Second Chance - Jane Green [114]
‘Thank you.’ Holly turns the ignition on. ‘A bit of a handful but we love her.’
‘So–’ Will turns in his seat so he’s leaning back against the door, facing Holly, who feels horribly self-conscious as she drives–‘how’s everyone getting on? Any exciting bits of gossip?’
Holly barks with laughter. ‘God, Will. This is about the most dramatic gathering you could ever imagine. First, you have to swear not to tell anyone. If you’re staying, I should fill you in on everything.’
‘I swear,’ he says solemnly, placing his hand over his heart, and Holly tells him the whole story.
‘Tea?’ Will hollers up from the kitchen and the gang gratefully lay down their tools and come, one by one, into the kitchen, to be met with a tray of steaming mugs and chocolate digestives.
Anna looks at the tea, then at Will admiringly. ‘You are really good,’ she says. ‘Any chance you would be interested in being a second husband?’
‘Not the slightest bit interested even in being your first husband, thank you,’ Will says, looking aghast when Paul shouts with laughter. ‘Sorry.’ He backtracks furiously. ‘I didn’t mean that to come out the way it sounded. Not because of you, it’s just that marriage isn’t my bag.’
Holly hears this and turns away quickly, busying herself with getting more milk from the fridge. She feels uncomfortable hearing him say marriage isn’t his bag, which is absurd. What was she expecting? That he would say he’s desperate to get married, and his idea of the perfect woman is Holly?
And more to the point, why is she even thinking about it? She’s not out of her own marriage, and already she’s looking to the next? Ridiculous, she shakes her head with a grimace. Don’t be so childish, she tells herself. A vision floats into her mind of herself sitting at the kitchen table, doodling. Holly Fitzgerald, Mrs Will Fitzgerald. She shudders at the stupidity of it all, at how this obsession that she no longer seems to be able to pretend isn’t real, is turning her into a teenager.
There is no doubt about it being an obsession. There is no doubt that she has allowed herself to give in to it, to focus on Will instead of on her own unhappiness. To think only of him, to dream the dreams that have been lingering on the outer edges of her subconscious for months now.
The handful of times that she allowed herself to close her eyes and picture Will when Marcus was pounding away on top of her led to yet more guilt, and she promised herself she wouldn’t do it again.
But last night, lying in bed upstairs – the plumber had come and the defective pipe had been replaced so the house was finally warm – Holly had allowed herself to give in to the fantasies she had always been too frightened to invite in before.
She had lain in bed and thought of undressing Will. Imagined stroking his forearms, his chest. Imagined him kissing her, moving slowly down her body. She had come quickly and quietly, and had fallen deeply asleep, waking up again in the early hours, this time with a different fantasy. Could Will in fact be the right man for her? If Marcus was – as he so clearly was – the wrong one, could Will be her soulmate? Could he be the one that she is destined to be with?
Holly has never particularly believed in soulmates. Perhaps for a while, when she was a dreamy-eyed teenager, but once she met Marcus she stopped believing in them. Until now. She looks across the kitchen table at Will, who is so real and seems so very right.
‘So come on, be honest with us.’ Anna ribs Will. ‘You must get millions of passes made at you by bored horny housewives.’
Will looks slightly sheepish. ‘Not millions, but I’ve had a few.’
‘A few what? Passes made or horny housewives?’ Saffron laughs.
‘Both,’ Will says. ‘In all seriousness, though, I haven’t taken anyone up on those particular kinds of offers for a while. I had the misfortune to get caught by a husband who was supposed to be away on a business trip. His flight got cancelled so he came home.’
‘Could it be more clicheéd?’ Saffron rolls her eyes.
‘I know.’ Will laughs. ‘Wasn