Sara Foster - Come Back to Me

The prospect didn’t excite him much, particularly if this was how it made him feel. Love was awkward, vulnerable and emotional, and Mark felt he was the antithesis of all those things. And yet when he thought of Chloe, well, maybe he was more of a suppliant fool than he cared to admit.

He reached the kerb just as the cars and buses began their slow crawl forward, and tried to gain control of his feelings before he reached the office.

Chloe’s personality was what Mark thought of as understated, and that in itself spoke volumes to him. Every one seemed to like her; she was working on cases without antagonising people, yet was unafraid to assert her opinion, because she had the knack of making it sound like a point of view rather than the imposing assertion of fact that Mark went for, and it seemed to serve her just as well.

And she was very pretty, no one could deny that. He couldn’t wait to see the glamorous side of her at the ball tomorrow night. It would make a change from an array of suits in dull navy, black and grey, however well they fitted her slim frame.

He reached the double doors of the office building and tried to compose his thoughts into sharp focus on what lay ahead of him at work. No contact with Chloe, that was for sure. She’d been taken under the wing of one of the senior solicitors who worked in the family-law area that Chloe was keen on, whereas Mark was learning fast about the genteel cut and thrust of the English litigation system.

‘Morning, Mark.’

‘Oh, hi Dad.’ Mark resisted the urge to look down at his watch, hoping he was in at an acceptably early hour. Despite still living at home, Mark resisted coming to work with his father. He didn’t want to remind others that Henry was the primary reason he worked for this firm, as he felt it devalued his own standing and hard work in having got this far.

‘Busy day ahead?’ Henry Jameson peered at his son from underneath bushy eyebrows as he strode alongside him.

‘Is there any other type?’ Mark tried to joke, and watched his father smile, but without comment, making Mark feel slightly foolish for being so flippant.

They walked on in silence until they reached Mark’s office. Henry followed his son in, while Mark took off his coat and laid his briefcase down.

‘Mr Jameson?’

They turned as one to see Charlotte, the new secretary, standing by the door. She was looking at Mark but flicked a nervous smile towards Mr Jameson Senior as well on seeing him there.

‘Mr Zanuski has been on the phone already, wanting to discuss the Connell case – apparently they are missing some documentation.’

‘Okay,’ Mark said, ‘let me have the number and I’ll get onto it.’

Charlotte walked across the office and handed Mark a memo slip, then turned on her heel and left, seemingly un aware that Henry Jameson’s eyes were affixed to her shapely bottom.

Henry turned around with eyebrows once more aloft, and said, ‘What a looker.’

Mark smiled. There was no denying Charlotte was stunning, and by now he was used to his father’s comments on the aesthetic merits of the opposite sex.

‘Taking Chloe on Saturday?’ Henry asked.

‘Sorry? Oh, yes,’ Mark replied, looking down at the memo slip, already running through the forthcoming phone conversation in his head.

Henry nodded, looked like he was about to say something, then changed his mind. ‘Okay, well, I’ll see you later,’ he said. ‘I’m in meetings all day today.’

Mark nodded absent-mindedly, and when he looked up a moment later Henry had already gone.

When Chloe peeped around the door of his office at lunchtime, Mark’s head was still buried in his work.

‘Want me to bring you anything?’ she asked.

Mark looked up and smiled, trying to quell the surge of pleasure in his chest at seeing her.

‘If you’ve got time?’ he asked.

‘Of course, what would you like?’

She was back with sandwiches fifteen minutes later, and came and sat opposite him without being invited, opening her own paper bag and pulling out a roll. Mark normally didn’t like unagreed-to interruptions, but he couldn’t be annoyed at her when she smiled at him like that.

‘How are you getting on?’ she asked between bites, nodding towards his desk.

Mark blew out his breath and looked briefly at the ceiling then back at Chloe. ‘There’s a lot to do.’

‘Sorry,’ she said, wrapping the paper bag around the roll and making to get up, ‘I should let you get on.’

‘No, no,’ Mark found himself saying, even though two minutes ago he’d thought exactly that. ‘Ten minutes doesn’t matter.’ He unwrapped his own sandwich, and said, ‘How’s your brother then?’ before taking a bite.

‘Okay, I think,’ Chloe answered, ‘though he’s about to cause a few ructions in the family. He wants to push Mum into giving him information about our father.’

Mark swallowed his mouthful, then said, ‘Really? And what do you think?’

‘I still think it’s best left alone, but there’s no reasoning with him – besides, who am I to stop him if it’s important to him?’

‘You might get dragged into it, though.’

‘I might well,’ she agreed, looking resigned.

They ate silently for a few moments, then Chloe said, ‘Actually, I was wondering… if you think it’s too soon just say, but my family always have a party of some kind the weekend before Christmas, and I thought maybe you might like to come… if you haven’t got any other plans.’

Mark beamed. ‘That would be great.’

‘Okay.’ Chloe smiled. ‘It’s a long drive, though, so we might have to stay a couple of nights for it to be worth it…’

‘Fine by me,’ Mark agreed. ‘However, before that we need to think about tomorrow night. Shall I pick you up?’

‘No, don’t do that,’ Chloe demurred, knowing her place was far out of his way. ‘I’ll meet you there.’ She finished the last mouthful of sandwich and scrunched the paper bag into a ball. ‘I found a dress. I hope you’ll like it.’

Mark smiled. ‘I’m sure I will.’

They grinned at one another for a moment, and Mark avoided dwelling on the sensation in his stomach as it began to churn once more.

Despite being the height of summer it was raining as they drove into Perth, the city’s skyline forming an elegant iridescent backdrop to the wide Swan River. They found parkland on the southern bank of the river and got out of their vehicle to stretch their legs, revelling in the freshness of the rain, and laughing as water trickled into their eyes and ran off their noses.

Although the weather wasn’t ideal, they couldn’t resist driving a little further to the beach – neither of them had dipped their toes into the Indian Ocean before, and they were both keen to. It didn’t take long to find Cottesloe, and they parked and ran down to the water in their shorts and T-shirts. By the time they reached the surf they were both laughing like maniacs. Alex’s fringe was pipetting drops of water into his eyes, while Amy’s long dark hair was plastered messily against her skull. Amy enthusiastically pushed Alex as though she were going to propel him right into the sea. Her face was flushed and her nose was smattered with freckles. She looked beautiful, Alex thought as he watched her. She had no hope of beating him, though, and in one swift movement he had caught her up into his arms and run into the water until it was past his knees, and she was half-pretending to scream as he did a count to three, bobbing her up and down as though getting ready to release her. ‘No, Alex!’ she cried, squeaking, laughing, looking down at the foamy sea. On the last lift he brought her up higher, and instead of letting her go, he leaned forward and went in for a long kiss. She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck as she responded.