Free Thursdays in the Park by Hilary Boyd Page B

nothing will happen, she repeated to herself like a mantra, but each time her assertion seemed weaker and less convincing.
    ‘Can we just do this . . . now . . . and not think . . .’
    He held her gaze and this time she made no attempt to look away.
    ‘The park’ll be closed . . . it’s after eleven.’
    They changed tack and began to walk along the road that traced the south end of the cemetery.
    ‘How can it be after eleven?’ Jeanie checked her watch, incredulous that they had spent over five hours together. Hours that had passed in a heartbeat.
    She was a little drunk, and the darkness was cool and anonymous.
    ‘Kiss me,’ she said, turning to him as he walked beside her.
    Without a word he steered her gently into the lee of a tree overhanging the cemetery railings.
    Nothing had prepared her for this. As his lips touched hers she felt herself taken up in pure, exquisite sensation which seemed to appease a longing she had not known she possessed.
    ‘God.’ It was more a sigh than a word that she heard him whisper. ‘You’re trembling,’ he added, putting his arms tightly round her body.
    ‘Do you blame me?’ Her laugh sounded soft and shivery in the night air. ‘I can’t go home . . . he’ll see . . .’
    ‘See what? He’ll be in bed, won’t he?’
    Jeanie nodded with relief. ‘I’d forgotten how late it is . . . I hope so, but I’d better get back. I don’t want him phoning Rita in the middle of the night.’
    They began to walk arm in arm up the hill, Jeanie grateful for the support.
    ‘What does Rita think?’
    ‘Oh, Rita . . . she’s my friend . . . you’d love Rita.’
    Silence fell as they both contemplated the possibility of their two worlds coinciding.
    ‘Will you meet me again, Jeanie?’ he asked quietly.

9
     
    ‘So?’ Rita’s voice was charged.
    ‘Ummm . . .’
    ‘What happened? Come on, darling, every detail, please. No holding back.’
    ‘I’m in the shop.’ Jeanie moved to the kitchenette, but was aware that Jola could still hear. ‘Can we talk later?’
    She heard Rita growl with frustration. ‘How can you do this to me? You know I don’t do patient.’
    Jeanie laughed. ‘Meet me at Nero’s in half an hour?’
    ‘Done.’
    Her friend’s face was alive with anticipation as they settled with their cappuccinos. The small cafe was hot and packed as usual, a large contingent of mothers, or perhaps nannies, with their oversized buggies and roaming under-threes creating a pleasant chaos.
    ‘Spill . . . now,’ Rita ordered, rapping the round wooden table.
    ‘God . . . where to start.’ She looked at Rita, embarrassed suddenly. ‘He’s wonderful, we just . . . I don’t know . . . connect. How can I describe how he makes me feel without sounding like Mills & Boon?’ She tailed off. ‘It’s just so easy to be with him, we talked for hours.’
    ‘Never mind the talking, did he kiss you?’
    ‘Yes.’ Jeanie found herself blushing.
    ‘And?’ Rita was leaning forward eagerly.
    Jeanie took a deep breath. ‘Heaven.’
    Her friend clapped. ‘Hurray . . . God, you deserve it, darling.’
    ‘I do?’
    ‘Well, doh. I should say so, with a husband who’s withheld sex for decades.’
    ‘Only one decade.’
    ‘Splitting hairs, darling. Believe me, you deserve this. Is it just lust, or are you falling in love with him?’
    ‘I can’t even think straight. We agreed not to label it. Just let it be what it was.’
    Rita harrumphed. ‘Sounds a bit touchy-feely to me. It’s me you’re talking to, Mrs L. You can agree all you like not to label it with this park fellow, but you can tell
me
. Are you in love?’
    For some inexplicable reason, Jeanie found herself beginning to cry.
    ‘Darling, what’s the matter?’ Rita reached for her hand, looking contrite. ‘I didn’t mean to be pushy.’
    ‘It’s not you, it’s just . . . I don’t know. Rita, I’m married, and George is a decent man. But Ray is . . . well, he’s wonderful. I haven’t ever felt so