Off the Record (6 page)

‘You could have gone to the party if you wanted,’ said Kate. ‘I’m sure you could catch up with them if you change your mind.’

Paul sat forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his joined hands. ‘Do you want to go party? With strangers?’

Kate matched his pose. ‘Only if I can write about it.’

‘Haven’t you been listening to a word I said, Ms Armstrong? I don’t provide stories for the papers. If you want to write about it, you’ll have to make it up. I just wanted a quiet meal getting to know you, off the record.’ He picked up the woman’s card and carefully tore it in half, and then in half again. The pieces fell like confetti onto the tablecloth. ‘If you want something for the record, I’ll tell you this. I would never, ever accept an invitation like that. I don’t know those women, or their friends, and frankly I don’t find that sort of approach attractive. I like to do my own asking.’

‘But … you looked as though you were considering it.’

He shook his head. ‘Kate, Kate. My papa taught me good manners. Can you imagine the fall-out if I’d told those chicks there was no way in hell I’d party with them? At least this way they’ve gone away happy.’

‘And they’ll tell anyone who listens that you want to party with them – adding to your playboy reputation.’

‘You see? It’s all smoke and mirrors. Nothing to it.’ He laughed at her expression. ‘So, are you up for some death by chocolate?’

She shuddered at the thought that he was so used to this sort of attention and misinterpretation from women. The fact that he had dealt with it so skilfully bothered her. Who was the real Paul Brand? Was his father like this too? So cynical and manipulative. She hoped not – Johnson Brand was going to see her mother! What if he … if they …? She shook her head, banishing unwelcome images. The Brand men might be dangerously attractive, but her mother had resisted his father once, and was older and wiser now. As for herself, well, she would keep an open mind and guard her heart around Paul Brand, no matter how intriguing she found him. Even if it killed her.

Chapter Seven

Alex walked home on Friday evening with a new spring in her step. Everyone had been so sweet about her new look, and now that she’d had a chance to get used to it, she’d enjoyed their reactions. She felt good, really good, and she couldn’t wait to see Kate again to show her.

Her step faltered as she remembered the conversation she’d had with Kate a few days ago. Kate had met Johnson. Alex wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Part of her wanted to leave Johnson in the past, in her memories. The thought of him meeting and talking to her daughter spooked her. Alex sighed, knowing that she was more regretful than relieved that she hadn’t had the chance to see Johnson face to face again, but maybe it was for the best.

As she neared home, she saw that her neighbour, Mrs Smith, was in her porch, speaking to a man. His back was to her, and he was leaning forward, talking to the elderly woman. She thought he looked vaguely familiar, but it was difficult to tell from that angle. Anyway, it wasn’t any of her business who visited the Smiths. With a shrug, she decided it didn’t matter, and turned into her garden path.

‘There she is! I told you she wouldn’t be long, didn’t I? Alex, dear, you’ve got a visitor.’

Alex stopped. She knew. She just knew. The man straightened up and she saw that particular shade of golden hair, shot with silver now, before he turned to face her.

Startled, she met his blue gaze. In the back of her mind she could hear a voice telling her to be careful what she wished for. For what seemed like an eternity they stood frozen. Then Alex smiled. A brilliant, joyful smile, letting the girl she had once been shine out. She felt something around her heart loosen as his lips curled into an answering grin. He stepped out onto her neighbour’s path.

‘Hey, Sandy,’ he greeted her softly. ‘It’s been a long time.’

The sound of Mrs Smith’s voice jarred, bringing them both back to reality. ‘I was just going to offer your friend a cup of tea. Would you like one, dear?’

Alex blinked, amazed that she was capable of recognising speech, let alone understanding Mrs Smith’s offer. ‘Er, no, thank you,’ she responded, her voice sounding rusty to her ears.

‘No? Oh well, have a nice visit, my dears.’

She acknowledged the elderly lady’s goodbye as she closed her door. Alex knew that Mrs Smith would be straight on the phone, reporting her visitor to her network of friends around the village. Thank goodness her neighbour’s hearing wasn’t very good; otherwise they’d have faced an enquiry about Johnson calling her Sandy.

‘So,’ he stepped over the flower border separating the two garden paths and came to stand in front of her. He was just as tall as she remembered, but he’d filled out too. She didn’t recall his shoulders being that broad before. ‘Are you going to offer me a cup of tea?’

She smiled again. His smile – that teasing, cajoling, cheeky grin that was guaranteed to get him whatever he wanted – hadn’t changed at all.

‘Oh, I think I can manage that,’ she responded. ‘It’s good to see you, Johnson.’

‘Yeah. It’s been too long.’

‘Come on in.’ She led him into her kitchen. He looked huge in the low-ceilinged room.

‘Have a seat.’ She waved him to the oak table and chairs under the window where she usually ate alone these days. ‘Tea? Or would you prefer coffee?

