
More Than Everything

by

Delphie Gray
Copyright © 2017 Delphie Gray

The moral right of Delphie Gray to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or

mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing form the publisher.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Visit the author's website at www.delphiegray.com.
You know who you are. All my love x
**Chapter One**

It was only 10 o'clock and already the heat was rising up from the sticky pavement. There was that unmistakeable smell of an urban summer - warming tarmac, car fumes and a faint undercurrent of wee from the late night drinkers caught short on their way home. Liv picked her way carefully around the bags of restaurant rubbish spilling out across her path. The foxes had been out in the night and onion skins, carrot peelings and chewed paper napkins were littered everywhere. She joined the gaggle of people waiting to cross the road. The lights, as usual, took ages to change and Liv checked the time again. Only 20 minutes until her shift started and she needed to get a ridiculously strong coffee first. She hadn't slept all night, replaying every single answer to every single question she'd been asked at the interview the day before. Plus, with a double shift today, she wouldn't get to sit down properly again until she fell onto her bed sometime after midnight. She needed all the caffeine and rest she could get. When the lights changed, Liv dodged the slow coaches in front of her and sprinted into Pret a Manger.

A couple of minutes later Liv slid onto a high seat in the window and popped the plastic lid off her giant, steaming, black Americano with an extra shot. She stirred it with her little wooden stick and blew on it as hard as she could to cool it down. The temperature of the coffee, which, judging from the bloom of steam quickly spreading across her face, wasn't far off molten lava. Healthy and safety would probably be all over it but she was determined to get some inside her before she started work. She almost lost the whole lot a minute later when someone jostled the back of her chair. Liv steadied the huge wobbling cup and snapped her head round to give the culprit her best death stare. It was totally wasted. The culprit, a tall, scruffy guy, was grappling with a mountain of things. He had a computer bag in one hand and a loaded tray in the other. A huge backpack hung in the crook of the arm carrying the tray. Liv could see that he was struggling to put down his tray without the backpack slipping down his arm and knocking it over. If he'd at least apologised for knocking her chair and she'd been in a better mood, Liv might have offered to help. As it was, she watched out of the corner of her eye as his brain tried to work how to manoeuvre three unwieldy things with only two hands.

It struck her that his stuff looked so clean and expensive – she couldn't help noticing 'Tom Ford' discreetly stamped on the leather laptop bag and backpack – but he looked like a tramp. He had a grubby, light blue trucker's cap pulled down low and messy blonde surfer hair spilled out underneath it, hiding most of his face. What Liv could see of his face was covered in one of those silly hipster beards that made him look like a Victorian wrestler. His nose, the only feature not covered by bushy hair or a dirty hat, was strangely elegant - long, straight and with a very neat upturn at the end. It was the nose of a Disney prince on the head of a bin man.

When his tray safely made contact with the bar, Liv turned back to her coffee. In the air conditioned café she could still see the steam rising off it. She took a tiny, cautious sip and yes, it was still as hot as liquid rock. Sighing, she leaned forward again to blow on it. From the horrible scrape of his chair, Liv saw that Trucker Cap had plonked himself down in the seat next to her. He was trying to shrug off his battered old biker jacket. He stretched his arms out behind him to shake it off but his arms got caught in the sleeves. She had no idea why he didn't just get up and take it off like a normal person. Or even better, why he hadn't taken it off before he'd sat down. Trucker Cap had one final, frustrated shake of his arms. The leather of his jacket cracked like a whip as he flapped it down hard, hard enough to catch the very tip of Liv's elbow. In one of those slow-motion moments, she saw her hand wobble on her cup. Then she saw the cup wobble a fraction. It was only a tiny wobble but enough to send a ripple across the surface of her coffee. The ripple hit the edge of the cup and a wave of scalding liquid surged out onto her hand. Liv shrieked and let go of the cup. She instinctively pulled her hand up and held it against her chest. Then the cup went over and in an instant a waterfall of coffee landed in her lap. The second the it hit her lap, she sprung up and pushed herself away from the counter but it was too late. The coffee quickly spread through the fabric of her skirt and blouse. She desperately tried to pull the wet blouse away from her skin, pinching the fabric between her fingers and trying to shake the coffee out, but it clung to her. A second later she was showered with more liquid. This time it was freezing cold. She looked up, trying to work out what the hell was going on. One minute she was being burned and the next she was being doused in freezing water like a fashion editor in an expensive Austrian spa. She saw Trucker Cap was spraying her with a bottle of mineral water. He sprayed a steady stream all over her stomach, chest and legs. When the bottle was empty, he picked up another, ripped the sports cap off with his teeth and started dousing her again.

'What the fuck are you doing?' Liv yelled, now half burnt and half frozen.

'You're meant to treat burns with cold water,' he said calmly, looking at her as if she were mad for asking.

A girl in a staff uniform appeared next to him. 'Quick,' she said grabbing Liv by the elbow. 'Let's go out the back and get your clothes off.'

'Thanks,' Liv said, grateful that someone sane was trying to help her. 'Just let me get my bag.' That's when she turned and saw her phone. Her iPhone was sitting in a pool of black coffee and water. She snatched it up and frantically pressed the home button but the screen was blank. Nothing. She shook it and sludgy water poured out of the charging port. She glared at Trucker Cap. 'Fuck,' she yelled. 'You've ruined my phone.'

He looked at her and shrugged.

'Come on,' said the girl. 'Maybe we can dry that out too.' She steered Liv away and shouldered her way through a door marked 'staff only' into an industrial-looking corridor. 'There's the loos,' she said pointing to another door. 'You take off your blouse in there while I grab the first aid kit and a spare t-shirt. My name's Naomi, by the way.' She smiled and then ducked through some double doors into the kitchen.

In the loos, Liv caught sight of herself in the long mirror on the wall. Her pristine, white blouse was now a filthy, muddy colour. It clung to her skin and you could clearly see her pink bra through it. Her full, black skirt was plastered to her legs too. Watery coffee was dripping from the hem and collecting round her feet. With shaky hands, she fumbled with the zip on her skirt and managed to peel it off her legs and step out of it. She was struggling with the buttons on her blouse when Naomi burst in carrying a big green first aid kit and a stack of tea towels. Liv noticed how young she was, probably just 18 or 19, with a cute little Louise Brooks bob dyed jet black. The cuteness was broken by the thick silver hoop through her septum.

'Shit,' she said looking at Liv's stomach. 'That looks really red.'

She was right. Liv looked in the mirror and saw a huge raised, red patch stretching from just below her bra all the way over her stomach to the tops of her legs.

'Jesus,' Liv whispered. 'I'm burnt.'

Naomi quickly turned on the cold tap and drenched a tea towel in water. She wrung it out and then pressed it lightly against Liv's stomach. The cold towel felt lovely on Liv's tight, scalded skin. Another girl burst in carrying a chair and a can of drink.

'Fuck, that looks sore,' said the second girl, another teenager with more cool hair and facial piercings. 'Here, sit down and drink this. It's sugary. That's meant to be good, right?' She ripped the pull tab back, handed Liv the can and dashed back out.

Liv sat down and lifted the can to her mouth with jittery hands. She wasn't sure if she was cold from the freezing water or in shock. 'Just tell me when the tea towel starts to warm up and I'll swap it for another one,' said Naomi over her shoulder as she dunked towels in the sink.

There was silence for a few minutes as Liv drank the fizzy orange and Naomi prepped the towels.

'Don't you need to get back to work?' Liv asked, worried that she was getting Naomi into trouble with her boss.

'Nah,' Naomi smiled. 'Don't worry about it. The manager's cool and besides, they don't want you to sue them! How does it feel now?'

'A bit better thanks,' she said, swapping the old tea towel for a new one.

'I can't believe that guy,' said Naomi, as she rinsed out Liv's skirt in the sink and took it over to the hand dryer. 'He's just run off and left all his stuff behind. He didn't even say sorry to you.'

'I know,' replied Liv. 'He was such an arse.'

'He's been in a few times this week and he does exactly the same thing every time,' Naomi yelled over the vicious blast of the hand dryer. 'He spreads all his stuff out in the window seat and then hogs it all day. He radiates 'fuck off' through his back so you can't even go and collect all the cups and plates he's got stacked up. It's usually the homeless guys who do that but from all his gadgets and stuff, I'm guessing he can afford somewhere to live. Most homeless guys don't have a Patek Philippe watch.'

The mention of the watch made Liv suddenly remember the time. 'Shit,' she hissed, standing up. 'What time is it?'

Naomi slid her phone out of her pocket. 'Ten past 11.' Seeing the panic on Liv's face, she held out her phone. 'Do you want to borrow my phone to call someone?'

Liv was late for her shift but, worse than that, much, much worse than that, was the fact that the university might have rung with their decision and her phone was dead. Liv's mind raced through the next logical, panicky steps. They might call her home number. India wouldn't answer. India never bloody answered. When she was painting India happily ignored phones, the front door bell and most irritatingly of all, actual humans standing right in front of her asking simple yes/no questions. If the university didn't get an answer, Liv would end up playing phone tag for days before she finally found out what they'd decided. And she couldn't wait that long. She'd have to ask Kate or Tim to sit and wait for the call.

Calls made, Liv handed the phone back. 'Thanks for all your help,' she said, itching to get home all of a sudden. 'I really appreciate it. I'm sure my stomach will be ok. It just looks worse than it feels.' She wasn't being entirely honest – her skin still felt hot and tight.

Naomi handed her a Pret t-shirt and a pair of standard issue black trousers with an apologetic shrug. 'It's all we've got, sorry.'

Liv quickly pulled on the t-shirt and just the cotton brushing against her skin made her wince.

'Let me at least tape some gauze over it otherwise the t-shirt might rub it and make it worse,' said Naomi.

When she was finally dressed, they went back outside. Naomi went to fish out Liv's bag out from under the counter by the tills.

'There's something else for her under there,' said the girl who'd come in earlier with the chair. 'From the weird guy with the cap. He said I had to give it to you before you left.'

Naomi rooted around and found a small Vodafone carrier bag. Liv took it and they both peered inside. There was a business card taped to top of a familiar, white, rectangular box. Liv peeled off the thick card. On the front there was just a name, a number and an email address. Benedict Cassel, Cassel Enterprises. No logo, no website – very minimal, tasteful and, judging from the smooth, heavy card, expensive. She flipped it over and saw he'd scrawled a message on the back in scratchy writing.

This one is charged up and your sim's in there already. BC

Inside the smooth white box was a brand new iPhone X. Liv pressed the home button and the screen lit up. She took it out of the box and swiped her finger across it. All her contacts, texts and photos were already there. She wasn't sure whether to be freaked out or impressed.
Chapter Two

When Liv got home, Kate burst out of the front door before she'd even had time to put her key into the lock.

'Olivia,' she said breathlessly, 'no news here yet.'

India appeared next to her. 'Judging by her t-shirt, I'm guessing she didn't get the grant, Mum,' she said, turning to Liv with a smirk. 'Got another job already?'

'I need to get changed and then I'll tell you all about it.' Liv brushed past them into the flat. They followed her to her bedroom and stood in the doorway while she stripped off her borrowed uniform.

'Before you ask, someone dropped some coffee on me,' she explained, seeing their faces when she pulled the t-shirt over her head. 'It's not too bad. The gauze is just there to stop my clothes rubbing against my skin.' She pulled on her cut-offs and the softest, loosest t-shirt she could find in the jumbled heap of clothes on her bedside chair.

They followed her into the living, where she sank into the squashy old sofa with a sigh. She felt shattered, like she'd aged a few years since this morning. India pushed open the door to the garden and sat on the threshold. She pulled her pouch of tobacco out of the front pocket of her paint splattered dungarees. Kate tutted, as she usually did when India smoked, and then settled down into an armchair. She laced her fingers together and let her hands drop into her lap. Then she gave Liv a small nod as if to say 'go on'. The suspense was clearly killing her.

'For God's sake, Liv,' said India, tipping her head back and blowing out smoke. 'Just tell her. She's been down for the last hour doing my head in.'

'India, darling, I've been here at Olivia's request.'

'I don't think Liv asked you to wash my pants and empty the bins,' India shot back. 'If I'm not mistaken, she asked you to sit by the phone.'

'She did,' Kate huffed in her own defence, 'but once I'd sat down I couldn't help but notice the absolute carnage on your bedroom floor. And the kitchen bin was overflowing. It's really not hygienic in this weather. How you girls don't notice, I'll never know. Anyway,' she sniffed, 'it kept my mind off waiting for the phone call.'

India and Kate could go on like this all day if you didn't cut in. When they were together, India just couldn't help being a narky teenager and Kate couldn't help being an underappreciated mother despite her best attempts to be zen-like at all times. Liv was never in Kate's line of fire. Though Liv had lived with them for over ten years now, ever since her parents had moved back to Italy, Kate held back. For one thing, she didn't want to step on Liv's own mother's toes. And then there was Charlotte. Kate's oldest daughter was easily upset when it came to Liv, who she saw as the cuckoo in her parents' nest. Any hint that Kate treated Liv just like one of her own children made Charlotte furious. Unlike India and their brother Rufus, Charlotte could be jealous and spiteful.

'So,' Liv stepped in, steering the conversation back to less tricky territory, 'there is some news.' She paused for effect. 'I got it!'

India jumped up from the back door and ran to give her a hug.

'I knew it!' she said, her warm breath all smoky on Liv's neck. 'There's no way those fuckers would turn you down.'

Kate got up and waited for India to let go of Liv. Her eyes were shining with pride. She came and sat next Liv, taking her hands in hers.

'Oh fuck,' sighed India, rolling her eyes, 'we're going to get the full Claire now.' This was family shorthand for the tearful performance that Claire Danes perfected in Homeland. Kate was famous for it. Every Christmas and anytime they had a celebration, Kate would stand up and give a speech about how important this moment was. Everyone else would moan loudly and sometimes throw a napkin or paper plane at her if she went on for too long. Last Christmas Rufus raised the bar by flying a remote-control helicopter round her head.

'India,' hissed her mother. 'Liv has achieved something incredible and it should duly be noted and celebrated. It is not every day that one gets a grant for a postdoctoral research project about something as important as suicide in young men.'

'No this doesn't happen to one every day,' mocked India in a plummy voice. 'Perhaps only once a year, like the Glyndebourne or Glorious Goodwood. But don't mind me, Claire, carry on.'

Kate sniffed and then turned back to Liv. 'Olivia, I have watched you study diligently from the first time you came home with India for supper,' she said, with a slight catch in her voice. 'India would eat and then hide away in her room to talk about things that teenage girls talk about. You always had your eye on the clock and knew that you had to leave enough time to do all your homework properly. You had a drive that was something that India could have frankly tried to emulate with more conviction. You would come down and sit at our kitchen table and do your homework. You would always ask me to check it once you'd finished. Again, India...'

'Yes, blah, blah, blah, Katherine,' India broke in, tired of hearing the same old speech about her total lack of interest in school. 'Yes, I know I did no work. Yes, I know Liv is a bloody genius but look at me now! I'm a penniless painter living in the granny flat at my parents' house. My mother still cleans my pants. I'm living the dream!' She threw her head back and laughed her Dr Evil laugh.

It was lucky that Liv knew it was only a joke. There was no malice behind it. Unlike their big sister, India and Rufus didn't have one jealous, mean-spirited bone in their bodies. India and Liv always supported each other even though their talents were totally different. India was a typical creative, dreamy right brainer and Liv was a typical analytical, pragmatic left brainer. India accepted who she was and let everyone else get on with the business of being who they were. Unlike prickly Charlotte, who was so different to the rest of her family that Liv always thought she must have been swapped at birth. With Pol Pot's daughter.

'I knew then,' said Kate smoothly, ignoring the interruption, 'that you would go far with that depth of commitment. And you have. And we should celebrate!'

'Yes!' India chipped in, 'let's go out and get trashed.'

'I had a meal and some champagne with the family in mind,' said Kate, still ignoring India. 'And then you are free to do whatever you like.' She got up and said to Liv: 'Will Jamie's Italian be ok? Shall we book for 7?'

Liv smiled and nodded. Kate knew Liv loved Jamie's Italian and would choose it over any other restaurant. The menu was a much more sophisticated version of the food she ate growing up.

With a quick aperitif pencilled in for 6.30 upstairs, Kate left.

'Wow, Liv,' said India, as she sat rolling another cigarette on the lip of the back door. 'You got your money. How amazing is that?'

'I know,' Liv said. 'I can't quite believe it.'

'Believe it. You're a bloody genius and your project is seriously worthy. Who's going to say no to research into why men kill themselves? Anyway,' she said, blowing smoke rings into the garden, 'is your stomach ok?'

'I'm not sure,' Liv said honestly. 'I'll have a look.' She lifted her t-shirt and pulled back the top corner of the dressing.

India came over to have a look.

'Shit, that looks sore,' she said, sucking air through her teeth. 'You might need to get that looked at.'

'Nah,' Liv said, dismissing the idea with the flap of her hand, 'it'll be fine in a day or two and if it's not, then I'll go to the doctor's.'

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Liv enjoying her success and India enjoying another cheeky fag. The only sounds were the lawn mower in next door's garden and the distant screams of kids in the playground at the school round the corner. They were both jolted out of their daydreams by some buzzing. Liv scrabbled around in the cushions on the sofa before finding the source of the strange noise. The phone.

'Is that new?' said India.

'Yeah but I'm not keeping' Liv said, fiddling with the locked screen.

'Why not?' said India. 'Don't you like it?'

Liv turned the phone over in her hands, feeling its weight and the cool smoothness of the metal. It was a definite improvement on her old iPhone 5 with its cracked screen and tatty Hello Kitty stickers her niece had plastered all over it.

'That's not the problem,' she explained. 'I like the phone, it's just that a weird guy gave it to me. I went into Pret for some breakfast before my shift this morning and this unbelievably arrogant guy sat down next to me. He knocked my boiling hot coffee all over me and didn't say sorry or anything. I went off to clean myself up and when I came back he'd left this phone for me. It had all my contacts on it already.'

'God, that's weird,' said India, with a fag clamped in one side of her mouth and talking out of the other. She took the phone to have a look. 'I'd still keep the phone though. He deserves it for being an arse.'

'I checked online and this thing costs £700,' Liv answered. 'I can't take £700 off a stranger, even if he did chuck a giant Americano all over me. It feels wrong.'

'Look,' said India, 'if he can afford to spend £700 on a stranger, he's probably got loads of money.'

'Doesn't mean I should take it though.'

'God, you and your Catholic guilt,' India tutted through her teeth. 'Even if you do want to give it back, how would you find him?'

Liv got up and went to find the Vodafone carrier bag. She fished out the business card and handed it to India.

'It's got his address on it,' Liv said. 'He lives just up the road.'

'Shit,' shouted India, jumping up from her spot in the door way. 'It's only fuckingBenedict fucking Cassel.'

She pronounced Cassel with a French accent, drawing the last syllable into a long 'elle'.

'Who's fucking Benedict fucking Cassel?' Liv asked. India never knew who anyone was. She had a terrible memory for names and, strangely for an artist, she wasn't much better with faces.

'Benedict went to Clifton College,' she said, breathlessly pacing up and down in front of the sofa with excitement. 'He was a couple of years above Ruf. He was one of those moody, intense types who everyone lusted over. You know, all floppy fringe and lots of sitting on walls looking disaffected. As far as I know he never actually went out with anyone. Charlotte absolutely fucking adored him, well, as much as Charlotte can adore anyone. Her and her friends practically stalked the guy.'

'Wow,' Liv said. 'He hasn't changed much then. He's still intense and moody.'

'What did he look like?' India asked, plonking herself down on the sofa next to Liv. She was desperate for details.

'Well, it was hard to tell,' Liv said truthfully. 'He was wearing a trucker's cap and he had one of those stupid bushy beards. He was tall, though, with blondish hair. He did a lot of stomping around.'

'God, that sounds like him,' giggled India. 'Wait till I tell Charlotte! She'll go fucking ape.'

'You will not tell Charlotte!' Liv said quickly. 'First of all, there's nothing to tell. And second of all, you know she doesn't like me. It's easier if we just all pretend I don't exist.'

'Yeah, maybe,' said India, sounding a little deflated. 'Could I come with you when you give it back though? Just so I can see what he looks like.'

'Sure,' Liv answered, happy that she'd have some company in case he was actually at home when she dropped the phone off. 'I'm going to do it before we go out for dinner. I want to give it back as soon as I can. I'll have a shower and then we can walk up there.' India clapped her hands and let out a little excited squeak.

'God, Benedict Cassel. He was so hot. I was only about 10 or 11 at the time but even I knew he was hot. He looked like that bloke whatshername, you know, the actress in the orange bikini in the Bond film, used to go out with. He's all sexy brooding and jutting cheekbones.'

