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  ‘After Dad died, I knew I couldn’t go on like that. I made myself give Nick an ultimatum. If he wasn’t prepared to take me into account, I would leave him.’

  Ed tried to imagine how he would feel if Perdita told him that. If he had been used to living with her, loving her, and she told him it was over. It had been hard enough when she had refused to see him again after that one kiss.

  ‘What did Nick say?’

  ‘He said it wasn’t fair of me to put pressure on him, and that he was too stressed to cope with my problems on top of everything else.’ Perdita’s voice was empty of all expression and Ed gave a snort of disgust.

  ‘In other words, it was all your fault?’

  ‘Quite,’ she said. ‘I told him that if he thought of me as a stress, then he’d be better off without me, and I walked away. But it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,’ she confessed, remembering the anguish she had endured. ‘The year after that was the bleakest of my life.

  ‘I know it sounds dramatic, but I really did think my heart was literally broken, I had such a terrible pain inside me here.’ She pressed her hand against her chest as if she could still feel that raw grief. ‘I couldn’t even stand upright properly, the pain was so bad. I don’t know what I’d have done if it hadn’t been for Millie. She’s the one who got me through it.’

  ‘Is that why you moved back to Ellsborough?’

  ‘Partly,’ she admitted. ‘I was concerned about how Mum would cope, but I hoped that a change of scene would make it easier to get over Nick too.’

  ‘And did it?’

  ‘I think it was probably easier than it would have been if I’d still been in London. I met Nick through work originally, so there was always a risk that I would bump into him again if I’d stayed, but moving made the break harder in some ways too. I had no memories of him in Ellsborough, no hope, nothing to hang on to at all. I just had to start all over again.’

  There was a silence. Ed drank his wine, thinking about what Perdita had told him. ‘Is that why you won’t consider a relationship with me?’ he asked at last. ‘Because you think I’m like Nick?’

  Perdita shook her head. ‘No, Ed. You’re nothing like Nick. But you do have children, and you do have to put them first. It was a long time before I could think clearly after I left Nick but, when I did, I decided that I was never going to put myself in that position again.’ She paused, wondering how to make him understand. ‘I want someone who’ll put me first for a change,’ she said. ‘I would never ask you to put me before your kids, Ed. It wouldn’t be fair of me and you wouldn’t be able to do it.’

  ‘So you’re only prepared to get involved with a childless man?’ Ed’s voice was unconsciously hard.

  ‘And there’s not that many of them around when you get to your forties-or, at least, not the kind of man you’d want to have a relationship with, I know!’ Perdita managed another smile, a better one this time. ‘But I’ve faced up to that. I can grow old disgracefully on my own, if need be. I don’t need a man to make my life worth living.’

  She hesitated. ‘There’s no point in me pretending that I don’t find you attractive, Ed,’ she said and his head jerked up, the grey eyes alight with an expression that made her heart lurch. ‘I do,’ she told him. ‘But I know what would happen if we got together. We’d go out and Cassie would need a lift, or Tom would need support or Lauren would have forgotten her key…and I’d start to feel resentful, and that would be terrible. Or I might fall in love with you, and my heart won’t stand being broken again. I won’t let that happen. I…I can’t be more than a friend.’

  Ed nodded slowly. There was no point in trying to argue with her and, in any case, how could he ask her to take that risk? And she was probably right. His children were demanding in ways they would never recognise. Of course there would be evenings that would be interrupted. Ed himself didn’t think that was a reason not to try, but he recognised that Perdita had suffered so much after Nick that she was afraid to try again.

  It was strange to think of a woman as brave and as confident as Perdita being afraid, but Ed could see how much it had cost her to tell him about Nick. This wasn’t just a little something she felt awkward or embarrassed about. The determination not to find herself in that situation again was part of her now.

  ‘Friends it is,’ he said after a moment and mustered a smile. ‘At least, if we’re friends, I’ll see you. I’ve missed you,’ he confessed.