‘Real coffee?’ He asked cautiously.

She chuckled. ‘Yes. Kate exists on the stuff in London, so she insists on real coffee here too.’ She put the kettle on to boil and spooned coffee into a glass cafetière.

‘You know I met her?’

‘Yes, she rang me. She wrote a good article about you, don’t you think? Or am I just being biased? She’s my pride and joy.’

‘It was good. She had an interesting angle. She’s a talented writer, and a credit to you. I liked her a lot. After I’d gotten over the shock of thinking she was you, of course.’

Alex turned from getting a couple of mugs out of the cupboard and leaned against the counter, regarding him thoughtfully. ‘It’s been long time since I looked like that, Johnson,’ she said softly. ‘Time doesn’t stand still.’

He ran a hand through his hair, bringing her attention to his silver-shot locks. ‘Yeah, I know,’ he slanted a wry smile. ‘But I’m guessing you’d have the same reaction if you saw my son Paul.’

‘Really? Is he a lot like you?’

‘A regular chip off the old block.’

She smiled. ‘It must be nice for you to work together.’ Alex brought the mugs to the table and poured the coffee before taking the chair next to him. She angled it so that she was facing him and sat down. Johnson glanced at the drinks, then slanted her a quizzical look.

‘What?’ she asked, then began to rise. ‘Oh, sorry! Do you take milk and sugar? I forgot to ask. I just assumed you still drink it black.’

He put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back into her seat. ‘You remembered how I like my coffee?’

‘It’s a gift,’ she shrugged. ‘Or a curse, I can’t work out which. I have an incredible memory for trivia. How people like their drinks, what the weather was like three weeks ago …’ She lost her train of thought as she realised that his hand was still warm on her shoulder.

‘That must be tough,’ he commiserated.

‘It’s awful,’ she responded, feeling his heat radiate through her body. ‘Doesn’t leave any room in my brain for …’

‘For?’ he asked, leaning closer.

‘Important stuff,’ she sighed, giving in to the urge to meet him halfway.

It was a sweet kiss. A hello. An I’ve-missed-you kiss. Alex’s heart swelled. It had been so long since she’d been kissed with such sweetness. Not since she’d lost David … with a gasp she sat back, breaking contact.
What on earth am I doing?

Johnson opened his eyes slowly, not wanting to lose the moment. No one else tasted as good as Sandy. He’d spent most of his life searching for that taste. Now he’d found it – her – again. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but pushing through the joy he felt fear. He’d lost her once. Did he want to go through that again? He knew nothing about her life now, the person she was now, apart from the fact that she was widowed two years ago. Perhaps she was already committed to another man. Why the hell hadn’t he asked?

Alex studied his face, so familiar, yet so different. For a moment she had been a teenager again, but that was an illusion. She knew that she ought to feel guilty about kissing him, but she just couldn’t. This was Johnson, her first love. Even though decades had passed, she couldn’t help but remember what a sweet boy he had been. But that didn’t mean she should lose her head over the man sitting at her table now.

His blue gaze was filled with desire, regret, confusion, mirroring her own emotions. For a moment they just stared at each other. Then he broke eye contact and reached for his coffee and took a sip.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘That was presumptuous of me.’

Alex nodded. ‘It’s been a long time. We don’t know each other anymore. I suppose we were both curious.’

He picked up his drink and took a cautious sip. ‘Good coffee,’ he rasped before taking another.

‘Thank you. It was a good kiss too.’

Johnson choked on the hot liquid, almost dropping his mug. He put it down carefully.

‘Are you all right?’

‘I can’t believe you said that!’ he said, laughter hovering.

Alex put a hand to her mouth, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not usually so forward. Goodness, it feels like I’m in a time-warp!’

He smiled, reaching out and tracing her jawline with his thumb. ‘Yeah, I know how you feel,’ he confirmed. ‘Damn, it’s good to see you. I thought you looked so different when I first saw you outside, but you’re just the same.’

Alex grimaced. ‘Hardly!’ she denied, her hand creeping up to touch her white hair.

‘It suits you. And your eyes are the same, and your smile. And your humour. Hell, it feels weird, sitting here, kissing and talking like we’ve never been apart.’ A shadow crossed his gaze, reminding her of the pain of their parting. ‘Yet it’s well over thirty years. Where the hell has the time gone?’

Alex shrugged. ‘We’ve both been busy I suppose. You’ve shared your music with the world. We’ve both been married and had children. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I swear time speeds up. It seems like there are never enough hours to do everything you’re supposed to do.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Speaking of which, I need to be back at the church for a wedding rehearsal soon,’ she sighed regretfully. She usually enjoyed this aspect of her work, but today she wanted to spend some precious time with her unexpected guest.

‘A wedding?’ he asked. ‘Yours?’

‘Goodness, no! Didn’t Katie tell you what I do? I’ll be officiating tomorrow. I’m the village priest.’ She still found it a surprise sometimes that God had called her to such a responsibility.