Liv had no idea who she was talking. She googled the 'orange bikini' and 'James Bond' and a couple of clicks later she found that Halle Berry had a killer instinct for beautiful men. Halle's ex, a Canadian model, was almost too handsome to be real. In one advert, he was leaning against a bathroom room sink with a bath towel wrapped dangerously low around his hips. His lightly tanned, washboard stomach dipped out of sight underneath the towel, which was straining over an impressive bulge. He had an intense, penetrating gaze that could drop knickers at 50 paces. If Benedict Cassel looked anything at all like this man, then she could see why he had whipped the teenage girls of Clifton into a hormonal frenzy.
Chapter Three

Benedict Cassel lived in a house called Ampfield Priory. It was tucked away behind high walls on a leafy street just a few steps away from the green, open space of the Downs. You couldn't see any of the house from the street; the walls of honey-coloured Bath stone were too high. Liv and India stopped outside the double gates and stared at the intercom.

'Go on, then,' urged India, shoving Liv closer to the buzzer. 'Press it.'

'I'm not sure,' she said stepping back. 'I could just drop the bag over the gate. I don't necessarily have to hand it back to him personally.'

'That's mad. I don't see why you can't just give it back to him. You need to explain why you're not keeping it. It would be rude not to.'

Liv was going to come back with something along the lines of her not needing to explain anything to anyone, especially someone who could tip a boiling Americano all over her and not say sorry, but she didn't. Her politeness and Catholic guilt stopped her. Even if the guy was an arse, there was no way Liv could be rude in return. It just wasn't her style.

'Look, it's almost six now and we need to get back for drinks by half past,' said India impatiently. 'Either press the bloody bell or chuck it over the sodding gate.'

Liv marched back to the intercom and took a deep breath to steady herself. She didn't want to see Benedict Cassel again but she wanted to get this over and done with.

'Oh, for God's sake!' India burst out, pushing Liv out of the way and pressing on the buzzer for what felt like far too long.

Liv gave her a swift, sharp elbow in the ribs. India gave her one back and they were busy jostling and giggling when a woman's voice surprised them.

'Yes?' she said in a very posh voice through the intercom.

'Erm, I'm here to see... I mean I've got something,' Liv mumbled, not sure what to say exactly. She looked at India for help.

'We're here to see Benedict Cassel,' barked India into the intercom. Liv glared at her and jabbed her in the chest.

'I've got something of his I'd like to give back,' Liv explained quickly. 'I don't really need to see him. I could give it to you.'

India glared and mouthed 'wuss' at her.

'And you are?' asked the woman.

'Erm, Olivia Russo.'

'And India Campbell-Blythe,' India butted in with a grin.

'I'll buzz you in,' said the woman, 'then I'll come and meet you by the front entrance.'

The gates smoothly rolled open to reveal the massive Gothic pile sitting at the end of a curved gravel drive.

'Shit,' whispered India, linking arms with Liv and crunching down the drive. 'I knew he was minted but I didn't think he was this minted.'

By anyone's standards, India's family were well off. They lived in Clifton, the most expensive and well-heeled part of Bristol. There were sweeping Georgian terraces and grand honey-coloured villas everywhere. India's own family home, where she and Liv lived in the basement flat, had five floors. Even on the top floor, where the ceilings were a lot lower than in the cavernous living room downstairs, the rooms felt enormous. When she'd moved in aged 15, Liv was dwarfed by her room. At her parents' house, a normal 1930s semi in a road of other normal 1930s semis, she'd shared a bedroom with her older sister Lucia. The room, the big front bedroom given up by her parents, was packed with furniture. There were two beds, two wardrobes and two desks with almost no floor space left in between. If she used the beds and desks as stepping stones, Liv could get from the window to the door without putting a foot on the floor. Liv's room in India's house was twice the size of that and she didn't have to share it. She could easily imagine that a teenager living in Ampfield could have their own wing, never mind their own room.

The Priory spanned over three floors and was built of light red sandstone with pale limestone details around the tall arched windows. The roof was steep and tiled in wide, alternating bands of pale and red. There was even a strange turret sticking out on the left of the house, making it look eccentrically lopsided. It had the feel of a period BBC drama about it and Liv almost expected to see Damian Lewis sweep out of the front door dressed in an ermine coat and thigh-high leather boots. This little daydream was broken by a middle-aged woman opening the front door. She was dressed in a dark blue wrap dress and nude heels, like Kate Middleton visiting a primary school. Her blonde hair was whipped up into a neat chignon and the only hint individuality came from a quirky pair of red cat-eye glasses.

'My name is Elizabeth and I am Mr Cassel's assistant,' she said, folding her arms. 'Mr Cassel said I might expect you. He mentioned something about a phone.'

'Yes, I'd like to give it back,' Liv said, holding out the bag to her. She wondered why he'd told his assistant about their little run-in. 'It was very kind of him to give it to me but I really can't keep it.'

'Ah. He thought you might say that. I am, however, under strict instructions not to accept the phone. Mr Cassel was very clear that you should keep the phone after the incident today.'

'You might as well keep it, then,' said India, gleefully grabbing the bag from Liv's hand.

'He said you should.'

'It doesn't matter what he says,' Liv said hotly, snatching the bag back from her. 'This is an expensive phone. I'm not in the habit of accepting expensive things from people I don't know, whether they pour boiling coffee over me or not.'

'As you can see, the expense really isn't an issue,' said Elizabeth, gesturing to the house behind her. 'And in any case the phone won't be returned to the shop. It will be passed on to one of his employees so your friend is right, you may as well keep it.'

Liv was just about to argue the toss on that point when the door behind Elizabeth opened again and a tall man stepped out and stood beside her. He was wearing a slim cut white shirt and was folding up one sleeve up very slowly and methodically, each straight fold revealing a bit more of his tanned muscular forearm. He stopped just below his elbow and then switched to the other sleeve, being just as precise and unhurried with that one too. All three women watched in a mesmerised silence until India elbowed Liv and giggled.

'Ah, Mr Cassel,' said Elizabeth with some relief. She'd clearly had enough of dealing with the situation. 'I was just trying to convince Miss Russo to accept your gift but I have encountered some resistance.'

'Yes, I heard,' said Benedict Cassel staring straight at Liv. He didn't look anything like the trampy guy she'd seen earlier that morning. His hair was tousled and fell in a messy side parting. It was long enough to graze his chin at the front. At the back, it fell to his shoulders. Without the cap, his hair was darker; the ends were a bright, sun-bleached blonde but the rest was a deep caramel shade. The biggest change, though, was the absence of the wild man of the woods beard. He caught Liv peering at his face and rubbed his chin. 'You're wondering where my beard went. I've got a very important meeting tomorrow so it had to go.'

The radical shave had revealed a smooth, angular face. He had a square jaw that tapered into an equally square, and Liv thought, manly chin. His cheekbones were high and sharp. Below his perfectly straight, long nose, his top lip had a pronounced cupid's bow, while his bottom lip was fuller. His slanted, hooded eyes were a clear green. They were offset by his lightly tanned skin, which had a lovely olivey sheen to it and made him look very French. It all conspired to make him the most amazingly good looking man Liv had ever seen. India hadn't been wrong. In fact, Liv could tell by the dreamy sigh escaping next to her that India still felt the same way about Benedict as she had fifteen years ago. He was still seriously hot and if anything, had got hotter with age.

He seemed to be scrutinising Liv in the same intense way she was looking at him. He raked his hand through his hair, sweeping it back off his high forehead.

'I am incredibly sorry for my behaviour this morning,' he said without breaking his gaze. 'I was very rude and should have apologised on the spot but...'

'Yes, you should have,' huffed India interrupting him. 'Have you seen the mark you left? It's bloody massive and looks really sore. She's got this big dressing taped all over it.'

'Mr Cassel has apologised for the incident...' Elizabeth snapped, her hackles rising in defence of her boss.

'It's alright, Elizabeth,' said Benedict, turning to look at her. 'Why don't go you home now? It's after six and you've been here all day.'

Elizabeth looked at Liv and India and then back at Benedict. 'Only if you're sure,' she said uncertainly.

'I am.' She turned around, gave Liv a quick reproving look, and disappeared back into the house.

'We need to be going soon too,' Liv said, as much to India as to Benedict. There was a moment's silence as she and Benedict sized each other up again. She heard blood rushing in her ears.

India seized her chance and jumped in. 'You probably don't remember me but I'm Rufus' little sister,' she gushed. 'Rufus Campbell-Blythe? You went to Clifton College with him. You were round our house a lot for a while.'

Benedict looked genuinely surprised. He moved his gaze to India. 'I remember Rufus. He had an older sister and a younger sister. I'm guessing you're India?'

India looked beyond thrilled that he'd not only remembered that Rufus had sisters, but he'd actually remembered her name. She blushed dramatically, her pale, almost translucent skin flushing a deep pink. It matched the mass of pink curls she had twisted into a messy knot on her head. Liv imagined a ten-year-old India blushing in much same way. She was probably wearing dungarees back then too.

'You remember my mum and dad, don't you?', said India, in a slightly higher voice than normal. 'We're just going round for drinks if you'd like to come with us. They'd be stoked to see you again. Ruf will be there too.'

Liv cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows at India.

'That's very kind of you but I feel I'd be intruding,' said Benedict. He hadn't missed the Liv's none too subtle signals. 'It sounds like it's a family thing.'

'We're celebrating Liv getting a grant to do her research project,' India jabbered on. 'You won't mind him coming along, will you?' She turned to Liv. Liv looked at her with wide eyes, not knowing what to say. She wanted to say 'no' but India had pretty much invited him already.

'No, that's fine with me,' she said flatly.

India squealed with delight. 'Mum and Dad will be blown away!' she squeaked. 'And Ruf too!'

'Will your older sister be there?' asked Benedict with a frown.

'No, she lives in London and she's a right kill-joy anyway. It's best that she's not there. We might all have a laugh then.'

Benedict agreed to come along for one drink only. When he excused himself to get his phone, Liv hissed at India: 'What the fuck are you doing? We were meant to come and give him back his bloody phone and now you've invited him back for drinks. Are you insane?'

'Mum would never forgive me if I told her we'd seen Benedict and not asked him to come over. Mum took him under her wing when he was a teenager and she'll be pleased to see he's doing so well.' India had a very irritating way of getting Liv to do things, usually by making her feel guilty.

'Fuck it, India,' Liv moaned. 'You always know how to get round me. And remember this is all on you. I will not be making polite conversation with him.'

'Judging by the way he's staring, polite conversation is the last thing he wants to do with you,' said India with a smirk.

Benedict came out of the house again before she'd had a chance to reply. He was holding two bottles of champagne.

'Right then, lead the way,' he said to India. 'Are you still living in Cheltenham Terrace?'

He fell into step with India and they strode off together down the drive. Liv tagged along behind, happy to be out of Benedict's line of vision. She could do with the time to work out how the man in front of her was actually the nutcase she'd met that morning. If she'd seen the bearded version in a police line-up, she would have pegged him as a minor-league drug dealer. He'd been a bit unwashed with a suspicious number of phones. The smooth, shaved version in front her could be a rogue hedge fund manager or Rupert Murdoch's long lost handsome son. Still, whichever one he really was, the view from behind wasn't too shabby. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders that tapered down to a washboard waist. Sporty guys in this part of Bristol usually had massive ham hock thighs and backsides from all the rugby. They were usually so pumped and beefy that they couldn't put their arms straight down by their sides. This guy was muscular in a way that surfers and male ballet dancers were. He had strong legs but they were perfectly in proportion.

Benedict and India made an odd couple. Benedict looked like he had stepped out from a board meeting and India looked like she had stepped out of some Seattle dive in the early 1990s. She loved the whole Kurt Cobain vibe and rocked oversize lumberjack shirts and stripy jumpers in winter and ratty old graphic t-shirts and huge oval sunglasses in the summer. She loved a pair of high waisted, light wash jeans, preferably with a million holes and rips in them. Today, as a concession to summer, she was wearing a pair of dungarees that she'd cut off to a Daisy Duke length with a sleeveless t-shirt and her usual knackered red DM boots. With her pink hair and the odd splodge of paint on her arms she looked every inch the Nirvana groupie.

Liv could hear India talking nonstop ahead. She was gesticulating madly with a roll-up in one hand. Benedict was listening – he had his head cocked towards her to catch what she was saying over the traffic noise – but he also kept an eye on Liv. As they walked down Pembroke Road he looked over his shoulder every now and then. Liv was grateful that India was entertaining him because she really had nothing to say to him. He'd thrown her a total curveball this evening. She'd been expecting to feel angry when she saw him. In her head, she'd been practising some cutting lines to tell him what she really thought of him. Instead, the sight of him made her throat (and her brain) dry up. And, if she was totally honest, other parts of her very wet.

Benedict and India stopped to cross the road. There was a bit of rush hour traffic so they had to wait for a gap to open up. Liv hung back a bit until the other two had crossed. If she kept this up, she could avoid him completely. India was monopolising him now and Kate and Tim would monopolise him when they got home. With any luck, she could drink champagne and stuff herself with olives with Daphne in the garden. Daphne, Kate and Tim's basset hound, was often her get-out clause when the family were having a personal conversation or argument that she didn't want to get involved in. Daphne gave her an excuse to get up from the table and go into the garden or, when Charlotte was home for the weekend and kicking off monumental fights, she could grab Daphne's lead and take up her to the Downs for a long walk followed by a coffee at the café by the water tower.

When they reached the house at Cheltenham Terrace, Benedict stopped by the front railings to let the ladies go in first. India rang the bell. Liv was hyper aware of Benedict standing behind her. She felt a strange physical buzz between them and it got stronger as he leant forward and whispered into her ear.

'I'd like to talk to you later.'

She felt his hair lightly brush her ear. It was like a jolt of static. She caught a rush of scents. Sun-warmed skin, the clean scent of shampoo, the minty tang of shaving foam and then a final waft of his aftershave. She could smell limes, basil and a bit of something musky and seductive.

Kate opened the door to the sight of them standing in single file in front of her. She gave India a kiss on the cheek and ushered her in. India stood beside her, bouncing on the spot with excitement. Kate then wrapped Liv a huge hug and ushered her in.

'Now, I was expecting two beautiful girls but I was not expecting this beautiful specimen,' she said. She peered at him closely. 'I am more than happy to give you both a kiss and a hug but it would be good to know who you are first.'

'Mum, you're never going to believe this,' said India. 'This is Benedict! You remember Benedict, don't you?'

'Benedict? My God, it's you, Benedict! Come here and let me see you!' Kate reached forward and pulled him forward by the hand. She examined his face with her fingers, like the blind sculptor in the Lionel Richie video. 'You were exquisite as a boy and you are quite exquisite as a man.' Then she kissed him on both cheeks and yelled 'Tim!' over her shoulder. Tim appeared from the living room with a bottle of whisky in one hand and a heavy tumbler in the other. 'Look, it's Benedict!' Tim looked at Benedict for a minute in shock. Then he put his bottle and glass down on the console table in the hallway and came and stood next to India.

'Well, bugger me. What a surprise. You look very well, my boy. How the hell are you?'

'Don't leave him on the pavement,' cried Kate. 'Let the poor boy come in.'

Benedict looked both genuinely embarrassed and a little bit pleased by the attention. He stepped inside and Tim clapped him on the back. 'It's good to see you. You know who's here, don't you? Rufus!' Tim yelled over his shoulder into the house. Rufus appeared in the kitchen door way with Daphne tagging along at his heels.

'Fuck me!' exclaimed Rufus. 'Ben, what the hell are you doing here?' He grappled Benedict into a man hug and then led him through to the living room. The others all bustled in behind them. Benedict handed Tim the champagne. Tim, a connoisseur of anything alcoholic, looked at the label and then looked up and whistled.

'Krug Clos D'Ammonay 1998,' he said with serious appreciation in his voice. 'To what do we owe this very fine honour?'

'India tells me that you're celebrating this evening and I thought I would contribute.'

'Whilst it is fabulous to see you Benedict, let us not forget the woman of the hour,' exclaimed Kate, always quick to include everyone. 'Rufus get some glasses, India get the snacks and Tim, you sort out the champagne. We need to toast Liv first of all. And then we shall toast Benedict and he can tell us how he ended up on our door step this evening after such a long and mysterious absence.'

Everyone sprang into action apart from Liv and Benedict.

'Sit,' instructed India, pointing to them as she fumbled with a remote control. 'I can never get this buggering thing to work. I'll have to wait for Rufus to come back. He's the technical wiz in this family.'

Instead of sitting down, Benedict went over and took the remote from Kate. He pressed a button and the jangly sound of Ravi Shankar streamed across the room.

'You were always a very capable boy,' Kate beamed, with more than just a hint of flirtation.

Tim, India and Rufus came back and champagne was poured and passed around. They all sat down on the low velvet sofas, with Liv wedged between India and Rufus on one. Benedict sat beside Tim on the other. Daphne came and settled by Liv's feet. They watched Kate walk over to the marble fireplace. She put her glass down on the mantelpiece and laced her hands together as if she were about to pray. Tim, Rufus, India and Liv knew what was coming. India leaned across Liv to let Benedict know what was going on.

'I'm not sure if you remember this tradition but Kate likes to kick things off with a speech. Your champagne will have gone flat by the time she finishes.' They all sniggered.

Ever the faithful husband, Tim silenced them all by clearing his throat loudly. He sat back and crossed his long legs.

'When India first brought Olivia home, at the age of 11, I saw a serious, quiet girl. She was the antithesis of India with her dark Mediterranean hair and eyes. She was incredibly polite, unassuming and, unlike India, she liked to study.' India groaned and put her head in her hands. Kate carried on regardless. 'And study she did, zipping through her GCSEs and A' Levels to gain stellar results. And then onto university where she gained a first and then a master's degree with distinction. Tim and I invited Olivia to live with us when she was 15 and so we were lucky enough to witness her transition from a hard-working schoolgirl to a distinguished scholar.' Kate's eyes started to shine and she bit her bottom lip so stop it wobbling. 'Olivia, it has been an honour to have you with us and we know how much you deserve to continue your studies with a postdoctoral project of such importance. So, let us raise our glasses to Liv.'

'To Liv' they all echoed.

Liv shrank back, embarrassed by the praise being heaped on her. India gave her an awkward side hug and Rufus put his hand over Liv's, which was resting in her lap. She waited for him to take it away but when he didn't, she slowly pulled hers out from underneath on the pretence of needing to tuck her hair behind her ear.

India glared at him and mouthed 'Stop it.'

'And now for Benedict,' Kate continued, turning to look at the stranger on the sofa. 'I have no idea how you found yourself on our doorstep alongside these two beauties. Whatever the reason, I am absolutely thrilled to see you. When you first came home with Rufus, you were the total opposite of Liv. You were sullen, curt and frankly a classic teenage pain in the arse. You would lean against the railings outside, waiting for Rufus, and chain smoke. However, over time you revealed yourself to be a very different creature altogether. Then you disappeared. And now you're here again, all grown up and devilishly handsome. So, let us raise our glasses to Benedict. Our wanderer returned.'

'To Benedict!' they all said and took another sip of champagne. Benedict nodded his thank you to Kate.

'That's bloody good champagne, Ben,' said Tim to Benedict, twirling his glass round in his fingers. 'I'm afraid it's wasted on these hooligans. They'll just knock it back like cheap supermarket lager.'

India rose to the bait. 'Yes, Benedict, my favourite tipple is Special Brew, preferably straight from the can while lying in a shop doorway. If I'm really pushing the boat out, you know, for my birthday, then I'll crack open the meths.'

'You do love a Jägerbomb though, Ind,' sniggered Rufus. 'And I've actually seen you lying in a shop doorway on Park Street after a few of those.'

Liv suppressed a laugh. On a night out to celebrate the end of their A' Levels, they'd gone out in town to celebrate and Liv had lost India on the way home. They'd started the night with a few cans of Smirnoff Ice in their bedrooms and then moved onto hideous absinthe cocktails and Jägerbombs on a crawl round some bars. As Liv was weaving her way up Park Street at 2am, she heard someone call her name. She looked around but couldn't see anyone. She put it down to Jägerbomb-induced hallucinations and was about to carry on when she heard it again. Peering around in the dark she saw the screen of a mobile light up a shop doorway. Lying there was India flat on her back. 'Help me up. My legs don't work.' It turned out her arms didn't work either. In her addled state, Liv couldn't get India up off the ground. She was like a dead weight. No amount of pulling or heaving made India move an inch however hard she tried. In the end Liv called Rufus, who turned up wearing a hoodie over his pyjamas, and helped her get India off the ground. Between them they dragged her home, her useless feet trailing behind her on the pavement. They had to stop a few times and hold her over a rubbish bin so that she could be sick. And they'd never let her forget it.

'Shut up Ruf!' India reached across Liv to give him a slap.

'Let's not get stuck down this particular sibling cul-de-sac,' said Kate. 'I want to talk to Benedict about the missing years.' She came over and squeezed herself onto the sofa beside Benedict.

India got up in search of the champagne bottle. Rufus leaned over to Liv. 'Can I have a word with you outside?' He must have seen the pained look on her face because he then said. 'Don't worry. It won't take long and I promise I won't ruin your night.'