  Perdita’s throat was aching with unshed tears and she swallowed. ‘I’ve missed you too,’ she said unsteadily.

  ‘So,’ Ed said, determinedly jolly after a tiny pause, ‘Millie and Grace tell me the launch party is going ahead in a couple of weeks. Will you be coming?’

  ‘If my mother is well enough,’ said Perdita, who had heard all about the plans for the party from Millie. ‘It sounds like it will be a good night.’

  A party sounded fun and, God knew, she could do with some of that.

  She had almost resigned herself to not being able to go but, as the days passed, her mother recovered her appetite and began to seem so much stronger and so much more like her old self that the doctor talked about the right antibiotics kicking in at last, and Perdita began to think that it might be possible to leave her mother alone at night again.

  ‘Go!’ Helen James ordered, making shooing motions with her hands when Perdita talked tentatively about going back to her flat that evening. ‘You’re making me feel like an old woman, fidgeting over me the whole time. I’m perfectly fine.’

  Perdita didn’t believe that, but it did seem that her mother would be happy to be left overnight, and there was no doubt that it felt wonderful to let herself into the blissful solitude of her own flat once more.

  For the first hour or so she really enjoyed herself. She stood on her balcony and watched the river, breathing in the cool, damp air and relishing the quiet. She poured herself a gin and tonic and ran a deep bath. She lay stretched out on her squashy, comfortable sofa and listened to the silence. Her mother always had the television on in the background nowadays and the constant sound had driven Perdita mad. Now she was alone at last and could listen to whatever she liked.

  Bliss.

  Except that after a while, she began to feel…well, restless. Padding into the kitchen on her bare feet, Perdita looked in her larder cupboard for something to eat. The best she could find was a tin of soup, which she opened without enthusiasm and poured into a saucepan.

  A tin of soup for one. How sad was that?

  She had wanted to be on her own again, Perdita reminded herself. She had longed to come back to her own flat and have time to herself. It was perverse to stand here waiting for the soup to heat up and feel wistful as she remembered the evening before. She had gone over to Ed’s house when her mother was happily tucked up in bed and watching the television and had taught them all how to make a cheese sauce.

  It had been a surprisingly successful evening. In spite of some initial moaning and groaning, particularly from Tom and Cassie, all three of the kids had had a go and the final result had met with unqualified approval.

  ‘I wish you could come and cook every night,’ Lauren said, scraping out the dish. ‘It’s not that you’re that bad, Dad,’ she added kindly. ‘But you’ve got to admit that the same old things get a bit boring after a while. It would be more interesting if Perdita were here.’

  ‘Sadly for us, Perdita has her own life,’ Ed said evenly. ‘She’s got better things to do than cook for us.’

  Did she, though? Perdita wondered glumly as she watched the soup obstinately refusing to come to the boil. At least last night had been fun. Even Tom had come out of his shell and there had been some lively discussions and a lot of laughter, punctuated with a few spats and more than a little shouting on Cassie’s part, which had had Perdita and Ed exchanging amused glances.

  Yes, it had been a good evening, and Perdita had been sorry to say goodnight and leave them all behind in the warm, chaotic house with the sound of r
aised voices and clashing music and thunderous footsteps on the stairs.

  At least she and Ed were friends again, she reassured herself. It was as if a huge, black cloud had lifted, knowing that she didn’t have to be careful any more, that she could go round whenever she liked. There would be no misunderstandings now. She had told Ed about Nick and he had accepted that friends was as much as they were ever going to be.

  Being friends was the perfect situation, Perdita decided. No tension, no yearning, no need to touch or feel or taste. Just enjoying each other’s company. Just friends. Perfect.

  So why, she wondered as she poured soup for one into a mug, didn’t it feel perfect?

  Perdita saw Ed as soon as she walked into the party. He was in a group with Grace and when she saw him smile she felt the familiar longing clench at the base of her spine.

  She had never realised that being friends could be so difficult. It had been fine at first. Perdita still thought about how much she had enjoyed the evening she had spent teaching the Merricks how to cook, and she had assumed that things would be settled between them after that.

