soon as possible, before she drove him completely insane.
‘And your father rang.’
Luke lowered the paper fractionally to stare at her. His father never phoned him. Not unless there was a genuine emergency.
‘He wanted to congratulate you on yesterday’s win. And he’s coming for lunch.’
‘He’s what ?’ Every month, Luke drove round to his dad’s house and took him out for lunch in a local pub, over which they exchanged polite inquiries: Luke about his father’s health, his dad about the horses in the yard. As far as Luke was aware, his dad was as happy with this arrangement as he was.
Fliss nodded serenely, confirming her announcement. ‘It’s fine. He said he wasn’t doing anything so I invited him round. About one o’clock.’
Luke narrowed his eyes at her. ‘ Why ?’ And what on earth had given her the idea she could invite people into his house?
She looked bewildered at the question. ‘It’s Sunday lunch.’
‘So?’
‘So it’s a time when people get together. I thought you’d like it. Your dad’s looking forward to it. Besides, your diary was empty.’
‘My diary was empty,’ he lied, enunciating each word slowly and precisely, ‘because I have to work.’
‘Oh, that’s okay,’ she replied easily. ‘I’ll cook.’
‘That’s enough!’ Luke slammed his hand down on the table so that the plates jumped. Marshmallow yowled and Fliss immediately shot him a dirty look as she bent to comfort the kitten.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘But last night…’
She gave him a swift smile. ‘And this morning.’
He growled. ‘I thought I made it clear it was a one off.’
Fliss nodded. ‘Oh, yes. Like your no more kissing rule.’
‘Not like that,’ he told her through gritted teeth. ‘You’re going home today. With the damn kitten. And that’s that.’ And then his life could return to normal. No unwanted kittens. No unexpected family invitations. No one to turn his life upside down.
It sounded incredibly dull.
She put a plate of perfectly grilled bacon and scrambled eggs in front of him. Then she pushed the toast rack towards him and took the lid off the butter dish. ‘Tomato ketchup?’
‘Just salt and pepper.’
He liked dull. Routine. His job was more than stressful enough. His home life needed to be boringly predictable. Orderly. In control.
Fliss whipped the newspaper out of his hands and pointed to the salt cellar and pepper mill in the middle of the table.
‘What about Marshmallow?’ she asked.
‘What about her?’
‘Did you speak to the vet?’
He’d forgotten all about it and Charlie hadn’t rung back. ‘Not yet. I’ll phone again after breakfast. You can go and look up train times. Use the laptop on my desk.’
It was easy to see why Luke was in such a foul mood this morning. Fliss knew perfectly well that one fabulous night together hadn’t been nearly enough for either of them. But for some idiotic reason Luke had got it into his head that she had to leave and now he was behaving like a bear with a sore head about it.
She passed Luke’s chair on her way out of the kitchen and, on impulse, dropped a kiss on his forehead. He smelled of the stables, but Fliss was surprised to find that she liked it better than any manufactured cologne. Luke was a real man, with a real job that involved getting his hands dirty. He might be a posh boy but he had his feet firmly on the ground.
It was just a shame that he was so determined to get her out of his house.
Not that she was looking for long-term commitment. She’d learned long ago that men couldn’t be trusted to stick around and she knew enough not to let herself be heartbroken when a relationship came to its inevitable end. No
Learning to Kill: Stories