Liv reluctantly got up and followed him out into the garden. Daphne trotted after her. The garden was quite small considering the grandness of the house. It had a neat lawn and a little raised area at the far end where Kate had her yurt. In the winter, you could close it up and light the log burner inside. In the summer, you could lift up the yurt's sides and eat at the big table in there even if it rained. Liv sat down on the lawn fairly close to the house; she didn't want to get stuck with Rufus down in the yurt. She preferred to be out in the open just in case things got tricky. Daphne came over and slumped down next to her on the grass, laying her silky, rumpled head on Liv's lap. Rufus stayed standing and leaned against the fence. When he spoke, he seemed to be looking at something in the distance.

'I wanted to let you know that I've met someone.'

Liv said nothing. She knew from bitter experience that the more she said, the longer it would take to get out of this hideously awkward conversation.

'She works at the gallery that's holding my exhibition next month.'

Liv stayed quiet, stroking Daphne's velvet soft ears. The dog started to make a noise that was halfway between a purr of pleasure and a snore.

'Aren't you going to say anything?'

Liv was careful to find the most harmless words she could. 'That's great. I'm happy for you.'

'You're happy for me?' Rufus sounded pissed off. She knew that she couldn't ever say the right thing to him when he was in this mood.

'Yes, Ruf, I want you to be happy and I know I can't give you that. If you've found someone who can make you happy and love you, then I'm pleased.'

'I would drop her in a second if you changed your mind.'

'Christ, Ruf, can we not go over this again?' The champagne had made her braver than normal. Usually she'd wait for him to give up or for India to walk in and interrupt him. Now she wasn't patient enough to wait for either of those things to happen. She'd had a long day and this was the last straw. 'I make myself clear every time you bring this up. I love you but not in the way you want me to love you. I love you more than I love my own brother. I'm eternally grateful for what you did for me when all that stuff happened with Matt. You saved me and I can never thank you enough...'

'I don't want you to thank me, for fuck's sake,' he spluttered angrily, raking his hair back off his face in frustration. 'I want you to give us a go. I want you to look at me the way I look at you. I know you're scared of relationships after that whole Matt thing but it's me. I'm not threatening. You've known me half your life. I've been willing to wait for you to get your head sorted out but it's been too long now. I've waited for three years. I can't do it anymore.'

'Then don't,' she shot back. 'I don't want you to. I didn't want you to in the first place. I don't know how to say this any more clearly. I. DO. NOT. WANT. YOU. TO. WAIT. FOR. ME.' Liv spat out the words.

'I thought you might be jealous about Sophie, that's her name, and change your mind.' 'I'm not and I won't.'

'I'm only going out with her because she looks like you.'

'Oh for fuck's sake, Ruf, give it a rest,' India shouted.

Liv turned around and saw that India and Benedict were standing on the grass behind her. She had no idea how long they'd been there but, judging from Benedict's lowered gaze and India's mounting fury, it had been long enough. 'This is meant to be a celebration for Liv. You're ruining it for her. You've just got to let it go. For your sake and hers.'

India walked towards Liv and bent down. 'You okay?'

Liv nodded. India put out her hand and helped her up.

'God help me, Ruf, if I catch you banging on about this again. She's said no. Like a million times. How many different ways can she say it? I'm going to say it for her for the last time. No. Did you get that? It's no.'

India was shouting loud enough to bring Kate and Tim to the kitchen door.

'What's going on?' asked Kate.

'Nothing,' said Rufus sullenly.

'It's not fucking nothing,' India snapped. 'He's harassing Liv again. This has got to stop, Mum. She'll end up moving out and I'll end up never talking to him again.'

Kate assessed the situation. 'I think Rufus and India need to come inside for a moment before we go on to dinner. Benedict, I apologise for this interruption and hope it has not deterred you from staying for dinner. In fact, I fervently hope you will come with us. It may help my children to behave.' She gave him a weak, apologetic smile.

India stormed up the steps past her parents into the kitchen. Rufus followed behind with his head down. Then Kate firmly shut the door.

'That was intense,' said Benedict looking at Liv. His voice was neutral. 'Are you alright? You're shaking. Shall I get you a jacket?'

'I'm shaking because I'm angry. I'll calm down in a minute and then I'll be fine.' She was acutely embarrassed that Benedict might have heard the conversation between her and Rufus. He was the last person she wanted to see her all wound up and upset. His presence was so electric that she needed to be calm and contained around him otherwise God knows what she'd do. She went and sat down with Daphne again and tried to change the subject. 'Do you think you'll stay for dinner?'

'I think that would be unwise given the dynamics here.'

'Oh, Kate and Tim will be disappointed. They were thrilled to see you.'

'What about you?'

'What do you mean?'

'Will you be disappointed too?'

She'd been studiously avoiding looking at him but now she couldn't help herself. She looked up, surprised by his question. 'I'm not sure what you mean.'

After a beat, he said: 'I know that you're attracted to me. You can hardly bear to look at me. I know that I'm attracted to you. I can't look at you enough.'

That set her heart racing. It also pissed her off. Was she so pathetically transparent?

'How do you 'know' I'm attracted to you?' she spluttered. 'Everyone is attracted to you, for God's sake. Have you seen how India and Kate are flirting with you? I'm sure women do that all the time. And men too.' Coming straight after the situation with Rufus, Liv was in no mood for mind games with a lothario. 'Just because I'm not falling at your feet doesn't mean I'm playing hard to get. I'm not playing at all. You'll just have to try your lines out on someone a bit more pissed than me.' Liv stood up. 'What the fuck is wrong with everyone tonight? I'm going home.'

She couldn't face walking through the house so she marched down to the back gate. It would take her out into the next street and then she could circle back to her front door on Cheltenham Terrace. At the gate, she turned to Benedict. 'Could you make sure Daphne gets back inside?'

As she pulled the gate open, he called out. 'I've waited a whole week to see you. Please don't go before I've had a chance to speak to you.' That stopped her in her tracks. 'I saw you last week.'

'What? When?' Liv was confused.

'On Tuesday morning. I saw you go into Pret and get a coffee. Then you crossed the road and disappeared. I couldn't see where you'd gone. I went back the next day at the same time and waited. I kept going back every day. I worked from there all day instead of in my office. Then this morning I got there and there you were, sitting in the window.'

All kinds of thoughts ran through her head. Was he some sort of stalker? Was he even telling the truth? Was he making this up to get in her pants? It seemed far-fetched, particularly for someone as gorgeous as he was.

'What was I wearing last Tuesday?' she asked, trying to work out if he was just trying it on.

'A black pencil skirt and a white blouse with a light blue denim jacket. You were carrying a spotty, red bag. You were busy reading something as you walked.'

Last Tuesday had been her last lunchtime shift before she'd taken the week off work to prepare for the interview. She had popped into Pret to grab a coffee. She probably had been wearing those clothes and she definitely had been reading something – her presentation. Liv didn't know what to think. It was too much for her to process. Today had been a weird day in all kinds of ways and she now wanted it to be over. She wanted to be in bed reading a book, away from all the mad and confusing bits. She didn't want to have to deal with Rufus. She didn't want to deal with this situation either. What she wanted was to wake up late tomorrow morning and have that moment of excitement when she remembered that she'd got her grant and would be starting her project in October. She definitely didn't want to be standing in an alleyway working out if Benedict was telling the truth or not.

'I'm in Paris tomorrow but I'll be back by 8. Please let me take you out to dinner to make up for this evening. I'll book Jamie's for 8.30.'

The tension was cut by the sound of the back door opening. 'Benedict, your car's here,' called Kate. 'Apparently, you need to get a move on if you want to get to Paris this evening.'

'Ok, thanks. I'll just be a minute,' he called back. He turned to Liv. 'I know this all sounds mad but I've been thinking about you all week. I haven't been able to sleep or eat properly.' He raked his fingers through his hair. 'I've just been waiting to see you again. And then I fucked it up this morning when I saw you. It's complicated but I can explain. Anyway, my number's on your phone. Please let me know if you'll come tomorrow.'

And with that he turned and walked back up the garden path and into the house.
Chapter Four

'Last night was a total fuck-up,' said India as she walked into the kitchen the next morning. Liv was eating toast and googling Benedict Cassel on her iPad at the table. She quickly pressed the home key so India wouldn't see what she was looking at. India grabbed a mug from the cupboard and a teabag from the tin on the counter. She switched the kettle on. 'I'm really sorry about what happened. We ruined your night. I should say that Ruf ruined your night.'

Liv cringed at the thought of the conversation she'd had with him in the garden and then the long, tortured conversation that Kate and Tim had with him in the kitchen afterwards.

'It's alright. I know it's not your fault. In fact, I wanted to say thanks for coming out when you did. I don't what would have happened if you hadn't. I might have really lost it with him.' Over the past year, Rufus had insisted on talking to her about 'their' situation again and again until she wanted to cry with frustration whenever he brought it up. She'd tried reasoning with him to begin with, then arguing with him when he wouldn't give up and more recently just saying no when he asked to talk to her by herself.

'I'm not surprised,' said India. 'He's such a complete dick about this whole thing. He has to let it go.' The kettle clicked and she turned to fill her mug. 'If it's any consolation, he knows he's overstepping the mark but he just can't help himself. He's really beating himself up about it.'

'I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse,' Liv sighed.

'What? That he loves you so much that he can't control his feelings when he sees you? Yeah, I suppose that's pretty heavy. I just wish he'd be all English about it and repress it. If he doesn't do that soon, we're going to struggle to spend any time all together.'

This was true. Christmas, family birthdays and all the other celebrations Kate organised were just about manageable at the moment but if Rufus kept pushing her, the strain would be too much. She'd start avoiding him and the rest of the family too.

'Sometimes he's ok and then other times, like last night, he just has to go there and then it's all tense between us,' Liv said sadly. 'I can't talk to him or be around him like I used to. It was always so easy and now it's really getting hard.'

India sighed. 'I know. It's getting tricky for all of us. Mum and Dad had a really long talk with him last night. They tried to calm things down with me and Ruf first and then I left and they carried on talking. I got a text from Mum just now saying that he was there till 2am.'

'Christ, that sounds really intense.'

'Yeah, it was, at least when I was there. I think he was really embarrassed about kicking off in front of Benedict. Ruf was actually crying when Benedict came back into the kitchen.'

'Shit,' Liv winced. She felt really bad for Rufus and angry with him too. She hated to see him so upset but he'd made it so difficult for them to be friends anymore. And they'd been really close, a little gang of three with India. When they were all still at home, their bedrooms were on the top floor. They hung out together all the time. They were so comfortable with each other that Liv and India would climb into Ruf's bed at night and watch TV before they went to their own beds to sleep. Sometimes they'd fall asleep with him and wake up in a big tangle in the morning. They rarely locked the bathroom door and he would often wander in to brush his teeth in the morning while Liv was having a wee. Even when he moved out, he got a flat round the corner. If India and Liv ever decided to go out on the spur of the moment, they'd always swing by his flat on the way. When he'd been dumped, they were the first people he called, knowing that they'd ply him with wine and Pringles and let him moan, cry and rage as much as he liked. Liv liked that Rufus, the one who was so laid back and easy to be around. Liv wanted that Rufus back and she wanted the old her back too. Her before Matt. She couldn't help feeling that the whole situation was her fault. If she'd only seen the signs a bit earlier. If she'd not let him in that night. If she'd never been attracted to him in the first place, then the last few year wouldn't have happened at all.

India knew Liv well enough to know what she was thinking.

'Don't turn this back on yourself,' she said crossly. 'It's Rufus' problem, not yours. You can't help what happened with Matt and you can't help what's happened with Rufus either.'

They were quiet for a moment, India drinking her tea and Liv drawing squiggles in the toast crumbs on the table.

'I feel bloody sorry for this Sophie woman, though,' said India. 'She sounds alright. She's really into Rufus, apparently.' She pulled out a chair at the table and sat down. 'I feel sorry for Benedict too. He didn't know he was walking into a war zone last night.'

'It's not always a war zone, though,' Liv said. 'It just depends on how Ruf is feeling. And anyway, maybe Benedict didn't hear what Ruf and me were saying.' She felt a small buzz just saying his name. If she wasn't careful, she'd get full-blown mentionitis. 'Unlikely. He was standing next to him and I caught every single word.' 'Shit,' she said, putting her head in her hands and wincing.

'I didn't want to step in too soon because you sounded like you were handling it yourself. Benedict got impatient just standing there. He said he was going to stop Rufus and I had to pull him back. He looked like he really wanted to deck him.'

So much for celebrating her success with a glass of champagne and a nice quiet meal. Kate would feel terrible about the evening going off the rails so dramatically. She would definitely come down this morning with a plan B for them. As if on cue, there was a tap on the kitchen window. Kate was in her dressing gown. Her long, thick auburn hair was hanging in a chunky plait over her shoulder. She had puffy eyes and looked like she'd had a rough night. India unlocked the back door and let her in.

'Well, that didn't go too well, did it,' she said, easing herself into a chair at the table. 'I cannot apologise enough for last night, Liv.' She reached across the table, put her hand on Liv's and gave it a squeeze. 'I want you to know that Tim and I have had a lengthy discussion with Rufus and he acknowledges that he needs some help with his feelings for you. We have suggested that he spends a few days down in Cornwall to clear his head. Tim and I will be going down to join him at the weekend.'

Liv started to apologise to Kate for the trouble she was causing in the family but Kate cut her off. 'I do not want you to blame yourself in any way, Liv. You cannot help the way Rufus feels or the way he behaves around you. You are not responsible for creating a rift in the family and before you offer, you do not need to visit your family in Italy for a while or move out.'

Liv was secretly relieved. She wanted to do the right thing but she also didn't really want to leave the flat.

'To make amends for our curtailed evening, I have rebooked a table for us at Jamie's for this evening.' India opened her mouth to complain but Kate cut her dead. 'I do not want to hear any resistance to this plan. Rufus will not be joining us as he will be on his way to Cornwall. I have, however, asked Benedict to take his place. Benedict will not be back in Bristol till 8pm so I suggest we eat around 8.30pm. Are we all in agreement?'

It was hard to disagree with Kate when she was in this kind of mood. She'd already made bookings and talked to other people. It was a done deal before she 'd even come down to tell them.

They both said 'yes' in a less than enthusiastic way.

Kate got up and went to the back door. 'I suggest you girls get some more sleep. I know I certainly need a nap today. I want us all to be on form for this evening. We have some celebrating to do.'

Kate had only just shut the door when the doorbell rang.

India sprang up. 'That's for me. I've ordered some brushes.'

While she was gone, Liv padded over to the toaster and slotted some more bread in. She heard voices in the hall and then the front door slam. 'Did they arrive?' she called out to India.

'No,' India called back in a muffled voice as she walked down the corridor. 'But this did.' She was struggling to hold onto an enormous box. It was just a bit too big for her to get her arms all the way round. She staggered to the table and dropped the box onto it. 'It's for you.'

Surprised, Liv went over to check the label on the box. It had her name on it. She grabbed the bread knife and hacked through the thick packing tape. Inside was the most beautiful arrangement of flowers. India helped her to lift it out from its polystyrene cocoon and they carefully placed it on the table. It was one of those undone arrangements that look like an English meadow in a vase. Foxgloves, old fashioned roses, peonies and hydrangeas tumbled out of a vintage pistachio coloured jug. The flowers were in faded shades of baby blue, pink and lavender – all her favourites.

'Who are they from?' asked India. 'Your mum?'

Liv doubted it; lovely as her mum was, she didn't get her style at all. Like most Southern Italians, her mum loved shiny, glitzy things. If she sent flowers, they would be bright pink roses wrapped in gold cellophane from a florist round the corner. This box had come from a florist in London. She dug around for a card while India quickly Googled the name on the box.

'Blimey, they did the wedding flowers for Kate Moss and Lily Allen,' she said between slurps of tea. 'They can't have been cheap.'

Liv found a small envelope tied to the jug handle with ribbon. She untied the ribbon with clumsy, shaky fingers. She was suddenly very nervous. Her chest felt like it was too small for her lungs. The words written on the card inside made her heart thump faster and louder. I didn't get the chance to tell you how beautiful you are. BC. She tried to shove the card back in the envelope as quickly as she could, which wasn't easy as fingers weren't working properly and her breathing had gone all wonky. She stuffed the little envelope into the pocket of her dressing gown.

'They're from my sister,' she told India, conscious that her voice sounded a bit shaky.

She felt shaky too so she sat down.

India looked up from the iPad. 'Are you alright? You look a bit weird.'

Liv wasn't surprised she looked weird. She felt slightly dizzy. Adrenaline was speeding through her.'I think I need to lie down,' she said. 'I didn't sleep well last night or the night before, with the interview and everything.'

'Yeah. I'm going back to bed for a bit too. Shall I set my alarm for later? We can have a big girly session before we go out, do our nails and make-up. I'll dig out that foot spa that granny bought me.'

'Sounds good.' Liv quickly retreated to her room and closed the door. She fished out the envelope again and slid out the card. I didn't get the chance to tell you how beautiful you are. Thinking of someone as amazingly gorgeous as Benedict saying those words to her made her stomach flutter. She went and lay down on her bed. She turned on her side and propped the card on the pillow so that she could look at it properly. She stared at it as if it were one of those optical illusions that you look at until you see a butterfly emerge from the rows of dots. She half hoped that by staring at it she might be able to work out if this was really happening. Had she dreamed the conversation with Benedict last night? Had he really camped out in Pret and waited a whole week to catch a glimpse of her? Her brain couldn't quite compute. Last Tuesday morning she'd got ready for work, left the house and then ducked into Pret to grab her usual coffee. She was wearing her uniform and carrying her red, spotty Cath Kidston bag. There was nothing unusual about any of that. Give or take a few details, it could have been any morning from the last three years. And yet, unknown to her, something incredible had happened. A man had spotted her and was so captivated by her that he was desperate to see her again. He wasn't just any man either. He was insanely handsome and, as far as she could tell, rich and good at guessing what kind of flowers she liked. None of this made any sense. Was Benedict a mad romantic or just plain nuts? Was he a terrible nightmare disguised as a gorgeous fairy tale, like all the Daily Mail stories of con men who trick women into parting with their life savings? She had no way of knowing. She'd so completely cut herself off from men and relationships that she wasn't sure she could read situations any more. The only man who'd shown any interest in her after Matt was Rufus and he wanted her but she didn't want him in that way at all. She always tried to explain to Rufus that it wasn't personal; she just didn't want anyone. That didn't really soften the blow for him but it was true. She'd effectively shut down that part of myself. She didn't look at men, she didn't talk to men she didn't know. If they talked to her in a bar, she wouldn't get into any flirty conversations. It was just a blunt 'yes' or 'no' until they gave up and left her alone. She just wanted to be left alone. Alone was better. And safer.

And then she'd seen Benedict last night and it was like a switch had been flicked. Emotions that she hadn't let herself feel for such a long time were suddenly raging around inside her. She'd looked at him and he'd looked back at her with such ferocious intensity and longing that the wall she'd built up so carefully between her and the outside world was swept away. She felt a rush of unfamiliar sensations – her heart raced and her breathing quickened. She felt a strong, throbbing ache between her legs and she knew that she wanted him to fill her up completely. She wanted him inside her to stop this painful aching. It was that instant and that violent. Zero to 100 in the blink of an eye. She'd had to look away, worried that he'd be able to read all that on her face. The walk back from his house had given her a chance to squash down the idea that she wanted him to fuck her. To fuck her really hard and fast over and over again. To slam his dick into her and stretch her wide.

She couldn't stop the torrent of desire once it started. Images of him naked and frenzied flashed before her eyes. She saw him on top of her holding her hands down above her head and pumping her hard. Sweat was dripping off his long fringe onto her breasts. He was grunting and she was moaning. She saw him between her legs licking her and fingering her, making her come. She saw herself kneeling in front of him, his thick, silky cock sliding in and out of her mouth while she gripped his muscly arse. It didn't help that she could see Benedict's muscly arse right in front of her as he walked along beside India. When he looked over his shoulder at her, she felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment like she'd been caught in the act. Crackling physical tension was there between them when he stood behind her at the front door, waiting for Kate to let them in. On the sofa in the living room, she'd felt that almost painful tightness between her legs and had squeezed her thighs together to make it go away. Even when he'd stopped her at the back gate. Just looking at him made her ache for him. It was an ache that she hadn't felt for a long time and it confused and excited her at the same time.

After Benedict had gone back inside the house, she'd shut the back gate and walked round the block to her front door. She hesitated on the pavement outside the house. She thought India might be there waiting for her, half pissed and still fuming about Ruf. She didn't want thoughts of Ruf to infect her thoughts about Benedict so she slipped across the road to the communal gardens. There would be no one in there at this time of night and she'd be able to sit quietly and take it all in.

Spear-headed, black railings ran all the way round the garden. On the inside of the railings, there were tall trees and big rhododendron bushes. They formed a dense ring around a large lawn in the middle. She chose her favourite bench, the one in the far corner tucked behind a tall fir tree, where she knew no one would see her. Liv sat down and took her new phone out of her pocket. The screen blinked to life in the dark. She scrolled through her contacts and there it was: Benedict Cassel's number. In fact, three numbers – his personal mobile, his work mobile and his office number. How had he added his number to her contacts? How had he found her a new phone so quickly and transferred all her stuff onto it in the time it had taken her to sort out her burn and get changed? She couldn't have been out in the staff loos with Naomi for more than half an hour.