  Only they weren’t. It wasn’t that anything was said. Ed had obviously accepted her point of view and never introduced anything into the conversation that might be construed as pressure to make her change her mind. Perdita herself was always careful to keep things strictly impersonal.

  But there was too much left unsaid. Perdita had yet to convince her body that being just good friends with Ed was enough. He only had to turn his head or smile and every cell in her body started pulsating with a terrible awareness of him. No matter how sternly Perdita commanded her heart to stay firmly in place, the moment Ed walked into the room it would be off, turning handsprings and ricocheting off her ribs until she was breathless and dizzy.

  And worse was the insistent buzzing feeling beneath her skin, the one that said, Forget friends, put your hand on his thigh, press your lips to his throat, tear off his clothes and kiss him all over-go on, you know you want to, until Perdita was quivering and fizzing with tension.

  Trying not to show it was exhausting. Torn between needing to see him and not wanting Ed to know how much, Perdita became increasingly grouchy and on edge. It was so tiring having to be careful the whole time. She had to be careful not to touch him, even by accident, careful not to look directly in his eyes in case he saw how much she really wanted to touch him. She had to be careful to think about Nick and how much she had suffered. Careful not to remember how good it had felt when Ed had kissed her.

  It was getting to the point where Perdita was beginning to wonder if it would be easier in the long run not to be friends at all. Between feeling tense about Ed and worrying about her mother, she seemed unable to relax at all, and she had even contemplated backing out of the party to launch the garden project-until Millie had got wind of her reluctance and informed her that, short of being carted off to hospital in an ambulance, she was most certainly going to attend.

  ‘Your mum’s much better-you told me that yourself-so don’t even think of that as an excuse!’ she told Perdita roundly. ‘You need a night off. How long is it since you dressed up and had a good time?’ she demanded. ‘Besides, I need you to chat up potential sponsors and tell them how brilliant the project is.’ Millie glanced at her friend. ‘Ed’ll be there,’ she added, studiedly casual.

  ‘I know.’ Faced with some very uncomfortable questioning about why exactly she didn’t want to go, Perdita gave in and promised that she would turn up.

  So here she was, standing at the entrance in a scarlet sheath dress that she had worn for Dutch courage and a pair of high-heeled strappy sandals that Millie always referred to with mocking coyness as her ‘make love to me’ shoes.

  ‘You look fantastic!’ Millie grabbed her before holding her at arm’s length so that she could study her critically. ‘That colour is so good on you.’ She sighed enviously. ‘There won’t be a man here who’ll be able to keep his eyes off you!’

  ‘Come on, Millie, I’m forty. You know we’re invisible now!’

  ‘No way are you invisible in that dress,’ said Millie with a frank look. ‘Or in those shoes, come to that. Who are you wearing them for?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Perdita stiffly.

  ‘Ed?’

  The hateful colour rose in Perdita’s cheeks. ‘Of course not! I’ve told you, we’re just friends.’

  But why was he standing so close to Grace?

  ‘I’m glad you said that.’ Millie leant forward confidentially. ‘I did want to check it was OK with you before I put my seduction plan into operation.’

  ‘What seduction plan?’

  ‘The seduction of Edward Merrick!’ She struck a dramatic pose and Perdita’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘What?’

  Millie opened her eyes, all innocence. ‘Well, you did say I was welcome to him,’ she reminded Perdita. ‘You’re always going on about how you and he are just good friends, so I thought I might as well have a go.’ She glanced at her friend to check her reaction. ‘Of course, Grace is probably in with a better chance than me. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’

  She was. Perdita looked over to where Grace was standing next to Ed. She was laughing and her eyes looked huge and luminous in her pale face. A cold hand closed about Perdita’s heart.

  Millie watched her expression with some satisfaction. You didn’t need to be an old friend to see that Perdita didn’t like what she saw at all.

