Page 82 of The Honeymoon Affair

The reaction to my news at work is far more satisfactory. I get a group hug from the team, and all the girls want to try on the opal ring, even though I tell them it’s not my real ring.

‘It’s so romantic,’ says Natasha. ‘I never thought you’d bounce back from Steve like this.’

‘Neither did I,’ I say as I replace the ring on my finger. ‘But there you go. When you’re not looking for love, you find it.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ Natasha, who’s been through a recent break-up herself, gives me a wry smile.

‘You’ll find the right person,’ I assure her, even as I remember her saying exactly the same to me when we were in the pub and I was sobbing into a glass of Heineken.

‘In the meantime . . .’ She picks up the walkie-talkie that’s crackling with Ken’s voice. ‘The ship is in. We’d better get down there.’

I pull on my anorak and hi-vis jacket and we hurry out of the building and into one of the cars. It’s a long enough trek from the building to the dock, so the cars are essential. I’m checking the foot passengers this evening. We got an alert about one of them, and when he walks through, Ken and I bring him to one side. The other passengers give us curious glances but carry on to collect their baggage. The passenger we’ve tagged is very relaxed and answers all our questions without any issues. We’ve no reason to detain him, and as the shuttle bus to the city will be leaving shortly, I tell him he can go.

My day-to-day life is very different to champagne receptions in grand houses, I think. But very soon I’ll be living in a grand house myself. I’ll have to talk to Charles about redecorating. Gorgeous as it is, I want to feel like Riverside Lodge is our home and not his home with the agent-slash-ex. I’m sure he’ll agree.

Minor details, I say to myself as I get back into the car and return to the customs building. The important thing is that I’ve never been happier in my life.

I’m home by 7.30 and Charles arrives half an hour later. I hear the gate creak open and his footsteps on the path before the security light comes on. I’m at the door before he rings the bell.

‘Eager,’ he says as he puts his arms around me and kisses me.

‘Very.’ I kiss him back.

The kissing lasts quite some time before we make it to the living room, where he takes off his heavy wool coat.

‘It’s bloody freezing out,’ he remarks as he drapes it over a chair. ‘This is the coldest winter I can remember.’

‘Ooh!’ I smile at him. ‘The opening sentence to Winter’s Heartbreak.’

‘You recognise it.’ He looks pleased.

‘Of course I do.’

He sits in the armchair nearest the gas fire and holds out his hands to the flames. I tell him that I’ll make some tea, and he raises an eyebrow and tells me to take the bottle of wine out of his coat pocket. It’s another red I’m not familiar with, and I’m betting it’s expensive. Also, there’s a cork. I rummage around in the kitchen drawer looking for the corkscrew. I use it so infrequently that it’s always hidden beneath other bits and pieces. But eventually I find it and uncork the bottle. I’m quite pleased that I manage to do this efficiently, as I’m so out of practice. I take the IKEA glasses from the cupboard and pour us both a generous measure.

‘I probably should’ve brought champagne,’ says Charles. ‘So we could celebrate again.’

‘I drank too much champagne last night,’ I say. ‘And I’m only having one glass of this. My poor liver has been put through the mill these last few weeks.’

‘Mine too,’ admits Charles. ‘I’ll cut back a bit soon, but not yet. January is far too long a month to survive without a decent glass of wine.’

I nod in agreement and take a sip. It’s very good.

‘So.’ He settles back. ‘Have you announced the news to your friends and family?’

‘I told my mum,’ I reply. ‘She’s a bit shocked.’

‘Not surprising,’ he says. ‘She’ll get used to the idea.’

‘Of course.’

‘It was fun to make it a thing at the party,’ he says. ‘There are one or two pieces on social media about it.’

‘Have you suddenly become social media savvy?’ I grin.

‘No, but I did check for mentions,’ he says. ‘Everyone was very kind, which is nice, and it’s good PR for A Caribbean Calypso too.’

‘Tell me you didn’t ask me to marry you so people would talk about your book?’ I’m not sure if my question is serious or not.