Suddenly the phone vibrated in her hand and she was so shocked that she almost dropped it. She had a new text. Yes, I am real. And yes, I meant what I said. BC. Christ, he was a fucking mind reader. Before she could stop herself, she texted back. I didn't realise you were psychic. He shot straight back. One of my many talents. I wanted to make sure you were ok after I freaked you out. Sorry.

Liv texted back. The whole evening's freaked me out, not just you.

Could I see you tomorrow? I want to explain myself.

She had to give him marks for persistence. She paused to think about it. Her head definitely said no but her knickers were saying yes, yes, yes. The deep throbbing had kicked in again. It made her press herself into the bench.

Ok. Enjoy Paris.

I'll enjoy seeing you a lot more.

Now, lying on her bed, staring at the little card, she texted him again.

The flowers are beautiful. Thank you.

A message pinged straight back.

So are you. You're welcome. How is your stomach today?

She'd completely forgotten her stomach in all of this. She peeled back the top corner of the dressing and had a look. Her skin was still red and tight but she wasn't as conscious of it as she had been yesterday.

It's fine. Don't worry.

I have to go now. My flight lands at 8 and I'll come straight over.

Ok. See you then.

She wondered if she should add an 'x' at the end but hesitated. Was it too much? She really didn't know him well enough so she decided against it. She put her phone away and picked up the book on the floor by her bed. Tonight was hours away and she needed to distract herself with some mindless reading.

*

Liv was pulled out of a deep sleep by some loud knocking on her door.

'Let me in,' called India from the corridor.

Liv stumbled out of bed and opened the door to find India wrapped in a towel, holding two glasses of prosecco.

'Christ, that was like waking the dead!' she said, handing Liv a glass. 'Anyway, let's start all over again. To you and your project! Cheers!'

They chinked glasses. Liv took a sip from hers and found that the prosecco was lovely and cold and slipped down far too easily. India drained her glass and then produced a satisfied belch. Sometimes it was just like living with a bloke, Liv thought.

'I found Granny's foot spa and set it up for us,' said India.

India was the least likely person to use a foot spa. She wore DM boots all year round and had never had a pedicure in her life. In the summer, Liv got funny tan lines on her feet from the crisscrossing straps on her Birkenstocks. India's tan line was half way up her shins and her feet were as white and soft as skin underneath a soggy plaster. Granny Campbell disapproved of India's appearance. Granny didn't believe in leaving your body to its own devices. Hair, like men, had to be forced to submit. Her own hair was sprayed into a stiff helmet like Margaret Thatcher. The only time it ever moved was when Granny caught a glimpse of India's armpit hair and then it vibrated with disgust. When withering didn't change India's way, Granny bombarded her with beauty gadgets for every birthday and Christmas. The under stairs cupboard in the flat was a graveyard for hair removers, straighteners and curlers. To Liv's knowledge India had used one of the epilators once, when Rufus got chewing gum stuck in his chest hair. His screams put them off ever trying it again. Naturally, Granny Campbell thought Charlotte looked wonderful. Swathed in figure-hugging Issa dresses with a mane of expensive but subtle highlights, Charlotte's body was as smooth and hair-free as a baby's.

'Ok, I'll grab a quick snack and then get in the shower,' Liv said.

'Ta dah!'. India whipped out the packet of chocolate digestives she had tucked under her arm. 'They might have melted a bit,' she apologised, 'but they'll do until the pizza arrives. It'll be here in about 15 minutes.'

An hour later, full of biscuits, pizza and prosecco, Liv was sitting on the sofa admiring her freshly painted toes. She'd gone for the classic rouge noir and it made her feel very sophisticated and grown-up. India was spending ages painting each toe nail a different colour. The doorbell rang. Liv got up, pulled her dressing gown around her and, worried that her nails weren't quite dry, hobbled to the door with her toes curled up like a pair of Turkish slippers. She opened the door to find a middle-aged woman. She was wearing a white smock top and carrying a big black case.

'I'm here to see a Miss Olivia Russo,' she said, reading the name off the paper. 'I'm a registered nurse and I've been sent to assess an injury and change a dressing. Is she in?' She peered round Liv into the flat.

'I'm Miss Russo and I'm in,' she said, her brain garbled by the prosecco. 'But I don't need any assessing.'

India hollered from the living room. 'Is it my brushes?'

'No, it's a nurse,' Liv yelled back over her shoulder.

India came hobbling up behind her. 'What does she want?'

The nurse sighed as if she were talking to a particularly stubborn child. 'I'm here to see Miss Russo. To assess her injury and change a dressing. Is there a problem? I've been sent here for an emergency appointment.'

'Who sent you?' asked India, bending down to pick some fluff stuck to her toe nail.

The nurse looked at the printed form in her hand. 'Mr Benedict Cassel. The notes on here say that you might try to fob me off but that I should persist as you sustained an injury yesterday.'

Liv hesitated and tried to think of a nice way of telling the woman to go away.

'Look, Mr Cassel has gone to a lot of trouble to get me here,' said the nurse, her face heating up with impatience. 'I was due to start a shift up at the burns unit but then my agency rang and said he would double my pay to come here instead. I don't feel I can justify the money if you don't at least let me see your injury.'

'You might as well,' said India to Liv. 'It still looks really angry.'

Liv reluctantly stepped back and let the nurse in. It was probably easier to get this over with than concoct some pathetic excuse to get her to leave. She let the nurse checked her over and, as Liv had tried to tell everyone all along, it was a bad scald rather than a full-on burn. A new dressing was put on and the nurse said she'd be back every day to change it. When Liv tried to protest, the nurse said she'd come anyway as she was getting paid.

Liv had only just closed the door and hobbled back to the living room when she heard her phone ping with a text.

Did the nurse come?

Suddenly furious at his meddling, Liv quickly shot back a text.

Yes. She didn't need to come. She'd better not come back tomorrow.

He texted straight back.

She says she needs to change your dressing every day for a week.

I don't need you to look after me. I'm perfectly capable of going to A&E if I need help. And I don't. It was coffee not acid. Liv threw the phone down onto the sofa in anger.

Her phone pinged again.

What would you do if you'd thrown a hot drink on me instead? Would you worry and hope I'd got it checked out?

Liv knew that, if the tables were turned, she'd be worried but not enough to wade in and take over.

I'd hope that you were smart enough to assess the situation and make the right call for yourself. I wouldn't override that by sending someone round to see you.

Her thumbs ached from the frantic texting. She threw the phone into her pocket and stormed into her bedroom to find a dress that would hide the dressing. It was lucky that she had lots of sun dresses from spending her summers in Italy. She picked out one she'd bought from a vintage shop in Rome. It had a drawstring neck and fell to just above her knees. The fabric was very soft cotton and had huge lemons printed on it. Still in a strop, she pulled it on roughly and then rooted around under her bed for some shoes. She found her favourites – the blue and white spotty platform wedges with a bow on the ankle strap – and put them on. Then she stomped into India's room.

'What's the matter with you?' asked India, who was still in her bra and knickers. 'You look really pissed off.'

'I am. I can't believe that Benedict sent that nurse round. It's just so fucking arrogant. It's like he thinks I can't sort that out for myself.'

India pulled on an old silk camisole and then a pair of high waisted denim shorts. She sat down on her bed to lace up her boots.

'It does seem a bit control freaky but if you look at it from his perspective, he's probably worried that you'll sue him. You went to his house and saw that he had money. If you were a scum bag you could easily try to get some cash out of him. Get one of those dodgy lawyers off the TV adverts. 'Did you slip over on an old teabag in the kitchen at work? Did bruise your knee slightly? Are you now pretending to be crippled so that you never have to work again despite the fact that you've just been snowboarding?'.'

'I suppose so,' said Liv glumly, 'but I'm uncomfortable with the whole thing.'

'You know why he really sent her, don't you?' India asked, tightening up her laces. 'To check your tits out before he makes a move.'

'India!' Liv yelled hotly. The idea of Benedict looking at her tits excited her and scared the crap out of her at the same time. She had a vivid flash of standing in front of him while he slowly unhooked her bra and then cupped her tits gently in his hands. The image registered deep in her knickers but it also made her chest tighten in panic. She couldn't bear the idea of someone so physically perfect being the first person in years to see her naked.

'He so fucking fancies you,' India carried on. 'I like the fact that you're playing it so cool.

'Yeah, give me a phone. Yeah, send me a private nurse. Whatever. I don't give a shit.''

'It's not that I don't give a shit,' Liv shot back. 'It's just that it's really difficult. There's Matt and there's Rufus. You know I haven't been out with anyone for years. I have no idea what to do. And I don't want someone I hardly know calling all the shots and leaving me no control.' Liv felt her eyes begin to fill with tears.

India's face softened. 'I'm sorry for upsetting you but I wouldn't be a good friend if I let you hide away here for ever. You've had a seriously shit time and now you need to give yourself the chance to have some fun. You're only 28 and you haven't been out on a date in years. You deserve to be treated like a laydee. And then get a good hard shagging. Benedict's the ideal guy to do that. I'm not saying that it won't be hard to go there again but you have to do it sometime and the longer you leave it, the more difficult it gets.' Liv knew India was right but she also wanted to cling onto her safe, little world.

'And I just want to make sure you know something really important. I don't mind if you get a boyfriend. I won't be upset because of the thing with Ruf. You don't have to hold back for him or me either. In fact, I'd be fucking thrilled if you got a boyfriend. It might be the best thing you could do for Ruf. He might finally see that you're not going to fall in love with him and he might finally get a life. It's about fucking time. Now let's go upstairs and raid Dad's wine fridge!'
Chapter Five

Kate was crouched down peering through the glass door of the wine fridge when they let themselves in through the back door.

'Ah girls, what impeccable timing. I'm just perusing your father's wine collection and debating which one he is least likely to miss.'

India crouched down next to her. 'I'll read the labels out, Liv, and you check the prices on your phone.'

They took out the second least expensive bottle and then rearranged the others to make it look like it'd never been there. Kate scooped up some glasses and a bowl of olives and they trooped down to the table at the end of the garden with Daphne in tow. It was almost seven o'clock but the sun was still really hot and bright. They sat back under the shade of the yurt and enjoyed Tim's excellent taste in wine.

'We'll need to finish this and get rid of the evidence before your father gets home in half an hour,' said Kate, emptying the remains into their glasses.

India got up quickly and a bit unsteadily. 'We've got an empty prosecco bottle downstairs. I'll get it now and we can use that as a decoy. Then he won't wonder why we're pissed and there's no bottle on the table.'

Twenty minutes later, Kate skilfully steered the conversation away from their usual, meandering chitchat.

'Now before the men arrive, Liv, I want to make sure that we are all ok after last night. I want to state categorically that I do not bear you any grudges. You are like a daughter to me and I would no more want you out of the house than I would India, Charlotte or indeed Rufus. Is that all understood?' Liv nodded meekly.

'And finally, before we get back to this excellent wine, I want to say that I thoroughly approve of Benedict...' 'Kate!' Liv yelped.

'No, let me finish. I approve of him. He is very clearly interested in you. He could not take his eyes off you last night. I would encourage you wholeheartedly to let him pursue you. Let him spoil you. Lavish you with gifts and take you to wonderful places. And for God's sake, have sex with him. He is the most luscious man I have ever seen and I can only imagine how divine he would be in the sack, though your father does not need to know this.'

'Know what?' said Tim ambling down the garden path. He was in his usual summer outfit of cream linen trousers, a pale blue shirt and a straw trilby. 'Is there something you ladies are keeping from me?'

'No darling,' said Kate, reaching up to kiss him. 'I was merely saying that Liv should definitely engage in the most heated carnal activity with Benedict.'

'Kate!' Liv yelped again, covering her face with her hands. Kate loved embarrassing her children with talk of sex. Tim was no better.

'I completely agree,' he said, picking up the empty prosecco bottle and scrutinising the label with a frown. 'I imagine he would be very good. Very considerate but quite athletic.'

'Dad!' yelled India. 'We don't need to hear this!'

'I have no idea why you're so squeamish about sex,' Tim sighed. 'In my day nobody talked about it and we desperately wished they would.'

'Absolutely, darling,' agreed Kate. 'We knew nothing. Nothing. I have to thank Sex and The City and Girls for teaching me all about what one does in bed these days. In the old days, anything other than missionary position was considered a perversion.'

'And as your mother likes it doggy style, that made her quite the pervert,' Tim continued.

India clamped her hands over her ears and made retching noises.

'I imagine Benedict would be particularly good at anything physical,' said Kate wistfully.

'He was always good at sports at school.'

'Yes, and Rufus was always moaning that Benedict was hung like donkey. Couldn't stand the comparison in the showers after rugby. Rufus made sure he waited till Benedict was fully dressed and gone before he'd venture in for a wash,' Tim reminisced.

'Jesus,' wailed India. 'Will you please stop? I feel sick.'

The conversation came to an abrupt stop when the doorbell rang.

'Ah, the man himself,' muttered Tim. 'Now ladies, do try to keep your eyes away from the poor man's groin. Apart from you Liv, of course. I expect you to apply yourself to exploring the man's groin methodically and vigorously.'

Liv felt her face heat up with hideous embarrassment. She'd lived here for over ten years and she still couldn't get used to the way they talked about sex. Her own family never, ever talked about it. In fact, she'd never even heard her parents say the word 'sex'. If you lived with them, you could almost believe that babies were sent to you by angels or delivered by a stork.

'You'd think feminism had never happened looking at you two,' said Kate with a huff. 'You must take control of your bodies and your pleasure, girls. How can you expect a man to give you pleasure if you turn puce and start choking when I mention the missionary position? Really, girls. Do you still have those rampant rabbits I bought you?' Kate had bought three – one each for Liv, India and one for herself. 'I suggest you acquaint yourselves with it. I can't recommend it highly enough. It has really added something to sex with your father.'

India and Liv both leaned forward and clasped their heads in their hands.

'I can only assume your mother is still talking about sex judging from your extreme discomfort,' said Tim as he loped back to the table. Liv looked up and saw that Benedict was standing beside him. He was wearing a dark blue suit with a dark blue shirt. It looked good against his sun-bleached hair and olive skin.

'It's quite extraordinary,' said Kate. 'We brought them up to be free-thinking, sexually liberated individuals and yet the mere mention of a rampant rabbit turns them into a Jane Austen spinster.' She got up and leaned across to kiss Benedict on the cheek. 'I am hoping that your French parents gave you a somewhat less repressed attitude to sex.'

Benedict, to his credit, didn't show any sign of embarrassment. 'I'm afraid that's a bit of a myth,' he said smoothly. 'The French are very good at tolerating adultery but they aren't really that liberated.'

'Fascinating,' said Kate, patting the seat next to her. 'Do sit down. Tim, could you get us some drinks?'

Benedict sat down opposite Liv. His knees brushed against hers under the table for the briefest of seconds and she felt a jolt of intense attraction pass between them. It felt like an electric shock radiating up through her legs. Benedict caught her eye and fixed her with his penetrating green eyes. She looked away quickly, suddenly awkward but incredibly turned on.

'Now, tell us, how was Paris?' Kate asked.

Now it was Benedict's turn to look uncomfortable. The talk of rampant rabbits hadn't fazed him but this did.

'I didn't see an awful lot of it, really' he said. 'I was there to go a meeting with a family judge. I'm involved in a case that's taking a long time to sort out.' Tim came back with a tray of kir royals, Liv's favourite drink.

'I didn't mean to pry,' said Kate apologetically.

Benedict took a big sip of his. 'You're not prying,' he said, looking down at the glass he was twirling round by the stem. 'It's a really tricky situation. My dad died last year, leaving behind his wife Nathalie and his daughter Lola. Lola's five.' He turned to Liv and India to explain. 'My parents got divorced when I was six and my father got married again a few years ago. He met Nathalie at an AA meeting in Paris, though he didn't tell me that. I think he was worried what I'd say about the age gap - he was 65 and she was 29 when they got married – without adding in the fact that they were both alcoholics. Anyway, after my dad died, Nathalie totally fell apart. I expected it to hit her hard – she was still so young and had a little kid and no family to help her - but I didn't think she'd completely go off the rails. If I'd known about her being an alcoholic, then maybe I might have seen it coming. As it was, I went to visit them in March and Lola answered the front door. I asked where her mum was and she said asleep. It was three in the afternoon. I found Nathalie unconscious in bed with some guy. They'd been drinking and doing drugs, probably crystal meth. Lola was eating cereal from a box in her room and watching Peppa Pig on her iPad.' He paused. 'It turns out it wasn't the first time either. Lola went straight into foster care as there was no one else in France to look after her. I'm trying to get custody as the only surviving relative, apart from my little brother of course, but he's not mature enough to take on the responsibility.'

'Fuck,' whispered India. 'That's terrible.'

'And how very generous of you to step in,' said Kate quietly.

'Well, there's no one else,' Benedict shrugged. 'Nathalie was an only child of old parents. They retired in France but died a few years. It's either me or Lola gets put up for adoption. She's my half-sister. I couldn't let her be adopted by complete strangers. At least she knows me.' He took out his phone and found a photo of Lola. She looked just like him. She had his olivey skin and her blonde hair was cut into a chic little bob. She was wearing Minnie Mouse ears and was unbelievably cute.

'Will the courts let her come to England with you?' asked Tim, handing back the phone.

'Maybe,' answered Benedict, still twisting his glass round. 'Nathalie's alcoholism might work in my favour. Anyway, how did we get to here from rampant rabbits?' He looked up and smiled.

'That is a good question,' said Tim. 'And one that can only be answered with more kir.'

Kate looked at her watch and got up from her chair. 'There is no time for more kir, I'm afraid. Dinner beckons. Come.'
Chapter Six

After a false start the day before, this time round their evening went off without a hitch. They left the house to walk down to Park Street. Tim settled in between Liv and India, taking their arm in his.

'Your mother wants to extract as much information as possible from Benedict,' he confided as they set off. 'Poor bugger. Kate missed a calling as an interrogator at Guantanamo. If he hasn't spilled his innermost anguish by the time we reach the Triangle, she'll probably water board him in the Victoria Room fountains.'

'Any excuse to get her hands on him,' muttered India under her breath.

'I heard that, India!' said Kate, falling into step behind them with her arm linked through Benedict's.

At the restaurant, there was a scuffle when the waitress showed them to their booth. Kate and India hijacked Tim and shot off ahead. The three of them quickly sat down in a row on one side of the table. If Benedict was embarrassed or awkward about this barefaced bit of romantic engineering, then he didn't show it. He gestured for Liv to sit down first and then calmly slid onto the banquette next to her. Again, she was very aware of his physical presence. It was like a force field around him when he was close. Now his leg was just millimetres away from hers on the banquette. In the cool air conditioning of the restaurant she could feel his body heat radiating through his trousers. She tensed in anticipation, of what she didn't know. That she would have to talk to him or look at him? That she wouldn't be able to keep her hands off him? She could hear her pulse rushing through her ears. There was that undeniable throbbing between her legs again. She shifted in her seat to relieve the feeling. Just as she did this, Benedict opened his legs slightly and his leg was suddenly against hers from thigh to knee. The electricity that passed between them was so strong that she gasped.

Tim, Kate and India looked all at her.

'Are you alright, Liv?' Kate asked with a concerned look on her face.

'Yes,' she lied. 'I've just banged my knee.'

India smirked at her across the table. Liv gave her a sharp kick in the shin. Luckily the waitress arrived with the menus and everyone turned their attention to food. Liv held up the huge menu in front of her and used the chance to think. Any plans to play it cool at dinner had gone straight out of the window the moment they'd sat down. She'd been really angry about the nurse all afternoon and was planning to give Benedict the cold shoulder until he apologised. She'd had enough of men trying to force her to do things. First Rufus and now him. But the minute he appeared in the garden with Tim, her anger disappeared. Liv watched him chatting with Tim as they walked across the lawn. He was smiling at whatever Tim was saying but he was looking at her from under his hooded lids. His gaze was intense and serious. She couldn't imagine that any part of her anatomy would stay cold with those eyes on her. Her body responded to him against her will. From the expression on his face to the relaxed but confident way he walked, everything about him made her skin tingle. She finally understood what magnetic attraction was all about. She could feel her body literally being drawn towards his. It wasn't his money, his status or even his good looks that made him irresistible to her, it was something biological. Something basic in every cell of her body reacted with his. And then there was Lola. If Liv had any lingering resentment, it was wiped out when he talked about his half-sister. She'd had to fight back the tears when he'd shown her Lola's picture. She'd wanted to straddle him, cup his face in her hands and kiss him hard. She wanted to tell him how lovable and amazing he was. Yet here she was, wildly attracted to him and knowing that he was wildly attracted to her but she was hiding behind her menu.

The others discussed what they were ordering. Liv stared blankly at her menu but couldn't see any of the words. She was too conscious of Benedict sitting next to her. 'So, what's good to eat?' he asked everyone.

