable wicker seats arranged around a glass-topped table and shaded from the sun.