Johnson shook his head. ‘No. She said something about a family business,’

‘That’s her little joke, I’m afraid. David was the curate – a priest-in-training – in my grandparents’ church when I met him. After he took on the parish here I began to explore my vocation. In his last years he was priest-in-charge and I was the curate. Now it’s just me.’

Alex watched the shock wash over him, registering first as a blank look, followed by a slight shake of his head as his mind rejected the idea, then the inevitable withdrawal as reality set in. He sat straighter in his chair, effectively pulling away from her. She was suddenly out of bounds. She had seen it all before. Not in the same context of course. She didn’t make a habit of kissing men. As both a priest and a widow, she had a reputation to maintain. But she knew from experience that a man could be perfectly friendly with her one minute, and then backing off and shutting her behind a fence as soon as they knew her occupation. She assumed that they either thought she would be trying to convert them, or that she shouldn’t be mixing with members of the opposite sex.

‘It’s all right,’ she sighed. ‘It’s not catching. You don’t have to worry.’

‘About what? I thought you just said you were a priest. Are you sick?’

She smiled as he leaned forward again unconsciously searching her face for signs of illness.

‘Some people think so, but no. I’m perfectly healthy. Just a little tired of getting the same reaction every time I tell someone my job. I’m still a woman, you know.’

‘I thought you were supposed to wear some sort of uniform.’

She reached into her pocket, extracted a thin white plastic strip and inserted it into both ends of her mandarin collar.

‘There you go. One authentic dog collar. Do I look the part now?

‘I guess. I thought you had to wear black.’

She looked down at her lemon blouse.

‘Not any more. The only colour I can’t wear is purple. That’s reserved for bishops. Oh, and red might upset the Roman Catholics.’

‘Don’t priests have to take a vow of chastity?’

‘Not in the Church of England.’

‘So you and me could have a wild time and it wouldn’t get you into trouble?’

‘Oh, it could get me into trouble all right. And I doubt if the Bishop would be very impressed either,’ she laughed. With another sigh, she raised a hand to his cheek, smiling into his eyes. Johnson nuzzled her palm, turning his head slightly to kiss it. Alex felt the heat of his warm breath flow through her body, making her shiver with need. It had been so long since she had experienced a tender moment like this. Unsure what to do, she moved her hand away.

‘I’m a normal woman with a very special job. If you were considering such a proposition, you need to think it through carefully.’

‘Can we at least be friends? You were my best friend once.’

‘Of course …’

‘This is where the “but” comes in, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘OK, so sock it to me. What’s the “but”?’

‘There are several actually. We haven’t seen each other for …’

‘Nearly forty years.’

‘Right. Oh Lord, that sounds so long, doesn’t it? Forty years. OK. So how on earth have we managed to slip into …’

‘The same old ways?’ he asked, a thoughtful look on his beautiful face.

‘Yes, that’s it. That’s it exactly. We’ve slipped into the same old way we used to be. I can’t believe it’s been so easy. Especially after …’ She faltered, remembered pain surging up momentarily before she pushed it away.

‘After the way we split?’

‘Yes. I thought I’d never be able to face you again without dying of the hurt. But it hasn’t been like that. It’s wonderful to see you.’

‘Maybe we needed to wait this long before it could be like this.’

‘Perhaps,’ she agreed. ‘Do you know I’d hardly thought about you for ages, then this week a friend mentioned your tour, and Kate met you, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since.’

‘Same here. One look at Kate, and I was a kid again.’

‘I even watched a DVD of
Grease
the other night. It brought back so many memories.’

Johnson laughed. ‘I haven’t seen that movie in a long time. When I did, I spent the entire show remembering our time together – the movies, the dances, the football games, the fun we had. Do you remember learning those stupid dance steps, Sandy?’

‘You’ll have to tell Katie about that – she doesn’t believe I’m capable of dancing. David had two left feet, so I haven’t done much over the years.’

Johnson was silent for a moment. ‘I never said earlier. I’m sorry for your loss. Kate said you were very happy with her dad.’

She nodded, a sad smile lighting her face. ‘We were. He was a lovely man. I miss him.’

Johnson swallowed, feeling like a heel to resent a dead man. But his young heart had dreamed of a life with Sandy, only to lose her. The unknown David had had the life he had wanted with the girl he had wanted. But he was glad that she had been happy. Alex glanced up at the kitchen clock. Time was moving too fast. ‘I really do have to go soon, but I shouldn’t be more than an hour. Can you wait here?’

Johnson followed her gaze to the clock on the wall and bit back a curse. He shook his head. ‘Sorry, honey. I’ve got a car coming – we’re heading North tonight.’

Disappointment threatened to bring tears to her eyes, but she swallowed hard and blinked them away. She had known when he arrived it would be but a fleeting visit. She just wasn’t ready to let him go again yet.