'Ah, now that is Liv's jurisdiction,' said Tim, giving her an encouraging look. India and Kate looked at her expectantly too, like parents willing their five-year-old to say their lines in their first Christmas nativity play. Liv took an enormous gulp of wine glass to steady herself and then started picking out her favourite things. She kept her eyes on the menu so that she wouldn't have to talk to him directly. After a couple of minutes, she began to relax. Talking about antipasti and polenta chips was easy, much easier than talking to him about anything else. Benedict visibly relaxed too and they both leaned back against the banquette to look at their menus together. Liv glanced up and saw Kate beaming at her. India gave her a none too subtle thumbs up that subtly turned into the universal hand sign for a wank. Liv narrowed her eyes and glared at her in mock anger.

After the waiter had taken their order, Kate started bickering with India about the state of their flat. Tim, keen to stay out of it, was suddenly engrossed by the label on the bottle.

Liv smiled at the familiar scene.

'They're quite a double act,' said Benedict, laughing.

Liv saw his hand was resting on his lap under the table. Without thinking she slid her own hand on top of it. He turned to look at her in surprise but then laced his fingers through hers. She didn't say anything and neither did he. They carried on watching Kate and India, who had now moved on to the hot topic of Charlotte's boyfriend. Miles was, in India's opinion, a morally bankrupt arse. Kate, trying desperately to cling onto the fantasy of a happy family, defended him but couldn't find a single thing she liked about him other than he loved Charlotte. Liv kept quiet, not only because she always held back when it came to Charlotte, but also because she was acutely aware of their hands entwined under the table. The feel of Benedict's smooth skin, the way his thumb was massaging her palm in slow circles. Her skin felt hypersensitive and the sensation radiated all through her. She imagined him rubbing his thumb on her clit and with his fingers inside her. Then she tried her hardest not to think about it and concentrate on the others but it was impossible. The more he circled his thumb on her palm, the more she wanted him.

Through the rest of dinner, they chatted and laughed with the others. When Benedict spoke, she turned to look at him and couldn't believe she was holding his hand under the table. He was so gorgeous with his tousled hair, tanned skin and high cheekbones. His usual intense, serious look was gone. Instead, he looked relaxed and happy. When she felt his hard, muscular leg against hers, she desperately wanted to hook her own legs round his while he fucked her.

After a playful battle with Tim, Benedict paid the bill and Kate insisted that he come home with them for a 'thank you' drink. Outside on the street, they fell into the same formation as before, only this time Kate and Benedict went ahead and Tim, India and Liv strolled along behind.

'Check out his arse,' said India wistfully. 'It looks rock hard. You just want to sink your teeth into it.'

'Quite,' said Tim. 'It's very peach-like. 'The ass is the face of the soul of sex.''

'What?' asked India.

'It's Charles Bukowski. A man who knew his arse from his elbow.'

'With any luck, Liv will know Benedict's arse from his elbow before too long.'

'India!' Liv hissed. 'God, you're so embarrassing.'

'Oh come on, I could have lit a fag from the flames coming off the pair of you.'

'Yes, we were resplendent in your carnal heat,' mused Tim. 'Reminds me of my first date with Kate...'

'No!' India and Liv shrieked in unison, not wanting any more graphic details about Kate and Tim's sex life.

They reached Cheltenham Terrace and came to a stop on the pavement outside the house. Kate fished the keys out of her bag.

'Why don't you come to my house for a drink instead?' asked Benedict suddenly, looking straight at Liv.

'Yes!' exclaimed Tim. 'Wonderful idea.'

'Much as I would like to, we're off to Cornwall tomorrow morning to meet Rufus and I suspect we will need a clear head so I'm afraid we will have to pass.' Kate gave Tim a pointed stare and then let them all digest the mention of Rufus' name. 'We would very much like to come another time though. Perhaps next week instead?'

'Yes, next week would be great,' said Benedict.

'I'm sure the ladies would be thrilled to join you,' Kate said. 'India? Liv?'

'I'm off to Cornwall with Mum and Dad so it'll just have to be Liv,' said India with mischief in her voice.

'Wonderful,' said Kate clapping her hands. 'Off you go. Good night all.' She kissed Benedict, India and then Liv on the cheek. She leaned in close and whispered into her ear. 'Go. He's exquisite. I expect a full and detailed report.'

India then hugged Benedict before she threw her arms around Liv. 'I order you to sink your teeth into that man's arse,' she whispered, giggling. 'Don't come home otherwise.' She gave Liv a little shove towards Benedict and then disappeared quickly down the steps to their front door in the basement. Kate and Tim shot up the steps to their front door and disappeared inside.
Chapter Seven

'That was subtle,' said Benedict.

'Yeah, I'm surprised Kate didn't hand us a condom and the Kama Sutra,' Liv said. 'It wouldn't have been the first time.'

'Seriously?' Benedict laughed.

'Yeah and she'd marked all her favourite positions with Post-it notes.'

'Wow,' he said, shaking his head and laughing. 'No pressure, then.'

They were silent for a moment, unsure what to say next. Liv felt the atmosphere between them crackle with lust. Condoms and the Kama Sutra had sparked all kinds of ideas in their heads. All of a sudden, he took her hand. 'Come on, let's go.'

They walked back to his house without saying another word. They walked fast and the nearer they got, the more nervous, excited and slightly sick Liv felt. The lovely cushion of confidence and lightness from the champagne and wine at dinner was suddenly gone. She was very sober and very unsure of what she was doing. Benedict's long legs were carrying them home a bit too quickly for her liking. Before she knew it, they were crunching up the drive to his house. It was very quiet apart from the noise of the gravel under their feet and the swish of the trees overhead.

An automatic light clicked on by the front door. Benedict quickly unlocked it and led her through a cool, dark hallway into a living room. A lamp in the corner of the room threw a pool of light onto the dark red walls and a pair of facing sofas.

'I'll get us a drink. Sit down.' She heard Benedict's footsteps die away on the stone floor in the hall.

Liv sat down on the sofa and took her sandals off. She leaned back and tried to relax. She felt exhausted from the tension between them but also totally wired. Her body was in a state of anticipation where everything felt good. The softness of the velvet sofa against her bare shoulders and legs, the coldness of the stone floor under her feet. She closed her eyes and tried to stop her racing thoughts with deep breaths.

'Are you asleep?'

She was jolted out of her calming thoughts by Benedict returning with two bottles and two glasses. She sat up. 'No, just tired.'

'I noticed you liked the kir royal so I've made some more.' He put the bottles down on the coffee table in front of them, handed her a drink and took one himself.

She watched Benedict take a sip and then she took a big gulp. She was tempted to finish it in one and had to stop herself. She needed the buzz of the champagne to find her confidence again.

'You haven't said anything since we left Kate and Tim's house. Are you ok?'

'I think so,' she answered quietly, taking another sip to calm herself down. 'I'm sorry but my brain's all over the place.'

'What are you thinking about?'

She took another big gulp and then put the almost empty glass down shakily on the table. It clattered slightly and she had to steady it with her hand to stop it falling over. Then she turned to look at Benedict, something she'd struggled to do properly all night. In the half-light from the lamp she could see his slanted green eyes, his pupils were large and dark. He was so bloody gorgeous. She looked at his full lips and then, with a boldness she didn't recognise in herself, she leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. His lips were soft and warm and yielded instantly. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him some more. Light, slow kisses on his lips. She kissed the corners of his mouth, his cheeks and his ear. She ran the tip of her tongue round the inside of his ear and then tugged on his earlobe softly with her teeth. With a voice she didn't recognise, she whispered into his ear. 'I want you.' She licked his ear again and heard him sigh.

'I want you too,' he answered. 'I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you.' He took her face in his hands and kissed her full on the mouth, softly at first and then harder. She opened her mouth and the tips of their tongues circled slowly round each other. She ran her fingers through his silky hair as their kissing grew harder and more frenzied. She started fisting his hair, pulling it as the throbbing between her legs grew. She bit his bottom lip and then ran her tongue along the inside of his top lip. He moaned and pulled her down so they were lying facing each other on the sofa. It was warm and dark and his body was pressed against hers. She could feel his hard erection against her stomach. He began to kiss her neck, alternating between kisses and little nips. He worked his way all down her neck to the top of her breast. He pushed the drawstring of her dress off her shoulder and pulled her dress down on one side. Through her strapless bra he pulled her nipple into his mouth. She felt her nipple harden and a wave of pleasure rippled out through her, tightening her insides even more. He freed her nipple from the fabric and then blew his warm breath on it. Liv, remembering just how good sex could be, arched her back in pleasure as he squeezed her nipple between his fingers and then started lapping at it with his tongue. It was more than she could bear. Suddenly three years of no sex seemed like far too long. She hooked her leg over his hip to pull him closer. His cock felt hard, thick and long against her. 'Please fuck me.'

'Soon,' Benedict murmured as sucked her nipple. He slid his hand under her dress to find her knickers. Then he cupped his hand between her legs and she ground against his palm, desperate for him to relieve her insane desire. Instead, he lazily stroked up and down through her knickers, raking a line between her clit and her arse with his nails. She bucked against his hand, driven wild by his teasing. He circled round her clit with his finger slowly, stopping when he felt her tense against him. She felt the mounting pressure between her legs and was struggling to contain it. As he flicked his tongue on her nipple, he gently pushed her knickers to one side and slid two fingers inside her.

'Fuck, you're so wet,' he gasped in a low voice. He drew his fingers out slowly all the way and then plunged them in again hard and fast. He did this over and over and she writhed against the sofa.

'Please,' she moaned. 'Just fuck me. I want to feel your cock inside me.'

He ignored her and moved his mouth from her nipple down to between her legs. Kneeling between her legs he lapped at her clit as he fucked her with his fingers. Her fingers bunched in his hair as she pushed his head hard between her legs. She felt an orgasm beginning to build, her insides tightening against his fingers. He teased her by switching from lapping her clit to moving his tongue round the very edge of it in slow circles.

'Please let me come,' she whimpered, pushing her feet into the sofa. 'Please.'

He reached up with his free hand to stroke her nipple and started fucking her faster with his fingers. His tongue began lapping her clit furiously and she felt herself hurtling towards the edge. As she went into ecstatic free fall, her cunt clamped around his fingers over and over again. Crying out in something between joy and pain, she bucked into his face, her hips tilted high off the sofa. She gasped and clawed the sofa as the pleasure gripped her. She stayed frozen like that, her eyes squeezed shut and her legs rigid from bracing herself against the onslaught of her orgasm. When it finally began to subside, Liv dropped her hips back onto the sofa. Then she sat up.

'Sit up,' she ordered.

Benedict got off all fours and sat back on his heels. Liv leaned forward, unzipped his trousers and pulled them down as far as she could over his muscular thighs. She couldn't wait for him to fuck her anymore. The fat, glistening head of his cock was sticking out of the waistband of his pants. She pulled his pants down and reached for it. It was smooth, long and so thick that she could barely reach her fingers all the way round. She slid her fisted hand up and down his shaft.

'Don't,' he said tightly. 'I'm too close. I want to come inside you.' He quickly unbuttoned a couple of buttons on his shirt, then pulled it up over his head and threw it on the floor. Liv's eyes slid over his chest and stomach. They were ripped, each muscle hard and perfectly defined. His abs dovetailed just above his erect cock. He reached over to the table and took out a condom from his wallet. In one smooth move, he ripped open the wrapper and rolled the condom down onto his hard cock. Liv lay back down and he knelt over her, grasping her hips so that he could guide the tip of his cock between her legs. The smooth tip pushed past her wet, swollen lips and slowly sank inside her. It filled her up completely and stretched her wider than she'd ever been before.

'You're so tight,' he gasped and then withdrew slowly until just the very tip of his cock was inside her. He did this over and over until she couldn't stand it anymore. The slow torture was killing her.

'Fuck me hard till you come,' she moaned.

Benedict settled on top of her and rested his forearms on the sofa either side of her to take his weight.

'Are you sure?' he asked, looking straight into her eyes.

'Yes,' she whispered. 'Please.'

After a beat, he thrust his cock straight into her. 'Is that ok?' 'Yes.'

He slammed it in again and this time kept pumping his cock into her so hard that, before long, she found her head squashed up against the arm of the sofa. She didn't care. She had his hard cock inside her and that was all she wanted. She gripped his hard biceps and hooked her legs round his waist. He pumped faster and grunted with each thrust. He bit the top of her shoulder and she dug her nails into his arms.

'I'm going to come,' he whispered hoarsely. 'I'm going to come.'

'Yes, yes,' she whispered back. 'Come.'

She felt his cock thicken and harden inside her. Then it spasmed and he came, pumping his cum deep inside her. He shuddered hard with each jerk and tipped his head back to let out a long, pained groan. His entire length was buried inside her, his pubic hair pressed firmly against her swollen lips, as he released his last few drops into her. When there was nothing left, he fell onto his side next to her, his cock still in her.

'Christ,' he said. 'That was fucking amazing.' He pulled her to face him and kissed her, pushing her fringe back from her eyes so that he could look straight at her. 'You're amazing.' He rubbed his nose against hers and kissed her again.

'So are you,' she said, kissing him back. She put her palm against his sweaty chest. She could feel his racing heart beginning to slow down. She ran her fingers along the hard ridge of his shoulder and then started to trail them down his arm. The smooth skin suddenly gave way to a fretwork of bumps and uneven lines that ran half way down his bicep. Liv felt Benedict freeze beside her. She waited a second in case he was going to say something and when he didn't, she carried on stroking him as if nothing had happened. Over the sculpted ridges of muscle in his chest and the hard slab of his stomach until she reached the hair at the base of his cock.

'You have the biggest cock I've ever seen,' she said.

'I bet you say that to all the boys,' he laughed.

'Actually, yours is the first I've seen in a very long time. Maybe I've just forgotten what they look like.'

'It can't have been that long.'

'Three years, one month and six days,' she answered, not actually sure why she was getting into this discussion. She didn't want her past to spoil what had just happened between them but something was urging her to tell him.

'Shit, how do you know the exact date?' he laughed again. 'Was it that monumental?'

'It was my birthday and yes, in a way it was monumental. I didn't want anyone to touch me again afterwards for a long time. In fact, you're the first and only person I've wanted to have sex with since.'

Benedict looked at her and stroked her cheek tenderly. 'You don't have to tell me, you know. If it's too difficult.'

'I don't want to tell you in case you'll look at me differently afterwards but if I don't do it now, then it'll get harder to tell you. And you'll wonder why I didn't.'

'I won't,' he said gently. 'I'll understand that you couldn't.'

With her head pressed against his warm chest in the semi darkness, she felt that she could finally say the truth out loud. She felt safe and protected in a way that she hadn't since her birthday three years, one month and six days ago. It was also easier as she didn't have to look at him and see any disgust in his face.

'My boyfriend Matt...,' she faltered. She started again. 'It was my birthday but I had a final's exam the next day so I didn't want to go out that night. I stayed at home and studied. India, Kate and Tim were down in Cornwall for a long weekend. Rufus was around but he was out somewhere.' She hesitated, unsure whether she could really say this. She drew in a deep breath and ploughed on. 'Matt went out and got drunk with his rugby mates. I thought he'd just go home afterwards but he rang my buzzer at 12.30. He was really slurring and I just about managed to understand that he wanted to come up and see me. I was still up, studying, so I buzzed him in. He stomped up the stairs to my room and burst in through the door. I could instantly tell there was something wrong about him. He looked weird and really frantic. He was usually so easy going and laid back. Anyway, I was sitting on my bed, studying, and he said something I couldn't quite catch. I asked him to say it again and I still couldn't understand. That made him go ballistic. He stormed over and put his hands round my throat and pinned me to the bed, yelling at me for being a stupid bitch. I tried to fight back but he was really strong. I'm not small but he was six foot four and a rugby player. He was all solid muscle. I tried to kick him off and wriggle out of his hands but I couldn't.' She paused to steady her breathing. She hadn't had to say any of this since she'd given a statement to the police although she'd thought about each and every detail of it over and over again. It was like the worst, most traumatic scene of a horrible film playing on an endless loop in her head. 'He let go of my throat with one hand so he could rip down my pyjama bottoms. Then he pulled his jeans down and got on top of me. I tried to shout for him to stop but I could hardly breath. He was so heavy on top of me.' She paused again. 'And then he raped me. He only stopped when Rufus came in and pulled him off me.'

Benedict stroked her back and her hair. 'You don't have to say any more.'

'No, I need to finish this.' Now she'd started, she needed to get to the end. 'Rufus tried to hold onto Matt but he couldn't. Matt was just wild, swinging at Rufus and kicking him. Then Matt picked up my desk chair and whacked Rufus with it. That knocked him over knocking him over and Matt grabbed his chance to get away. He was down the stairs and out of the house like a shot. Poor Rufus tried to get up and chase him but he was in too much pain. It turned out that Matt'd broken a couple of his ribs with the chair. Rufus rang the police. When they turned up, I was still lying on the bed totally in shock. I don't think I'd even pulled my pyjama bottoms back up. Rufus was on the floor. It was like something out of a crappy police drama. Rufus started to tell them what had happened when my phone rang. It was Matt. One of the police officers asked me to put him on speaker phone so that we could all hear him but no one could really understand what he was saying. It was so garbled. He was crying and kept saying one word. One of the policeman finally twigged that the word was 'bridge' and ran off down the stairs yelling into his radio for back-up. That was the last thing I heard Matt say.' Liv remembered the strange silence in her room after the policeman had left. They'd heard the screech of tires on the street outside and then the wail of sirens in the distance. The silence was broken by the thud of footsteps on the stairs when the ambulance crew arrived. 'I tried again and again to call him back but his phone went straight to voicemail every time. I just couldn't understand why he wasn't answering. In the end, a police officer told me to give up. There was no point. Matt had run to the bridge and had thrown himself off before anyone could stop him.' Benedict kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tighter.

'The coroner said Matt had taken cocaine and drunk far too much alcohol with it. Apparently that can make you psychotic. It explained why everything he did that night was so out of character. He'd always been really sweet and caring with me. I'd never seen a scary side even when he was totally pissed. In fact, he usually just got soppy when he was drunk.' She hadn't thought about Matt being soppy in such a long time. It was totally at odds with the last time she had seen him. Given everything that had happened, it was almost easier to forget about the good things and focus on the bad. Then she could just be angry with him. If she thought about the lovely stuff – when he'd worked all summer in a shitty job just so that he could take her to Spain to eat at the world's best restaurant or when he talked about wanting her babies when he was drunk - it made her so sad. Sad that he missed out on his life and sad that he'd fucked up hers too. She knew he hadn't done it on purpose. If he hadn't jumped off the bridge that night, he'd have been absolutely mortified about what he'd done. She knew that for certain. Matt was a good person. He'd loved her and she'd loved him. It took just thirty minutes of madness to ruin that for both of them.

Liv didn't say anything else. She was caught up in all the 'what ifs' of that night, something she hadn't thought about for a while. What if Matt had never done any coke? What if he'd just gone home? What if she hadn't let him in? And the most terrifying of all, what if Rufus hadn't come home at that moment? It was something that she found herself thinking about a lot in the months after Matt died. Lying in bed, unable to sleep, Liv couldn't help thinking that maybe it would have been easier if she'd died too. Then she wouldn't have to deal with what he'd done to her and himself.

Liv realised that she'd been quiet for a long time. She was conscious that Benedict had been too. Maybe he was trying to think of a way of getting out of this situation. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing you talked about on a first date. Jobs, travelling and politics maybe, but definitely not rape and death. Especially after you'd just had sex and one of you still had your cock inside the other.

'I'll understand if you can't handle this,' she said eventually. 'I know it's hideous and shocking and honestly, I'm disgusted by it too. I would understand if you couldn't look at me in that way...'

Benedict cut in, his voice catching. 'I'm shocked, really shocked, but I'm not disgusted. I'm just so, so sorry that this happened to you. That you had to go through this. And I'm worried that I hurt you when we had sex. I feel terrible for getting so carried away.'

'No,' she said, taking his chin in her hand and looking straight into his eyes. 'You didn't hurt me. God, it was totally the opposite. It was amazing. It was more amazing than I imagined it might be. You made me feel so desirable and horny that it was like you were erasing the past. For three years, I've been stuck. I've let that night with Matt define everything. It's made me completely shut off a huge part of myself. I detached myself from any attraction or pleasure and I kept myself separate from everyone, especially men. And then I saw you and what I felt for you was so strong that it bypassed all the crap. It made me feel normal, like a woman seeing a man and thinking 'Oh my god, I just so want to fuck him.'' She kissed him. 'Please don't be scared of touching me. You're not hurting me. You're making me feel alive. If anything, I'm the one who's scared, scared that I want you too much.' She took his hand and put it between her legs. 'I want you to touch me here. I want you to keep touching me here.'

He looked at her for a moment and she was unsure what he was thinking. She worried that he was working out how to let her down gently. Her heart raced just thinking that he might want to walk away, that she was too complicated and damaged. She was sure that he could have his pick of beautiful women and that he didn't need to get involved with someone with her history.

