Page 43 of The House on Sunset Lake

‘Most likely to get married,’ he said, raising a brow.

‘Sorry if the thought of it is so hideous.’ She laughed, trying to deflect the tension, telling herself that they were just having fun, just teasing each other.

‘It’s not, actually.’ He said it so matter-of-factly, without embarrassment. ‘In fact we should make a pact, right here, right now. If we get to forty and neither one of us is married, we should, you know. Do it.’

‘Do what?’

‘Get married.’

She looked away and gulped. She could feel her heart racing but told herself that it was just a joke, that the suggestion didn’t really mean anything.

‘Do we have to be unmarried, or does being divorced count?’ she said, struggling to keep a lightness in her voice, struggling to hide how exciting this suggestion was to her. ‘Because you’ll be a rock star by then and on your third marriage . . .’

‘We just have to be single. Which means if you’re very lucky, you might get a window of opportunity . . .’

‘Between Playboy models?’

He didn’t take his eyes away from her.

‘You think I’m that shallow?’

‘Absolutely, you’re a man.’

He took a step towards her and her heart started to thud harder, as if a glimmer of light had presented itself on the horizon.

‘But you’ll be a famous film director by then. Running around with all these handsome young actors, won’t spare a minute for your old mate Jim Johnson, the gnarly rock star.’

‘I’ll always have time for you,’ she said with a surge of courage.

‘You’d better.’

He looked at her with those eyes that were sometimes green, sometimes grey, and she knew right then that all she wanted to do was kiss him. That all she had wanted to do all summer was kiss him.

He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and their lips were so close she could smell the light whiff of beer on his breath. The mood shifted, the air vibrated, a shiver of possibility made her whole body prickle and she knew that from nowhere had come a night that she would remember for ever.

Instinctively she closed her eyes, willing him to come even closer, but as she felt his lips brush hers, she heard a noise behind her. The sound of the front door of Casa D’Or.

Her eyes snapped open and she turned and saw her mother, back-lit in the doorway of the house.

Jennifer could almost hear the pin pricking her little bubble of happiness. Pop.

Sylvia walked to the edge of the steps.

‘I think you had better come inside,’ she said coolly, not even acknowledging Jim’s presence.

Jennifer glanced at Jim and muttered a goodbye, then ran up the steps, tripping as she reached the top. Too embar

rassed to even turn around to see if he was still watching, she disappeared inside the house.

Silence settled around the dimly lit hall.

Sylvia looked immaculate in her expensive navy dressing gown. It was made of silk and chiffon and had the effect of making her look like a formidable Hollywood star.

‘Where have you been?’ she asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

‘The beach,’ said Jennifer, looking down at her still-damp-from-the-rain shorts and T-shirt.

‘You know Connor phoned the house this evening. He wanted to know where you were and I didn’t know what to tell him.’