  ‘Of course, I can’t compete with Grace in the looks department, but it’s possible he might prefer somebody with a Good Sense Of Humour. What do you think?’ she asked Perdita. ‘Am I in with a chance? I mean, you’re his friend, you must know what he likes.’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ snapped Perdita. ‘I’m going to get a drink,’ she told Millie and stalked away, unaware that her friend was grinning as she watched her go.

  Passing a waitress circulating with a tray of drinks, Perdita snatched a glass and practically downed it in one before she could feel her fingers uncurling. The truth was that she hated the idea of Ed getting together with either Millie or Grace.

  Maybe that would be the answer, though? She considered the matter. Surely it would change things if she knew that he was involved with someone else? Perhaps that was what she needed to stop thinking about him like this. Perhaps then they really could be friends if she knew that the only thing standing between them being anything else was more than her strength of will.

  In fact, thought Perdita, downing the rest of her glass, what she really needed was to get involved with someone else herself. Yes, that was it! Helping herself to another glass, she put on her best smile and proceeded to mingle with a vengeance.

  She wasn’t actually expecting to meet anyone. As she had told Millie, she was getting used to the fact that women over forty were practically invisible, and the room was full of much younger and prettier women. Still, it was gratifying to see appreciation warm the eyes of more than one man, and to discover that, even though she had passed the dreaded four-oh milestone, she could still flirt and be flirted with.

  And it was even more gratifying to glance towards Ed and see that he was losing his famous calm and beginning to look positively thunderous.

  The closer his brows drew together, the more Perdita flirted, unable to decide whether she was enjoying herself or feeling wretched. The strain was taking its toll on her, though. She was standing chatting with rather forced animation to the director of a local building contractor when she glanced over his shoulder and found herself looking straight into grey eyes she would have recognised anywhere, and something inside her unlocked. It was like being snapped back into consciousness out of a dream.

  What was she doing? She looked back at her companion. He seemed a perfectly nice, attractive, friendly man, and in other circumstances she might have enjoyed talking to him, but this was now and she didn’t want to be with him. She only wanted to be with Ed.

  Meeting his gaze once more, Perdita had
the strangest sensation that the world was receding behind an invisible barrier. The party continued, people were talking and laughing and lifting their glasses, but the sound was muffled, distant, and there was nothing real but Ed and the expression in his eyes, which had sharpened to a new intensity as she looked back at him.

  Then he was pushing his way through the crowds towards her. ‘Excuse me,’ he said to her puzzled companion as Perdita stood numbly watching him. ‘I just need a word with Perdita outside.’

  Taking her hand, he practically dragged her to the entrance, where a knot of smokers had escaped and were puffing desperately on their cigarettes. Ed muttered under his breath at finding yet more people around and strode round to the shadows at the side of the old building, Perdita stumbling unresisting after him. Barely out of sight of the smokers, he stopped abruptly and, without a word, pressed her up against the brick wall and kissed her.

  It was a furious kiss. His hands were hard, his lips demanding, but Perdita met him halfway, kissing him back as if she were equally angry at the time they had wasted, time they could have been kissing like this. There wasn’t even token resistance in her response, only a dazzling explosion of relief that she was in his arms at last, that she could kiss him again, hold him again, run her hands over his back and feel that he was real and warm and solid.

  Gasping his name, she blizzarded kisses along his jaw when they broke for breath and Ed gave a shaky laugh.

  ‘God, Perdita, what have you done to me?’ he asked in a voice ragged with desire. ‘I’m too old to be losing control like this!’

  He held her face between his palms. ‘You’re driving me mad,’ he told her between kisses. ‘I can’t do this any more, I can’t just be friends…’

  ‘I know…I know…’ she whispered, her lips pressing hungrily against his throat.

  Ed gave a great sigh and rested his forehead against hers. ‘What are we going to do?’ he asked despairingly. ‘I can’t get rid of my kids, Perdita, but I can’t stand not being able to touch you either…I haven’t known what to do with myself these last couple of weeks, and tonight…tonight Millie was the last straw.’