'I want to touch you there too,' he said quietly, cupping her in his hand. 'I want to lose myself between your legs and make you come over and over again but most of all I want to love you as you deserved to be loved and keep you safe.' He kissed her gently. 'There's nothing damaged or broken about you,' he said. 'You're strong, resilient and fucking hot.' He kissed her harder, his tongue darting into her mouth. 'I think we should go upstairs.'
Chapter Eight

Benedict led her through the huge, echoey hall and up the wide, stone staircase. Upstairs, he opened a door to a bedroom. He walked across to the bed and flicked on the lamp. It revealed a huge room with dark red walls and an old-fashioned four poster bed with a flowery, quilted bedspread on it.

'This is my dad's house,' he said by way of an apology. 'I'm just living here until I can move into my new place.' He went to the huge arched windows and pulled the heavy velvet curtains across.

Liv stood in the doorway, unsure what to do. He padded over to the bed and sat down.

'Come here,' he said stretching out his hand to her.

Liv hesitated. She was nervous now, more than she'd been before they'd had sex downstairs. She'd told him her worst secret and now she wasn't sure if he'd be able to get past it, whatever he'd promised. When she didn't move, Benedict got up and walked over to her.

'You're so beautiful.' He looked her right in the eye and gently traced his fingers down her cheek first and then her neck. Electricity sparked between her skin and his fingertip, pushing any worries away.

His fingers reached her dress. 'Can I take this off?'

She nodded. He untied the drawstring and then pulled her dress down to her waist, revealing the dressing underneath.

'Can I see?' he asked.

'Of course,' Liv said. She carefully peeled back the tape and he leaned forward to look. Even in the half light, her skin looked sore.

'I'm really sorry,' he said leaning forward to plant light kisses across her stomach. 'I'm so sorry I did this to you.'

'It was an accident. I'm fine. And it'll be gone in a few days.'

Encouraged by his tenderness, Liv pulled her dress down all the way and stepped out of it. She was left in just her knickers and bra. 'Can I?' she asked, pointing to his trousers.

He nodded. Liv unbuttoned the waistband and pulled down the zip as he watched. Then she tugged on the trousers gently until they slipped over his muscly thighs and fell to the floor. He kicked them off quickly, leaving him naked apart from his tight trunks. Liv couldn't help noticing the huge bulge in them. She reached out to free his beautiful cock and then stopped. She didn't want to be the one to pounce on him. She needed proof that he still wanted her now that he knew about Matt.

'What's the matter?' Benedict looked confused. 'Don't you want to?'

'Of course, I want to.' 'What is it, then?'

Liv struggled to explain herself. 'I don't want to feel like I'm taking the lead. I need to know that we're having sex because you want to and not because I started it.'

'Does it look like I don't want to?' He looked down at his crotch. Liv could clearly see the upward curve of his huge cock and the outline of its thick head through his tight trunks.

She shook her head.

He took her hand and placed it on his cock. Then he tipped her chin up with his other hand so that she was looking at him. 'I want you to touch it. I want you to do whatever you want with it. With me. I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone else. Do you understand?'

Liv nodded mutely.

'Good. Let's lie down.'

He led her over to the bed and they lay down. The mattress was old and saggy and they found themselves rolling straight into a deep dip in the middle. They both burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation and suddenly the tension of the last few minutes was gone.

'Well, that was sexy,' Benedict laughed. 'There's nothing like being swallowed by an old mattress to get you in the mood.'

'It is kind of sexy,' said Liv. They were lying so close together, skin to skin from head to toe, that she could barely focus on him. His hand rested on her waist and he draped his leg over hers to draw her even closer. It seemed like such a natural thing to do, as if they always did this when they went to bed. His breath warmed her lips as he breathed out and when he brushed his own across hers, she felt the tingling course down through her. It didn't matter where he touched her. Each touch lit a fuse that inevitably ended between her legs.

He cupped her face in his hand and his expression turned from amused to intense and serious. 'You're so beautiful. I'm so sorry that I hurt you.' He kissed her gently.

'You don't have to keep apologising.'

'I want to explain what happened but I haven't had a chance to talk to you alone yet. I was so surprised to see you sitting there in the window on Tuesday morning. I wanted to talk to you but I kept getting phone calls from Paris about Lola and then from my solicitor here. I was basically wrangling with lawyers the whole time you were there and getting really pissed off with them. Then I bumped into you with the coffee.'

'Why didn't you just stay and apologise?'

'You really didn't seem like you wanted to talk to me.'

'No, I was seriously fucked off. But you didn't have to buy me a phone, you know.' 'But how was I going to give you my number otherwise?' he smiled.

'You'd have seen me again. I'll be back at work on Monday and you might have seen me then.'

'That was leaving too much to chance.'

'But what if I had just taken the phone and binned your card?' she wondered out loud. It was possible.

'Then I'd have known that you weren't right for me.'

She slipped her bent knee between his. 'What kind of person if the right person?' She had a feeling she wasn't his type and her insecurity pushed her to ask.

'Well, she should have beautiful brown hair in a cute 1950's style,' he kissed her forehead, 'smooth olive skin,' he kissed her cheek, 'full, soft lips,' he kissed her lips, 'a long, elegant neck,' he traced a line of kisses all the way down her neck and into the hollow at the base. 'Strong shoulders,' he whispered, gliding his hands down over her, 'soft breasts, a cute belly button, a great arse and then this.' He pressed the flat of his palm between her legs. She was still sensitive there but the feel of his cool hand was enough to have her wriggling against it. 'Especially this.' Her wriggling made his cock swell against her stomach.

'And the right man would have this,' she said, slipping her hand between them to get to his impressive cock. 'Definitely this.' His hard-on was so solid that she had to pull it away from his stomach to get her hand round it. Liv loved the feel of it. It was silky soft on the surface but rock hard underneath. She wanted to hold it, to get to know every bit of it and what Benedict liked. He seemed to like anything and everything she did. Just the light grasp of her fingers made his cock longer and harder. 'I love your cock,' she whispered. She circled her thumb around the back of its broad head and he groaned. His head dropped back and his eyelids flickered in pleasure.

'It loves you too,' he said.

Liv couldn't get enough of turning him on. Seeing him so disarmed made her feel powerful and incredibly sexual. Something primal was controlling her over, turning her into a seductive temptress who could bring gorgeous men to their knees. It was a power that she'd never felt before and she liked it. For the first time, she was in tune with her body. There was no fear, no overthinking, no awkwardness. Her brain wasn't telling her what to do or how to move. Her desire was doing that instead, like some higher power that bypassed any thoughts in her head and flowed straight into her hands and legs and mouth. She had a strong urge to see his cock so she slid down the bed until she was facing it. It was big and beautiful. She rubbed the tip of her nose against it, breathing in the heady scent of warm skin and cum. 'Mmm,' she murmured and then ran her tongue around the thick tip and down the bulging vein all the way to his balls. They were already firm but they instantly tightened at her touch. She licked them all over, moving the flat of her tongue across the puckered skin. Then she drew them into her mouth one at a time, sucking gently. Benedict moaned. She nudged his legs apart with her hands. First, she drew her nose along the crease of his thigh to take in his raw, manly smell. Next, she slipped her tongue behind his balls and licked the soft, smooth skin there. Benedict gasped and grabbed her head, thrusting into it. This spurred her on. Liv kept licking his balls and then back up the throbbing vein of his cock to the fat tip. She licked the head again, now glistening with a drop of pre-cum. She slowly slid her lips over the tip and pulled them in to form a tight ring around it. She bobbed her head over the tip a few times while she carried on wanking him with her other hand. Then, when her jaw had got used to the sheer size of his dick, she took a bit more into her mouth. She felt a moan vibrate through his chest and stomach and he pulled hard at her hair. She finally took him all into her mouth and felt his cock hit the back of her throat. She sucked harder and slowly drew it out again, circling her tongue round his cock as she went. When she started sucking faster, he arched into her and his rock hard thighs began to tremble. With her free hand she reached up and grabbed his nipple between her fingers, rolling it and then pulling on it gently. By now he was bucking into her face and panting hard. Unable to hold himself back, he pushed his cock deep into the back of her throat and she felt his cock shudder. He cried out as he spurted the thick, hot cum into her mouth. Liv struggled to swallow it fast enough as he kept on coming. When he was finally finished, she let his cock slip out of her mouth and rested her head against his thigh.

'Jesus,' he said. 'Come back up here.' He opened his arms and she wriggled back up into them. 'That was fucking amazing.' He enclosed her in a hot, sweaty embrace and went to kiss her.

'I taste of you,' she murmured, in case he was squeamish about tasting his own cum.

'You do and now I want to taste of you.'

'But I want you here. I want to see your face when your cock is inside me.'

He slid his hands between her legs, parting her lips and sliding his fingers straight into her. Her insides tightened. 'How are you always so wet?' he asked. 'Because you turn me on so much. I get wet just thinking about you.' He slid his fingers out and through her slippery lips back to her clit.

'Are you sure this is ok?' he said.

'It's more than ok,' she moaned, opening her legs wider.

He began to circle her clit with his thumb lazily.

'I want you inside me though.' She reached down and felt his cock. 'Wow, you're hard again.'

'Only with you. You turn me on so much.' He reached back to the bedside table and pulled out a condom of the drawer. He slipped it on and then looked at her again.

'You're sure?' he asked.

'I'm positive. I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me.' Liv's voice was edged with lust and desperation. The need to have him fuck her was overwhelming.

He positioned the tip of his cock against her swollen, wet lips. He teased her first by pushing it gently against them until the tip finally slipped through and into her. She tensed as the broad tip slid in deeper. She still wasn't used to how big he was and it took her a few thrusts to relax again. He then rolled his hips so that the tip of his cock circled round just inside her. She could hear the soft squelch of her own wetness.

'You're being cruel,' she whimpered softly.

With that he grabbed her buttocks and pulled her onto him. She lay on top of him, her chest flush with his and her legs straddling his hips. He pulled out and then thrust into her again, this time giving her his whole length. His cock reached so far into her that it almost hurt.

He looked into her eyes. 'You want it like this?'

'Yes, like this,' she whispered back, gazing straight back at him.

They were lying facing each other and their foreheads were touching. She looked down and saw his broad cock, slick and shiny from her, sliding in and out of her. It was an incredible turn-on.

'God, that looks so good,' she whispered.

'And it feels so fucking good,' he answered between thrusts.

He began to pick up the pace and she felt his body tensing. 'Look at me,' he said, his breath ragged. 'I want to you to see you when I come.'
Chapter Nine

It was still dark when she felt Benedict peel away from her and climb out of bed. She sat up.

'Go back to sleep,' he said, leaning over to kiss her. 'I've got some work to do. I'll come and wake you up for breakfast.'

He used the light from his phone screen to find his way out of the room. In the inky dark, she turned over in the big soft bed and lay in the warm spot where he'd just been and fell back to sleep. When she woke up again, she could see sunshine bleeding round the edge of the curtains. She stretched her legs out in the bed and touched something - or someone. Benedict was sitting on the bed next to her. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans and his hair was wet.

'Morning, sleepy head,' he said smiling.

'What time is it,' she said, sitting up very quickly with the covers pulled to her chest. 'Is it late?'

'Don't worry, take your time. I just wanted to say that I should be finished with my work in about an hour and then we can go out.'

'Go out?' Liv wasn't sure where they'd left things. Were they going out with each other now? Or, despite everything that'd been said last night, was this strictly a one night stand? 'I'd like you to come and see my new flat with me. It's ready to move into today.' Liv's shoulders dropped with unexpected relief at hearing that he wanted her around. Maybe it wasn't just a one night stand after all. 'I'd love to come but I'm not sure where my clothes are.' She stopped as she realised what she'd said. 'God, I sound like a dirty stopout.'

Benedict laughed. 'I can safely say that you're both. I've left a few things for you over there,' he said, pointing to a pile of bags by the door to the bathroom. 'There's a latte and a croissant on the dressing table. I'll be back at 11. Shout if you need anything else.'

'Where will you be?'

'Downstairs in my office. If you go past the living room and keep going down the corridor, it's the door just after the library.'

She nodded and he got up to leave. When he got to the door, he stopped and turned around. He ran his hand through his hair and looked as if he was trying to find the right words to say something.

'Don't worry,' she said, sensing his worry. 'I'm fine. It's fine. I'm not freaking out. Well, I am freaking out a bit but in a good way. Are you ok?'

He looked relieved. 'I am now. I just wanted to be sure that you're ok with all this.' 'I am. Very. Are you?'

'I'm more than ok,' he smiled and opened the door. 'See you in an hour.'

Liv heard his footsteps on the stone floor outside and then disappearing down the stairs. She waited for a moment just in case he came back. When he didn't, she collapsed back into the bed. He was right in one way - she was freaking out but in a good way. Liv couldn't believe that she was here in Benedict's bed and they'd spent the night together. This time last week she'd never even heard of him, never mind shagged him on his sofa. In fact, this time last week sex was the last thing on her mind. And now it was all she could think about. She'd slept with someone, it was amazing and she wanted more. Now. For the past three years, she'd worried about what might happen if she ever had sex again. Would it be traumatic or painful? Would the world stop? Would she be struck down for enjoying herself? She hadn't been struck down but she did feel guilty, like she was cheating on Matt. She'd forever be his last girlfriend, the one that people thought of when they remembered him. The local paper had printed a picture of them. It'd been taken at a student ball when they'd only been together a few weeks. Liv was in a big 1950s prom dress and Matt was in his tux. They'd had to wait in a queue while other couples took turns to pose stiffly for the photographer. When it was their turn, Matt had lifted Liv up over his head on the spur of the moment. In the photo, Liv was desperately hanging on to her strapless dress and giggling. Matt was looking up at her with a cheeky smile on his face. That was how she'd always pictured him before that last night. Smiling and happy.

After Matt's last night, Liv had gone back over every little detail of their relationship, from their first ever conversation when they were tied together for a drinking game in Freshers' Week to the one they'd had before he'd gone out drinking that evening. Had she missed a tell-tale sign somewhere? Was his mad rage always in there, waiting for the right moment to come out? She doubted it but that didn't stop her from questioning everything. Other people questioned it too. If they were brave enough to talk to her straight after Matt's death (and a lot of them weren't), it was one of their first questions. Had she known all along? Liv resented the suggestion that she'd known about, and had even put up with, his violent behaviour. It made her angry on Matt's behalf – he'd never been anything but sweet and respectful to her and now people were casting him as psycho. It also made her furious on her own behalf too. She felt that people were blaming her for being a victim.

Luckily not everyone was as tactless. Kate and Tim were always careful to talk about Matt as a victim of chance. He'd obviously not known that cocaine and booze could be so lethal together. It was a tragedy all round and no one was to blame, even if it was hard to understand or accept his actions. The best thing they did was include Liv in everyday life. They carried on talking about normal stuff - the feud with the neighbours over parking spaces, the shame of Daphne being repeatedly humped by a Chihuahua on the Downs and Granny's happy face after fillers ('Her hamster cheeks have pulled the corners of her mouth up into a smile. People think she's smiling at them and they're smiling back. She's absolutely livid.'). Slowly things had gone back to normal, though when the family asked how she was, their question was a bit more loaded than it used to be. Of all of them, Rufus had been the one who couldn't move on from it. After Matt's death, he'd become very protective of her. At first, she'd loved him keeping her company at home and checking in to see if she was ok when he was at work. After all, he'd been the one to save her. He made her feel safe. But after a while, she'd started to feel suffocated by him. Sometimes she didn't want him there. She itched to be by herself or with someone else completely. She really didn't like him walking her to wherever she was going and then waiting for her outside. What'd seemed kind and comforting at the beginning had become, if she was being totally honest, slightly creepy. She didn't need a chaperone but Rufus wouldn't listen. He liked being her replacement boyfriend too much to stop.

Overnight all that had shifted. For the past three years, she'd struggle to define herself on her own terms. The police and the press had branded her a victim. Then, Rufus had done his best to keep her that way. It suited him to think she was defenceless and vulnerable. Today, though, she was finally in control of herself. And more important than that was an overwhelming sense of being normal again. Liv was just another twentysomething with a slight hangover and stubble burn in a strange bed. She liked the fact that thousands of other women would be doing exactly the same thing on any given weekend. Just like them, she was wondering what, if anything, would happen with Benedict. She had no idea and, for a change, that was exciting. After being paralysed by the idea that terrible things could happen to you at any given minute, meeting Benedict had proved that good things could just as easily happen as bad ones. The good things didn't change the past but they made it a bit easier to let go of it. She'd known it was time to leave Matt behind for a while now but she'd pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She didn't want him to be forgotten, whatever he'd done to her. He'd been her first proper boyfriend and she'd loved him. Liv often wondered if they'd still be together if he hadn't died. She liked to think that they'd have got engaged and then married somewhere done the line. In her mind's eye, she could see him carrying a mini version of himself on his shoulders. A big, solid toddler with his dad's angelic blonde curls and her olive skin. Now that she'd met someone else, Liv couldn't hold onto that fantasy anymore. Her makebelieve future, where all the bad bits had been edited out, was being rewritten and she couldn't help feeling sad.

Liv lay there for a moment longer, the covers still pulled up to her chin, thinking about all of this. A tear for Matt slide down one side of her face and rolled into her ear. She turned to rub her wet ear into the pillow and saw from the clock on the bedside table that it was already 10.20am. Benedict would be back at 11 and she hadn't even had a shower yet. She sprang up in panic, threw off the bed covers and ran over to the bathroom. It was then that she saw the bags Benedict had left for her. She crouched down and saw that there were two from SpaceNK. Inside one was a Clarisonic facial brush with lots of cleansing and moisturising products from Sisley and Chantecaille. Feeling like the best Christmas ever had come early, she looked inside the other bag and gasped when she saw boxes from By Terry, Kevin Aucoin and Nars. There was also a bottle of perfume by Tom Ford and some gorgeous hair products. Excited to see what other amazing things might be in the other bags, she emptied them out onto the bed. Out tumbled a pair of baby pink shimmery Birkenstock, a beautiful silk summer dress and some La Perla underwear. The knickers were made of nude silk with little wisps of lace holding them together at the sides. They were virtually see-through but very elegant. She picked up the matching bandeau bra carefully and it weighed almost nothing in her hands.

When Benedict came back at 11, she was sitting at the dressing table in her new underwear applying her usual flick of black eyeliner. He came over and hugged her from behind, kissing her gently on ear. 'You look beautiful.' She reached up and kissed him back.

'Anyone would look beautiful in all these amazing things! How did you know what to buy?' She'd been wondering about this as he'd only really seen her a couple of times but he'd managed to nail her style, though admittedly a luxe version of it. Her whole wardrobe probably cost as much as the bra and pants.

'I rang up a personal shopper at Harvey Nicks and told them that I wanted an outfit for someone who likes vintage clothes. A Roman Holiday kind of vibe. With a healthy German shoe thrown in.'

'Yeah, Audrey Hepburn but with bad feet,' she laughed. She walked over to the bed to get the dress. Benedict was right behind her.

'We could just stay here this morning,' he said, curling his hands around her hips and kissing the base of her neck.

'We could but then we wouldn't get to see your new place.'

'Mmm, stay in bed with you,' he murmured, nuzzling her neck and reaching up to gently squeeze her breast through the delicate lace, 'or go and see an empty flat.' He pressed himself against her and she felt the hardness of his cock against her back. 'I'd love to stay here and fuck you all day but the furniture is being delivered at midday and I need to be there to tell them where to put it. Can we come back later and pick up where we left off?'

'Only if you promise to fuck me more than once. I can't think about anything else.'

'That's a deal but we're going to have to wait till this goes down,' he said, nodding at his cock. 'You'd better get dressed otherwise I'm going to have trouble walking.'

She laughed and picked up the dress from the bed. It was knee length, white with a blue geometric print and had a drawstring neck. The fabric was ridiculously soft. Liv imagined women in Rome wore dresses just as delicate and pretty as this, the white of the fabric extra bright against their brown bare shoulders. She probably wouldn't do it justice but she stepped into anyway. It glided over her skin like a silky film. Just like the underwear, it weighed virtually nothing. Benedict tied the drawstring.

'You look beautiful,' he said again, planting a small kiss there at the base of her neck. 'So you keep telling me.'

'Just take the compliment.'

'I will. Thank you. And you look pretty hot yourself.' He was wearing some light blue distressed biker jeans and a faded green surfing t-shirt. The jeans, she noticed, were Balmain.

'Ready?'

She slipped on her new Birkenstock and they headed down the stairs.

Liv was expecting to walk but a long, sleek black car was waiting for them on the drive. A driver hopped out and held the door open for them. He was taller and a lot older than Benedict and was wearing a sharp charcoal suit.

'Morning, sir, madam,' he said as they climbed in.

'Morning, Trevor,' said Benedict. 'This is Miss Russo.'

'Hi,' she said shyly, raising her hand to give him a little awkward wave.

He nodded solemnly and closed the door behind them.

