Part 31 (1/2)

'If people know we're together ...'

'We're not together. We're just friends.'

'I don't think you and I will ever be just friends,' Cam said. He didn't look thrilled about it.

At once Gwen felt angry. 'I loved you, but I couldn't be honest with you. I was so ashamed of my family and my powers and what had happened. I was frightened of the way you'd look at me, that you wouldn't love me any more, so I left.'

'You said you left because of my mother.'

'She was the icing on the cake,' Gwen said. She took a deep breath. 'It was complicated and, let's be honest, it's not much better now.'

The intercom buzzed. 'Mr Laing? Mr and Mrs Shaw have arrived.'

Cam pressed the b.u.t.ton. 'Ten minutes.' He put a hand on her arm.

She felt the heat through the thin material of her dress and looked up into his eyes. 'I don't want trouble. I want to stay here. Live a quiet life.'

'Tomorrow's chip wrappings. Nothing to worry about,' Cam said. 'I'm going to put the word out that there's a journalist sniffing about. I don't think the council will want any more publicity like this and they're pretty influential.'

'I don't know. Lily's on the community council and she's the one who started this. She's friends with the journalist and brought me a load of old cuttings about the original case. I didn't realise what she was threatening at the time ...'

'That sounds like hara.s.sment. Do you want me to apply for a restraining order?'

'Against an upstanding member of the community? Do you think that's a good idea?'

'Lawyer, remember. Any excuse for some paperwork.' Cam smiled.

Gwen felt weak with grat.i.tude for his logical, egotistical definiteness. 'Thanks for the offer. I'll keep it in mind.' Without thinking, she went on tiptoe, intending to kiss him chastely on the cheek. He moved at the last moment and kissed her fully.

They stumbled backwards, Cam lowering Gwen onto the desk and stretching out on top of her. Gwen pulled her legs up and around him, pulling him close. The intercom was buzzing and Gwen pushed Cam away.

He looked a little dazed. 'I don't think this friends.h.i.+p thing is working out,' he said, reaching for her again.

'No.' Gwen sat up.

Cam helped her off the desk, smoothing down her skirt like the gentleman he was. Cool air rushed into the widening gap between them. Come back. 'I can't keep doing this,' Gwen said. Trying to stay rational.

'But we're good together,' Cam said. 'I'm tired of fighting that fact.'

'But the next moment you'll be running away from me. What do you really want?'

Cam frowned slightly. 'I think it's a bit early for the big relations.h.i.+p talk, don't you?'

'But is this a relations.h.i.+p at all?' Gwen said. 'Because, if so, I need to be able to be honest with you. About everything.'

'Absolutely,' Cam said.

His habitual closed expression was back in place and Gwen felt cold inside. 'I think you're wanted.' Gwen nodded to the intercom, which still sounded like an angry fly.

'I hope so,' Cam said, looking at her.

'That information is cla.s.sified,' Gwen said. Say you want all of it. Me, the Finding, everything. Say you don't care what anybody else thinks.

Cam reached out and pulled her close. He kissed her thoroughly, which was very enjoyable but not the same thing as a declaration.

'Later?'

She smiled, even though her heart was squeezing painfully. 'Later.'

'Shall I come to you?'

Melissa popped her head around the door. 'The Shaws are getting restless, sir.'

'Send them in,' Cam said, frowning at the floor. Gwen realised that his papers were lying in drifts around the office.

Mr Shaw walked in, shooting Gwen a look that could've felled an elephant. He paused and looked at the chaos. 'What on earth?'

'Spring cleaning,' Cam said smoothly. 'Please take a seat.'

Gwen raised a hand in goodbye, then slipped away.

By eleven-thirty on Friday, Gwen had had four visitors to her back door. Amanda had come round for a cup of tea and spent half an hour wandering around the house, pointing out building jobs that needed doing. A woman Gwen vaguely recognised from the post office dropped off a gardenia in a zinc pot as an early Christmas gift. There was a brown luggage label attached which said: 'In loving memory of Iris and everything she did for my family'. Fred Byres wanted to know if Gwen had baked any more fruit cake, because it had done his chilblains 'the power of good'. Gwen gave him the salve she'd made the week before, feeling guilty that she'd forgotten about it. He squinted at the small jar, looking less than thrilled. 'Are you going to make some more of that cake, though?'

'Sure,' Gwen said, trying not to be offended. She'd looked up that b.l.o.o.d.y ointment recipe for him, spent time making it. Okay, so then she'd forgotten all about him when her own problems stepped in, but still.

'Just what's needed in this weather,' Fred was saying. 'I like to have it with hot tea. Is that right, do you think?'

It occurred to her that the actual item she gave Fred might not make any difference. The act of being cared for a even in this tiny way a was enough of a balm. In an instant she saw how alone he was, how lost without his wife.

'I'll drop one round,' she said, and was rewarded with a brief smile.

Finally, Marilyn Dixon blew into the kitchen like a force of nature. 'I can't stop, just came to see if you've got any old gla.s.s jars.'

'I do, actually. Iris left boxes of the things,' Gwen said.

'Wonderful! I'm making pickles.'

'What happened to the aromatherapy?'

'That...' Marilyn waved a hand dismissively. 'You can't eat smells. I'm making pickles, chutneys and relishes.'

Marilyn did look a little less angular than before. Healthier. It suited her.

'I've brought you some tomato, lime and chilli jam. To say thank you.'

'There was no need-'

'And I wanted to make sure we were square. No debts. No favours.'

'Of course!'