Part 27 (2/2)

After what seemed an age, she s.h.i.+fted a little and, picking up her watch from the bedside cabinet, she glanced at the time. 'Crikey! It's gone midnight!' she exclaimed in surprise.

Replacing the watch, she allowed herself another few lazy moments to think of her family and her parents, and her dear friend, Kathleen, whom she must not forget to call first thing in the morning. Oh! And, she'd best let Anne know that she was on her way back.

Just then, thinking of her friend made her wonder ... 'I wish I could be adventurous and devil-may-care, like you, Kathleen,' she murmured. 'I bet you would never leave if you found a man like Dave Benson. I bet you would do whatever your heart tells you to. But then, you're impetuous, while I'm not ... more's the pity.'

She lay very still, thinking for a while longer, then she got into bed and drew the clothes over, her busy mind a.s.sailed by any number of naughty thoughts. Should I? she asked herself mischievously. Or should I not?

The more she tried to push the idea away, the more confused she felt.

If she denied what her heart was coaxing her to do, she would probably never forgive herself. Yet, if she surrendered to her heart and instincts, would she bitterly regret it afterwards?

By now, she was so worked up and undecided, she was way past sleep. Think, Lucy! she told herself angrily. If Kathleen was here, in this situation, what would she do?

The answer glared her in the face.

Within moments she was out of bed and throwing on her dressing gown. Sliding her feet into her slippers, and without a second thought, she collected the key from the dressing table and quietly let herself out.

Softly closing the door behind her, she had never felt so excited, so afraid, and so absolutely wicked, in all of her life.

Dave was lying awake when the knock on the door startled him.

Curious, and not too pleased at being disturbed, he scrambled out of bed and put on his dressing gown. Going to the door he gingerly opened it, and almost fell over with shock when he saw Lucy standing there in her dressing gown, her wild brown hair looking tousled and damp, and her face clean and pretty as a child's.

'Lucy! What's wrong? What's happened?'

'I couldn't sleep,' Lucy said innocently. 'I've come to see you ... is that all right?'

'Well, yes ... come in. Come in.' His heart was thumping, but he could not understand why she was here. He wondered, but dared not let himself believe it.

Lucy sat on the bed, and after closing the door, he sat beside her. 'Was it that small gla.s.s of wine you drank?' he asked. 'Is that why you can't sleep? It's my fault ... I'm sorry, Lucy. You did say you don't really drink alcohol, and I should not have persuaded you to have the tiniest one ... only I did want us to toast the wonderful memories we made together. I really am sorry. I should have known better-' When Lucy got up as though to leave, he stopped halfway through the sentence. 'Please, Lucy, don't go.'

Lucy had no intention of leaving. Instead she walked round the bed, and climbed in. Then to his astonishment, she stretched out her bare arm and patted the s.p.a.ce beside her.

'I've been thinking,' she said, 'and I've decided that we should listen to my friend's advice.' She looked up at him with big eyes, and a knowing smile that told him everything. 'What do you think, Mr Benson? Should we listen to my friend's advice?'

Dave was almost afraid to ask. 'She's the friend who thought you should ”ravish” me. Am I right?'

Lucy nodded. 'Yes! So tell me, Dave Benson ... do you think we should listen to my crazy friend's advice?' She felt wonderfully shameless and so bold and excited, it frightened her. But she was past caring. If she had learned anything these past few days, it was that life was for living. And why should she let it pa.s.s her by?

She looked across at Dave, who was gazing on her, and slowly shaking his head as though not able to believe that Lucy was actually lying in his bed ... inviting him in.

Lucy smiled up at him. 'Well?' That one word was enough.

Dave stripped off his dressing gown and, stark-naked, he climbed into bed beside her.

'Lucy Lovejoy ... oh, my beautiful ... wonderful woman.' The warmth of her smooth skin against his, felt amazing.

Tenderly now, he ran his fingers along her neck, and down, towards her thighs. Wrapping his two arms about her, he drew her into him, surprised and thrilled when Lucy made no protest.

Instead, without a word, she carefully drew her nightgown over her head and sent it slithering to the floor.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

AFTER FALLING INTO a deep sleep in the armchair, Martin woke with a start.

Momentarily disoriented, he sat up straight and glanced around, woolly-headed, not yet fully awake.

Paula! The first thought that came into his head was the divorce papers, and whether or not she would remember to take them in to the solicitors in the morning. Paula might know how to please a man, he thought, but there were times when a man might be forgiven for wringing her neck.

Getting out of the chair, he began to walk up and down, slowly at first, and then in a panic. She'll forget, he decided, I know she will ... absent-minded, fluffy-headed, wonderful woman ... that's what she is.

He paced the floor a while longer, unsure whether to take matters into his own hands if the letter was ever going to reach the solicitor. He could see he'd have to keep on at her, make her realise that the sooner she got the divorce papers lodged, the sooner they could get things moving towards their new life together.

He spread his hands over his face in despair. What to do? What to do? He didn't want to risk losing her.

Calm down, man! he warned himself. You'll go crazy if you keep on like this. Paula said she would take the papers in tomorrow, and she will. And why would she not? She wants rid of that useless waster, as much as you do. If not more.

He began to feel calmer, more able to think straight, now that he was wide awake. Yes, she'll take them in, he told himself, and the sooner Lucy gets back, the sooner she'll know what I'm planning. There is nothing she can do about it. Me and Paula are made for each other, and I won't rest until the road is clear for us to be married.

The thought of putting a ring on Paula's finger and spending the rest of his life with her was too exciting for words.

I don't care how long it takes, or who gets hurt in the process, Martin decided. It's what me and Paula want, and if her ex thinks he can drag his feet and put barriers up I'll make d.a.m.ned sure he rues the day!

Far from calming himself down, he was now wound up and ready for anything, so he made his way into the kitchen and put the kettle on for a calming brew.

By the time he had got out the tea-caddy and sugar, the kettle had boiled, but instead of making himself a cup of tea, he hurried down the hallway and put on his cap and coat. Growing increasingly agitated, he found his house keys and let himself out of the house.

He started up the van, rammed it into gear, then drove at some speed down the street and onto the main road in the direction of Paula's house.

Once he had eased the van into the alley, Martin was not surprised to see that Paula's house was in complete darkness, except for the light over the back door.

He was now disgruntled. Huh! She was the one who forgot to send the divorce papers, and he was the only one losing sleep ... typical!

Then his mood changed from irritated to thinking that maybe he would get to spend the night with Paula. With Lucy gadding off like that, there was no one to worry where he might be.

Carefully, he parked his van in the bend as always, switched off the headlights, then made his way up to the house, trying to avoid the wide beam from the streetlight that lit up part of the alley.

Arriving at Paula's back gate, he had no idea he was being watched.

'There! I was right ... I said it was Martin's van.'

During her nightly ritual, when she would look out of the bedroom window to make sure there were no prowlers lurking in the alley, Mary Taylor had seen Martin arrive.

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