'Do you always have a driver?' she asked as she sank back into the plush seat and ran her hands over the cool leather.

'Mostly, especially if I'm on the way to a meeting or a place where it's difficult to park. It's more time efficient to have Trevor take me.'

He laced the fingers of one hand through hers while he scrolled through his emails on his phone with the other. They'd not been in the car for thirty seconds when he dropped her hand and started typing furiously on his phone. He kept typing until the car drew to a stop outside a building just near the suspension bridge. The building looked like it had been transplanted from a Parisian boulevard. It was five stories high and three times as wide. It had a boxy dark grey roof with high arched windows, where you could just imagine French chambermaids sleeping after a hard day's work. Trevor came round to let them out.

'I thought this was a hotel,' Liv said, looking up at the tall, imposing building as she climbed out.

'It was but now it's all flats,' said Benedict leading her through the columned entrance to the reception.

'Sir,' said a concierge behind a desk, acknowledging Benedict as they walked past.

Benedict nodded back and kept on walking to the bank of lifts. They waited in silence for the lift to arrive. Liv began to worry that something was wrong, that he was regretting bringing her here.

'Are you sure you want me to come with you? I can go home if you'd like. It's no problem...'

Benedict cut her off. 'Why would I want you to do that?'

'You seem tense. Maybe you'd prefer to do this by yourself. I don't mind if you do.' She tried to sound light and casual.

Benedict sighed and raked his hand through his hair. His expression changed from slightly irritated and distant to something softer and more human. 'Sorry. It's not you or this. I've just read some emails going back and forth with my lawyer in Paris. Nathalie's now saying that she wants to get Lola back. She says she's willing to get an approved nanny to move in and keep an eye on her.'

'Shit, what does your lawyer say?' Liv was relieved for herself – he did want her here after all - but felt sorry for Benedict.

'She's rejecting the idea based on the number of times Nathalie has relapsed and the likelihood she'll do it again. It'll have to go back before the judge now.'

The lift arrived and they stepped inside. Benedict pressed the button for the top floor and then punched a code into a key pad on the panel. Liv went to stand beside him. She didn't know what else to do or say. It was a weird situation. She'd slept in his bed last night but she didn't know him well enough to know how to comfort him. Did he even want to be comforted? She knew that she might in this situation but what he wanted was a mystery.

Should she take his hand or hug him? Or take the stiff-upper lip English approach? In the end, she opted for the middle ground.

'Look, why don't you call your lawyer and talk about it? Maybe it'll help to know all the details otherwise you'll have a horrible weekend of worrying.' It was already Friday lunchtime and France was one hour closer to the weekend.

He scratched his cheek while he thought about it. 'I suppose I could. But what about you?'

The lift stopped and the doors slid open. They stepped out into a long white hallway with double doors at each end and two more in front of them. The ceilings were even higher than the ones in Cheltenham Terrace and you could probably fit Liv's whole flat into the hallway. Liv ticked a few more boxes in her mental checklist of clichéd things that rich people should have. Driver? Check. Rambling period mansion? Check. Penthouse apartment with its own lift? Check. All he needed was a helipad on the roof and his own pet tiger and he'd score a perfect 100 percent.

'Don't worry about me,' said Liv, taking in the space. 'I probably need to give India a ring and let her know that I'm still alive. I could do with ringing my parents too.'

'Okay. If the furniture turns up and I'm on the phone will you let them in? And tell them where to put things? I'll show you round quickly.'

He pushed open the doors at one end of the corridor. Liv peered inside. It was a massive white room. Everything was white – the walls, the floor, the cloud shaped light hanging from the white ceiling. It was lucky the white blinds were down otherwise the light bouncing off every white surface would have blinded her. One entire wall was filled with flush white cupboards. There were no handles on the doors and without the huge coiled tap, the kind you see in a proper restaurant kitchen, sticking up from an island in the middle of the room, Liv would have struggled to work out what kind of room it was at all.

The living room and three bedrooms were much the same – massive, empty and white. Only the last room, the one set aside to be an office, looked different. It had a spiral staircase in one corner.

'That goes up to the roof terrace but wait for me before you go up,' said Benedict. 'I want to see that with you.' Liv wondered if he did have a helipad up there after all. 'I'll take the kitchen if you want to stay in here?'

Benedict headed out of the door and pulled it closed behind him.

Liv sat down on the floor in a sunny spot in front of the window and crossed her legs. Despite being lacquered to a cold, brilliant white, the wide wooden boards were warm under her bottom. And the view was amazing. You could see out across Clifton, over the tall terraces with lush green squares in between. She pulled her phone out of her bag.

Three texts from India and one missed call from her mum. She called India first.

'Liv!' India yelled down the phone. 'Oh my God. I've been waiting for you to call all morning. Where are you? Is he there? Did you shag him?'

Liv laughed. 'I'm at his new flat, he's here but on the phone in another room and yes, if you must know, I did shag him. More than once.'

India whooped and then Liv heard her take a drag on a cigarette. 'So, how was it? Is he a good shag? He looks like he'd be a phenomenal shag.'

Liv's cheeks went red even though she knew India couldn't see her. 'He is ... it was... amazing.'

'Oh my God, you're in love!' India squealed.

'Don't be stupid,' Liv shot back, 'I've only just met him and he's the first guy since Matt so...' She trailed off.

'Yeah, shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so full-on.' India sounded sheepish.

'Don't worry. I think it's actually helped with the Matt thing. I kind of feel that I'm finally moving on.'

'That's brilliant, Liv, I'm really glad for you. You so totally deserve it.'

'Thanks.' Liv paused for a second, unsure whether she should ask her next question or not. 'Do you know how Rufus is?'

'God, don't worry about him. He'll be fine. He's got me, Mum and Dad running round after him like a spoilt toddler. Just concentrate on having a good time.'

'Ok,' Liv said uncertainly. 'Will you be around this weekend?'

'Nah, I thought I'd go down to Cornwall with Mum and Dad. You know, rally round Ruf a bit. Mum's told him that you're seeing Benedict.'

'Shit. Why did she do that? I'm not even sure I'm seeing him yet!'

'Oh come on, Liv. We all saw the way he looked at you. And sent you flowers. I know that your sister didn't send them, by the way. And anyway, he spoke to Mum on the way to the restaurant. Said he wanted to take you out and promised he'd be a gentleman.'

'What did Kate say to that?' Liv could only imagine what insanity Kate had come back with.

'Apparently, she said that she hoped he would look after you but that he'd be anything but a gentleman in bed. She categorically insisted that he, and I quote here, 'give you a good seeing to'.' India cackled and Liv felt mortified that everyone was discussing her sex life.

'I'm surprised she didn't give him a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey with all her favourite positions marked out.'

'Or a rampant rabbit and an industrial jar of lube.'

'Your mum is something else. I can't imagine my mum ever even knowing what a rampant rabbit is let alone buying me one. I'm meant to be saving myself for my wedding night.' This was true. Liv's mother expected her to stay a virgin till she got married. Her mum insisted that everyone did this in her part of Italy though Liv never saw any evidence of it. In fact, she'd seen more than one of her cousins trying to hide a serious bump under forgiving empire line wedding dresses.

'Yeah, Mum's a nutter. Give her a call, though. She's desperate to hear all about it.' 'I'll try. Say 'hi' from me and tell her that I'm ok.'

'Sure. See you Sunday?'

The buzzer rang loudly through the empty flat. 'I've got to go. See you Sunday.'

The delivery guys were fast. A huge L-shaped sofa, three beds, one desk, a dining table and chairs were all brought up and unpacked in no time. Judging by the deliveries, Benedict had a thing for mid-century Scandinavian design. It all fitted in well with the minimalist space. When the delivery guys asked where to put the garden furniture, Liv was nonplussed. There was no garden. They were on the top floor. She vaguely remembered Benedict saying something about a roof terrace so she pointed to the spiral stairs in the corner. The guys were struggling to get huge sun loungers up the tight windy staircase when Benedict appeared in the doorway.

'You haven't been up there, have you?' he asked.

'No.'

'Good. We'll wait till they're all done and then we'll go up.'

The buzzer went again and Benedict disappeared to answer it. He came back holding paper bags and a handful of cutlery.

'Right, let's eat.' And he dashed up the staircase.

Liv followed him and as she got closer to the top she saw that the ceiling and walls up here were all glass. It looked like a little glass hut had been built on the roof. When she got to the last step she saw that the little hut opened out onto a huge roof terrace. The view was incredible. She spun round a full 360 degrees and got an uninterrupted view of the city. She could see everything – from the hills at Dundry to the bridge, which was so close that she could see the faces of the tourists standing on it.

'Wow, this is just amazing,' she said, turning round to find Benedict. He was busy unpacking boxes from the white bags onto a table.

'I thought we'd celebrate moving in here with some lunch. Your favourite lunch. Do you mind eating out of the boxes? I haven't unpacked any plates yet.'

'God, no, I don't mind. That's so sweet of you. Thank you.'

He'd even ordered her favourite San Pellegrino aranciata, the fizzy orange stuff in the cans, that reminded her of her summers in Italy when she was little.

'What's that?' Liv asked, pointing to a polystyrene box on the table.

'That's the ice cream from that gelato place on College Green. I wasn't sure what you liked so I got all the Italian-sounding ones and some salted caramel for me.'

'I might have to fight you for it. I love salted caramel. And I fight dirty.'

He gave her a half smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Liv could tell his mind was somewhere else.

They chose to sit on big cushions on a rug and shared the food in silence. His expression was hidden behind his sunglasses.

'Are you ok?' she asked, when they'd finished the ice cream.

'Sorry, I'm distracted by all this stuff in Paris.' He fiddled with the label on his bottle of mineral water.

'Did it help speaking to your lawyer?'

'Yeah, I suppose. She thinks that the judge might favour me over Nathalie but she might prefer Lola to stay in France. Lola speaks English so she'd be ok here but uprooting her might be too traumatic.'

Liv wasn't sure what to say. The judge had a point. Lola had lost her father and then been neglected by her mother. Now she was living with strangers somewhere new. Bringing her to Bristol might be one step too far. She was only five, after all. Liv reached across the jumble of their lunch and took his hand.

'I know that whatever happens you'll do everything you can for Lola. And there are probably solutions to this that no one's thought of yet. I'm sure your lawyers will come up with a few if you give them some time. There's always a loophole somewhere.'

'Thanks,' he said looking up at her. 'I know what it's like to be abandoned by your mum and I just don't want Lola to go through that.'

Kate had made the odd negative comment about Benedict's mum but Liv didn't really know much beyond the fact that she'd left and never come back. She was itching to ask him now but wasn't sure if she should. Benedict was obviously weighing up the same thing too as, after a long silence, he pushed his sunglasses up onto his head and stared at the bridge in the distance.

'When I was six and my brother was two, my mum left my dad. She moved to New York with some rich guy she'd met at the gym. They'd been having an affair for a few months and then she just left one day, leaving a letter for my dad telling him that she'd be in touch. We came home from school that afternoon and that was it. We never saw her again. She wrote us cards for Christmas and our birthdays for the first few years and then she stopped altogether.' He paused and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. 'I just couldn't understand why she never came back for us or why she hadn't taken us with her in the first place. But once she'd gone, it was like we never existed.' Liv scooted across from her cushion to his.

'My dad was overwhelmed – he was never good at being on his own or looking after little kids – so he left it to the nanny to bring us up at first. Luckily, Nanny had been with us for a few years already and I loved her and she was devoted to us. My granny and grandpa offered to take us in. That would have been great. They absolutely adored each other and were amazing with us. I never wanted to go home when we went to visit them. But my granny had a stroke that left her paralysed down one side. She couldn't talk either so that was that. In the end, my dad decided we should stay with him in Bristol.' He paused to gulp down some water.

'Ampfield was always home and I thought I'd love living there again when I inherited it from Dad. But I don't. I was so nostalgic about that house but when I moved in, I realised that what I wanted was that feeling of being loved unconditionally by my parents before everything went wrong. I can't wait to get rid of the house now.'

'You're selling Ampfield?'

'Yeah, I can't stand being there. And plus, it's just too big and old. I don't really like old. You might have noticed that downstairs.'

'Yeah, I can hardly work out which room is the kitchen and which is the bathroom.'

He laughed. 'You'd better work it out before you need to use the loo.'

Liv elbowed him in mock disgust. 'If you find me squatting in the kitchen sink, then it might be time to revise the minimalism.' She wondered how a little girl would fit in here, especially on the terrace five floors up. The whole place was a death trap for small kids.

'You're thinking about Lola living here, aren't you?' he asked. She nodded, wondering how he could so easily read her mind. 'I decided to move in here before this whole thing with Nathalie blew up. I might have to rethink if the court case goes my way.'

'Would you take her back to Ampfield?'

'No, I think we all need a fresh start. I'll probably keep this place and find somewhere bigger and closer to the ground. Maybe over the bridge.' They both looked at the hills just across the gorge. Liv found her favourite house. It was the big one that looked like a Victorian ski chalet. It was a strange house to find in the middle of an English city. When she was little, she used to think that it was the kind of house that Heidi lived in up a mountain in Switzerland. It would be perfect for a small girl.

Benedict stood up abruptly and started putting all the empty food boxes back into the bags.

'I'm going to go surfing this weekend and I'd like you to come with me.'

As curveballs went, this one was fairly good. He'd skipped from childhood trauma to surfing in one step. It caught Liv on the back foot.

'Er, I don't know how to surf and plus I don't really want to go in the water while my skin's still sore.'

'Shit, good point. I hadn't thought of that. Would you come along anyway and hang out on the beach?'

Liv pictured bombing down to Newquay and sitting on a windy beach while Benedict went off and disappeared into the surf. That bit didn't exactly sound like fun but the idea of Benedict dressed in a skin-tight wetsuit clinched it. She could have a good letch behind her sun glasses. It sounded perfect.

'I'd love to.'

'Great, then we'll need to swing by your place and get your passport.'

'I didn't know you had to show your passport to go to Newquay.'

He rolled his eyes. 'I go down to South Western France. Didn't someone tell me that you were super intelligent?'

'They were lying. I'm actually quite dim.' She stood up and brushing the crumbs off her lap. 'What time's the flight?'

'Whenever we like though I thought we'd leave Bristol by about 3 so that we'd get there while it's still light.'

'We've established that I'm a bit dim but don't we have to actually book a specific flight? And be there at a specific time?'

'Not if you've got your own plane.' He said it in a matter of fact way with no hint of smugness or arrogance.

Of course he had his own bloody plane, thought Liv. He owned at least two places in the most expensive part of Bristol. And he might buy another bigger one if he needed it. Just like that. No scraping together a deposit by living with your parents for years like a stunted teenager. India'd said he was minted but Liv thought she meant minted on the same level as Kate and Tim. Inherited money, private school education for their kids and second house in Cornwall bought back in the old days before you needed to be a Russian oligarch to buy a broom cupboard in London. Benedict's wealth was in a whole different league. He had houses, chauffeurs and now planes. No wonder dropping £700 on a phone for her seemed like nothing to him. It was nothing to him. In Liv's world, it was probably like finding a forgotten £5 note in an old handbag.

'I know it seems extravagant to have your own plane but for me it's a necessity,' he said, seeing Liv's surprise. 'I need the flexibility to get to lots of different places at short notice. I have business interests in Europe and the States plus it means I can squeeze in a bit of surfing here and there.'

'What kind of business interests do you have? I thought you were in property.'

'I started out in property like my dad. When I took over the portfolio I diversified into entertainment and media. We've got restaurants, hotels and the odd TV channel, alongside the basic property acquisition and management.'

'Christ,' Liv whispered. 'And you run it all?'

'Well, I could lie and say it's just me but we have offices and execs in every country where we have assets. I'm just the CEO.'

'When did you take over from your dad?'

'About six years ago, when Nathalie got pregnant. He wanted to spend more time at home. My brother Bruno was too young and seriously couldn't give a fuck anyway. He's more interested in motocross and weed. It seemed logical for me to take over. I'd always been involved in some minor way since I'd left school and I think Dad thought it might give me some focus after my wilderness years.'

'Wilderness years?' Liv couldn't imagine Benedict being anything other than successful and focused.

'That's one for later,' he said, heading to the stairs with the wreckage of their lunch in his hands. 'We need to hurry up if we're going to get there this evening.'
Chapter Ten

The flat was empty. And, best of all, it was tidy. Kate had been in with her marigolds and, for once, Liv didn't mind. She didn't want to pretend she was some sort of domestic goddess (he'd find out the truth soon enough if he opened her bedroom door) but she also didn't want Benedict to think she lived in a complete tip. She left him studying India's canvases in the unusually clean living room and went to throw some stuff into her overnight bag.

'India's really talented,' said Benedict. He was standing in front of one of India's massive canvases that was propped against the living room wall. 'Has she exhibited before?'

'Only her graduation show. She's a bit weird like that. She's uncomfortable with the idea of selling her work.'

Benedict leaned in to study the detail up close. 'I know a couple of people who'd love to show her stuff. I might buy one for my flat too.'

When Liv texted India from the car to say that she'd be away for the weekend, she casually dropped in the fact that Benedict wanted to buy a painting and knew some people who'd love her stuff too. India's text back was predictably sweary. Liv showed Benedict. 'No one swears like a private school girl,' he said laughing. 'They're worse than Glaswegian dockers.'

'Excuse me,' she huffed, 'are you're including me in that?'

'I certainly am, Miss Fuck Me Harder,' he shot back. 'I'm not complaining. I'm just saying that in my experience the better educated a woman is, the more she swears.'

'And that experience would be extensive, would it?'

'Depends what you mean by extensive.'

She wasn't sure she wanted to know just how experienced Benedict was.

'Are we talking double, triple or quadruple digits?'

'Christ, what do you think I am? A total manwhore?'

She shrugged, trying to maintain her air of nonchalance. 'You're very defensive so I'm guessing somewhere between 20 and 50.'

'You can guess all you like but I'm saying nothing. I'm not going to ask you how many people you've slept with either. I'm a gentleman, plus I'd get really jealous.'

'Ah, but Kate says that gentlemen are repressed and bourgeois. 'Sex is nothing to be embarrassed about. It is to be celebrated and enjoyed.'' She imitated Kate's plummy tones.

'Repressed and bourgeois? Well, let's see how enlightened you are, Miss Liberated.' He pressed a button on the console between their seats. An opaque glass screen slid up between them and Trevor in the driver's seat. With the blackout windows and now the screen, they were in their own private bubble. Benedict slipped off his seat and knelt between her legs. He leant in and kissed lazily her on the mouth. With one hand he gently pushed her dress up to her waist and peeled her delicate knickers down with the other. She lifted her hips up to help him get them off. Just the slightest stroke of his fingertips against her skin sparked the electricity between them. Her skin tingled where he'd touched her. Still kissing her, his tongue slowly swirling around hers, he slid his hand between her legs. She instinctively spread them to let him in. She wanted him inside her, to pull him in like a magnet sucking in hard metal. Then he parted her lips with a finger and dipped it inside her to wet it.

'How are you so wet already?' he murmured in surprise.

'You just turn me on so much,' she whispered back, embarrassed by her body's eagerness for sex with him. 'I can't help it.'

'I don't want you to help it. I love it.'

Liv heard the wetness on his finger when he slowly pulled it out. He trailed it up through her swollen lips to her clit. With his other hand, he pulled her lips apart to expose the cushioned nub. Then, gently at first, his finger began to circle it, finding the very sensitive tip hidden in its velvety folds of flesh. She groaned into his mouth and tipped her hips towards him, wanting more. When he moved his finger away, she was bereft for a second before she realised where he was going. He slipped his finger back inside her and circled it, going deeper with each circle. He was pulling her wider and she responded by stretching her legs even further and bucking against his finger. When he slipped in another finger and curled them both to press against her sensitive spot, it was almost too much.

'Oh fuck, that's good,' she gasped. Her insides tightened hard round his fingers. 'Don't stop.'

He stopped and she snapped her eyes open to look at him.

'Wait,' he said, sliding his fingers in and out a few times before he found that hypersensitive spot again. This time he kept his fingers in there and started rubbing her clit with his thumb. The unmistakeable building of pleasure between her legs made her squirm.

'You're going to make me come,' she groaned, clawing the seat with one hand and curling the other round his neck.

'That's the idea,' he laughed.

'But I want you inside me.'

'Later.'

'No, now.'

She wasn't going to wait. She didn't want to be told what to do when she knew exactly what she wanted. She needed his cock inside her now, not when he decided it was time. She pushed him away and then slid forward on the seat until her knees touched the floor. She turned around. 'Fuck me from behind. Now.'

There was silence for a moment and then Benedict said: 'Ok, fuck it. How can I say no to that?' He raked his fingers up and down her thighs and back, admiring the view for a few seconds, before reaching for a condom in his wallet. Liv trembled with anticipation when she heard the rustle of the wrapper. She couldn't wait to have him inside her, for him to fill her up completely. Each sensation and tiny movement racked up the anticipation. She felt him press his warm bare thighs against the back of hers. She felt his fingers grip her hips. Finally she felt him ease her back onto his cock until her arse was just touching his stomach. Benedict groaned as his cock sank in all the way.

'Fuck, that feels good.'

Liv moaned too; she loved the way he completely filled her. His thick, solid cock stretched her so wide that it almost hurt and she didn't care. She wanted to feel that pain. It made her feel alive and incredibly turned on. Unable to wait for him to fuck her, she slid backwards and forwards, keeping him shallow inside her. The swollen tip of his cock rubbed against the most sensitive spot just inside her. She moaned from the exquisite sensation. Benedict reached round her and found her clit again. He only had to circle round it for a few seconds until she came. She slammed back against him, her insides rippling hard against his cock. She kept pushing back into him as each wave hit her and he held firm to keep the full length of his cock in her. With her face pressed into the seat and her eyes squeezed shut, she was lost in her own black hole of ecstasy.

She didn't have time to fully recover before Benedict started pumping her with full, long strokes. After her own orgasm, she was so sensitive that everything felt amazing. The plump, engorged tip of his cock when it first entered her. The broad, hard rock shaft that followed it, driving into her and banging against the very end of her. Liv could hear that Benedict was getting close too. He had that hitch in his short breaths that told her that it was almost too much pleasure for his cock. He had to pull back, his thrusts shorter and shallower until he couldn't stand it anymore. With one last final full thrust he came, pulling her upright against his stomach and circling her in a tight hug as he jerked into her. His fingers dug into her as he rode each spurt of cum. When the spasms finally stopped, he slowly uncurled his fingers and let out a huge, exhausted breath.

'Phew, that was amazing,' he said, kissing the base of her neck. 'I'm not sure I'm going to make it up the steps to the plane now. My legs are like jelly.' He glanced out of the window. 'We're almost there. We should sort ourselves out.'

They pulled apart and gingerly slipped back into their seats. Liv was feeling shaky too. Her knees ached from the hard floor and her thighs had been pummelled by Benedict's hips. He handed her a handkerchief from his trouser pocket. Then he peeled off the condom, tied a knot in it and balled it up into a tissue. Liv dried herself, fished her knickers off the floor and wriggled back into them. Then they held hands and looked out of the window in a daze as the car turned into the airport.

Benedict rested his head back in his seat. 'I need a nap after that,' he murmured. 'Maybe we can lie down on the plane.'

Liv only ever travelled economy so the idea of a nap didn't sound that great. Sitting bolt upright in a narrow seat, sandwiched between two overweight people with small bladders and body odour, sleep wasn't really an option. There was always a kid in the row behind too, who spent the whole flight viciously kicking the back of her seat. All in all, she couldn't think of a less relaxing place for a nap. Once she stepped inside Benedict's plane, though, a nice doze was easier to imagine. The main cabin, where they sat for take-off, was surprisingly spacious. There was a long cream leather and dark wood banquette on one side and a couple of cream leather armchairs round a dark wooden table on the other. The whole thing was fitted out in tasteful shades of cream and dark brown, like the office of someone high powered executive.

Liv followed Benedict and sat down at the table.

'I've got a bit of work I need to do. Is that ok?' He unpacked a briefcase full of files and his laptop onto the table.

'Yeah, of course.' Liv decided to sit back and enjoy the experience. She settled into her deep, soft seat and looked out of the window. Every so often, she looked over at Benedict. He blasted his way through a stack of files. He flicked through each one with a frown, making furious notes in the margins, and then dropped it on the growing pile on the floor by his chair. Before long, he'd finished the lot. He slipped his ink pen back into his jacket pocket and stood up.

'I'm done for now. Shall we go and lie down?'

Liv got up, more than happy to sleep. She just wasn't sure where though. The banquette looked comfortable but hardly big enough for both of them to lie on. Suddenly she had flashbacks to the nights she'd spent with Matt in his single bed in his halls of residence, either squashed against a bare, breeze block wall or staying half-awake so she could cling onto the outside edge and not fall out. She was relieved when Benedict led her through a door at the back of the cabin into a little corridor. They went through the first side door they came to. Inside was a neat little bedroom in the same cream and dark wood scheme. There was a double bed in the centre of the room and the blinds on the little windows were down ready for sleep. It was perfect.

'I'm just going to check something with the crew and I'll be right back. Make yourself at home.' Benedict disappeared down the corridor.

Liv sat down on the bed and took off her Birkenstock. When she flopped back, she realised just how tired she was, both mentally and physically. There was a lot of new stuff to take in and her brain was struggling to process it all. And she was literally shagged out. Her body wasn't used to all the action it was getting. It was achy and sore in all kinds of unexpected places. With Benedict she'd gone from zero to 100 over night. Yesterday she'd gone out for dinner and here she was, less than 24 hours later, flying to France with her new boyfriend. In his own plane. That was a hell of a leap for anyone but especially for someone who'd been out of the dating loop for such a long time. Images from the last day swirled round her head – the living room in Ampfield, Benedict naked on top of her, the four-poster bed, lunch on the roof terrace and now this plane. Just thinking about it all was exhausting. Luckily the bed here was really comfortable, unlike the saggy old four-poster, and Liv let the tension slip from her arms and legs. She turned onto her side and burrowed into the pillow and soft covers. The drone of the plane and the low light in the room had her drifting off to sleep very quickly. In her snoozy state, she heard the soft click as the door opened but she didn't have the energy to move or speak. Then she felt the mattress dip as Benedict lay down next to her. He came in to spoon her from behind and draped his arm over her waist. She could feel his warm breath in her hair and the slow rise and fall of his chest against her. Safely cocooned by him, Liv slipped into a deep sleep.

Sometime later, just how long she didn't know, she was woken up by a knock at the door.

'Mr Cassel, just to let you know that we're due to land in twenty minutes.'

Benedict groaned and rolled over to onto his back. 'Thanks,' he called out. He sat up and rubbed his face. 'We'd better get up.'
Chapter Eleven

Benedict's house sat at the end of a road that wound its way through a pine grove. None of the other houses on the street were visible; they were all hidden behind tall white walls and locked gates. Benedict's was no different. His low-slung Mercedes rolled to a stop at a gate and waited for it to open. The gate, made of solid redwood, slid back slowly to reveal something out of an architecture magazine. Where Ampfield was all arches, curves and colour, this house was all concrete, angles and glass. She'd never say this to Benedict was Liv's first impression was that it looked like one concrete shoe box stacked on top of another. The top box was slightly wider than the lower one, creating an overhang on one side. There were a few panels of slatted redwood that softened the grey concrete but basically the house was something that Liv thought would be cool to have but not that comfortable to live in.

'You weren't kidding about liking minimalism.' Liv peered up out of the car window to take in the house.

'Yeah, you can see why I don't really like Ampfield. It's so dark and claustrophobic compared to this place.'

They climbed out of the air-conditioned car to find that it was a lovely warm evening. The air was heavy with the scent of pine trees and the sea, which sounded like it was close by. There was that tell-tale sound of cicadas that Liv associated with holidays. She wanted to stay outside a bit longer and enjoy the heat, to let her body warm up and relax, but Benedict was keen to show her around. Like his flat in Bristol, the house was all tall, wide open spaces. There was very little furniture to block the view straight through from the glass walls at the front to the glass walls at the back. The smooth walls were all crisp white. The only colour came from a deep turquoise velvet sofa in what she guessed was the living area. It was mirrored by the turquoise swimming pool she could see through the enormous plate glass wall at the back.

Liv turned round on the spot, admiring the house. 'This is amazing.'

'Thank you, though the architect should get the praise and not me.'

'Do I win any prizes for guessing where the kitchen is?'

'Definitely. It's even less obvious than the one in my flat.'

Liv walked further into the house towards a long table with a polished concrete top and cork and metal benches underneath it.

'Right, so if this is the dining room, then that must be the kitchen?' She pointed to the blank white wall behind the table. You could just make out the shallow grooves of floor-toceiling panels that lined it.

'Could be,' said Benedict, walking to the panels and pressing gently on the one in the middle. The panels smoothly slid back and there, hidden behind them, was a complete galley kitchen running the entire length of the wall.

'You really can't like cooking if you've hidden your kitchen in a cupboard,' Liv joked.

'I'm not usually here long enough to do any. I get my housekeeper to sort the food out for me.' He opened the door of a huge industrial fridge and peered inside. 'Marine has stocked up for us so there should be plenty to eat. Just take whatever you like. I'm going to head down to the beach before it gets dark and then we could have dinner afterwards. Would you like to come or stay here? No pressure either way.'

Liv wanted to wash off that invisible film of travelling grime on her skin before she went anywhere. 'Can I have a shower and then follow you down to the beach?'

'Sure. All the rooms should be self-explanatory upstairs. Once you're done, there's a gate at the back of the garden. Go through that and you're straight onto the beach. I'll see you down there.'

Upstairs was just as striking as downstairs. There was an open area at the top of the stairs with another sofa and views out to the balcony and the garden. She padded across the soft rubber floor to a little corridor at one end. It led to a row of bedrooms and bathrooms. The bedrooms were, unsurprisingly, all glass and white walls. No curtains, just louvered redwood panels on the outside that flipped down to block out the light when you pressed a button. The bathrooms looked like something out of a minimalist bible – freestanding stone baths, polished concrete floors and a simple glass wall for the shower.

At the other end of the living area there was another door. This one opened onto a large office. It filled a whole corner of the top floor. There were glass walls on three sides and just a trestle-style desk with a polished concrete top sat in the middle with a dark red leather Eames office chair. Looking round this exposed glass box, she suddenly felt sorry for the housekeeper, Marine. Imagine cleaning those endless windows. At least Marine didn't have endless knickknacks to deal with. Liv hadn't seen one ornament, photo or plant in the whole place. Liv couldn't deny that the house was impressive but it didn't have any warmth to it. It made her feel sad for Benedict. He had all the trappings of a privileged life but it was just a shell. All the important stuff, the stuff inside, was missing.

Liv found her bag in the furthest bedroom at the other end of the top floor. Before she hit the shower, she slid back the glass wall to let the air in. It seemed a shame to have the air con on when the air outside was so warm and lovely. She peeled her dress off and sat on a chair on the balcony. She closed her eyes and savoured the heat. The sun was still strong enough to beam straight through to her tired bones and warm her up from the inside. She was disturbed by a bang from downstairs so she got up to peer over the edge of the balcony. Benedict was standing on the grass. He was wearing a wetsuit and holding a surf board under one arm. In the wetsuit he looked even more incredible that usual. It clung to every muscle and magnified just how athletic he was. His back formed a perfect V and his legs looked hard and defined. She wolf whistled. He looked up and grinned, his green eyes catching the evening sun.

'Not so bad yourself either,' he called up, seeing that Liv was only wearing her delicate lace bra and knickers. 'I'd better go now otherwise I'll just want to come up and ravish you.' He turned and ran barefoot to the end of the garden and then disappeared through the gate.

The beach was at the end of the garden just as Benedict had said. A small sandy track led from the gate through a tight knot of pine trees. Liv could see the footprints Benedict had just left behind and followed them to where the track joined a proper path down to the beach. The beach, a flat, wide stretch of pale sand, looked empty. Liv squinted and could just make out a handful of surfers bobbing around in the water, waiting for the next big wave to break. They didn't have long left; the light was fading fast. It was getting a lot cooler too, not that they'd be that bothered. Liv, in her flimsy playsuit, shivered and fished a hoodie out of her bag before heading down to find Benedict.

He was paddling further out than anyone else. Of course he was, she thought with a smile. He didn't seem the type to do things by halves. When a wave broke, he was up in an instant, all perfect balance and rock hard thighs. She knew absolutely nothing about surfing but she could see that Benedict was good at it. He made it look effortless, as if the board was an extension of his body. He could control it with the same precision he moved his arms and legs. Liv sat down on a dry patch of sand and watched him going through the endless loop of waiting for a wave, catching it and then riding it. She knew he was experienced but she still worried every time he dropped out of view. At one point a wave broke over his head and he was gone. She jumped up and scanned frantically for him. Just when she thought she'd have to get in the water and find him herself, he popped up inside the wave with a huge grin on his face.

The sun was dipping below the horizon when Benedict finally climbed out of the water with his board. The last rays of the sun created a little halo around him as he walked towards her.

'I thought Daniel Craig looked good in his snug blue Speedos but he's got nothing on you,' she said as he unhooked the board leash from his ankle.

He leaned down to kiss her.

'Hey! Stop! You're dripping water all over me.' She shielded her face with her hands.

'I bet a Bond girl wouldn't whinge about James making her all wet.' He shook his hair out on her like a naughty dog coming in from the rain.

'I never moan about you making me wet,' Liv smirked and cupped his hard, wet buttock in her hand. It felt smooth and cool. 'Mmm, your arse looks amazing in this thing.'

'We'd better get back. It's painful getting a hard-on in this thing. It'll cut my circulation off.'

She took his outstretched hand and got up. They walked up the beach path hand in hand. The sand was still lovely and warm under their feet and once they were far enough from the sea, the air got warmer too. When they turned off the path and back onto the track through the pine trees, it was dark too. The trees formed a tall, dense canopy over their heads.

Benedict was walking ahead of her in the inky dark when he stopped suddenly.

'What's the matter?' Liv whispered. She didn't know why she was whispering but she was suddenly scared, even though she hadn't heard anything other than the crunch of the pine needles under their feet.

'Nothing. I just wanted to kiss you.' He reached round in the dark and found her with his other hand. He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers.

'Mmm, you taste all salty,' she murmured. His lips were still cool from the sea. When he opened his mouth, his tongue was all warm.

She put her hands up into his tangled wet hair. 'You have no idea how sexy you look in your wetsuit.'

'You have no idea how sexy you look, full stop.' He pressed his groin closer to hers. Even though it was constricted by the wetsuit, she felt the unmistakable swell of his hardening cock. 'I need to take this fucking thing off.'

In the darkness, she heard the whirr of a zip and then what sounded like Velcro straps being pulled apart. Liv reached out and found his cool, hard chest, feeling all the ridges of muscle as she ran her hands over him. She couldn't help looking for that mysterious band of jagged marks that ran all the way around the top of his left arm and shoulder. Her finger tips skimmed across the uneven lines lightly. She didn't know what they were but she wanted to make him feel that they didn't bother her. She kept running her hands down lower and found he'd peeled his wetsuit down. His flat stomach and cock and balls were exposed. His cock was cool, smooth and silky under her warm finger tips. She clasped it loosely in her fist and slowly slid his foreskin down over its swollen tip. She heard a low moan and felt him slip his hand up the short leg of her playsuit.

'You're not wearing any knickers.'

Liv automatically spread her legs wider and he ran his finger along the swollen ridge of her lips. Then he parted them and slipped the very tip of a finger inside her.

'I want to fuck you,' he murmured in a pained voice, sliding his finger in further. 'What, here?'

'Yeah, right now.'

'What about a condom? I'm guessing you haven't got one stashed in your wetsuit.'

There was a pause. 'This probably isn't the best time to tell you but I'm infertile.' He nuzzled her neck and licked her earlobe. 'I can give you all the details later but I promise I'm telling the truth. I'm clean. I've had all the tests.'

If she hadn't had her hand round his thick cock and his finger inside her, she might have stopped and asked him some questions but the need to fuck him had short-circuited her brain. She already had one leg up and curled round his thigh so that his finger could get in deeper. She didn't want him to stop.

'Ok.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes. Please. Now.' She'd deal with his cock now and the consequences later.

'I'm going to pick you up. Let me take your weight.' He picked her up and pressed her back against a tree. He gripped her hips. 'Are you ok?'

'Yeah.' She didn't have to do anything, he was doing all the hard work. She wrapped her other leg around his hips. She knew what would happen next but the darkness made it all the more exciting. She couldn't see Benedict; she could only feel his hands on her and his hips against the top of her thighs. The only sound was his breathing and the muted swish of the waves through the pine trees. Suddenly she felt the hot tip of his swollen cock pushing between her legs. He pushed a bit harder and the tip slipped just inside her. Without the slight drag of a condom it felt amazing – all smooth, rock hard and warm, while she was all hot and wet.

'God, that feels so good,' he groaned.

Benedict kept pushing the very tip of his cock inside and then pulling it out again. Liv wanted more, she wanted of all it and hard. She was aching for it now and she couldn't wait.

'Don't tease me – just fuck me hard.'

'In a minute,' he grunted, keeping his strokes light and shallow.

'Harder,' she moaned. 'Deeper. I want you to stretch me wide.'

'Not yet. If I fuck you hard, I'll come too fast. You feel so good that I don't want to yet.'

Benedict teased her for a couple of minutes more, giving her the fat end of his cock with each stroke and nothing more. He gyrated his hips so that his cock circled round as it went inside her. Just as Liv could feel his arms beginning to shake with the effort of holding her up, Benedict finally gave her what she wanted. He rammed in the full length of his cock, making her gasp at the intense fullness. His cock was so big that, when it was in her to the hilt, she felt a mixture of exquisite pleasure and pain. She almost wasn't sure if she was built to take it.

'You're so tight. You're going to make me come quickly.'

Benedict began pounding into her, banging her against the tree. As he pounded faster and faster, she could hear the effort in his breath and feel his fingers digging into her arse. His muscular thighs began to tremble. As he slammed his cock into her one final time she tightened around it hard. With his pelvis pressed against hers, she felt his cock spasm over and over again.

'Ahhhhh,' he groaned with each jerk, 'ahhh, ahhh, ahhh.'

His noises slowly tailed off and then he dropped his sweaty forehead against her shoulder.

'Can I put you down now?' he asked.

'Sure.'

Liv gratefully unwrapped her legs from his waist and slid her feet back to the ground. Her legs were shaky but she had that just fucked feeling that she loved. The insides of her thighs were numb and she felt both sensitive and empty between her legs – sensitive from the overload of pleasure and empty now that Benedict's huge cock was gone.

Benedict cupped her face in the dark and kissed her lightly. His face was hot now and slick with his own sweat and sea water. Mixed with the resiny scent of the pine trees and skin warmed by the sun, it was the most sensuous thing she'd ever smelt. It was summer and raw sex rolled into one.

'You smell so good,' she said, trailing her nose up along his neck. 'I want you to fuck me again.'

'I need to eat first. Let's get back to the house have dinner.'

He took her hand and led her through the dark pine trees back to the garden gate on wobbly legs.

Upstairs Liv saw that someone, probably the mysterious Marine, had been busy on the terrace. The whole thing was lit up with masses of lanterns and candles. They were flickering on every surface – on the table, on the railings and on the floor in little clusters. There were even floating candles downstairs in the pool. It looked like something out of an interiors magazine. Liv stepped outside to have a better look.

'Wow, how beautiful,' she said, taking it all in. There was something magical and incredibly romantic about it.

'I thought we could have dinner out here,' said Benedict, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. 'I'll grab a shower first and then we can eat if you like?

Aware of the warm cum now trickling down her inner thigh, Liv decided to do the same. She followed him down the corridor to their bedrooms. He ducked into the first room and she carried on to the room at the end of the corridor, where she'd found her things earlier. After she'd stripped off her hoodie and playsuit, she grabbed a thick grey towel off the bed and headed for her bathroom. The shower was separated from the rest of the room by a huge glass wall. Stepping behind the glass, she turned the huge chrome lever on the shower and waited for water to warm up. Then she stood under the powerful jet and let the hot water pound her face and chest. After a few minutes, she turned around to let the water work its magic on her shoulders and neck. She reluctantly turned around again and decided she should probably get a move. She reached for the shampoo.

'Here, let me.' She turned to find Benedict standing on the other side of the glass. He had a towel wrapped low round his hips and looked just like the model she'd first seen online with India. All toned with an arrow of hard muscle pointing down to the big bulge under the towel. His big bulge was freed a second later when he dropped the towel on the floor and stepped into the shower. He took the shampoo bottle and poured a little into his hands.

Liv relaxed against him and let him wash her hair. He massaged her hair very gently, swirling, rubbing and stroking her scalp with the pads of his fingers. He took his time, giving equal attention to her head and then her neck. It was so relaxing and sexy at the same time. Liv wasn't sure whether she wanted to sleep or have sex. His slow but persistent touch was turning her on. She could feel her insides tightening and her breasts swelling with desire. She'd never met anyone before who could massage her head and make her wet at the same time.

'Let's rinse your hair.'

Liv put her hands out against the tiled wall and leaned forward under the jet of hot water. She turned her head from side to side to wash out the foam. Benedict moved in behind her and place his hands either side of hers on the wall, enclosing her in his arms. She felt the unmistakeable prod of his stiffening cock in her lower back. First, she wriggled her buttocks against it and then instinctively reached round to touch it.

'No, it's your turn now,' Benedict whispered in her ear. 'Open your legs.'

She moved her legs apart and waited, nervous with anticipation and excitement. Benedict would be making her come soon. She didn't know exactly how he was going to do it but she did know that his fingers, his tongue and maybe his gorgeous cock would drive her mad with desire. Just the idea of that made her nipples tingle and harden. When he dropped his hand and slid it down over her belly to between her legs, she gasped. He started gently by rubbing the tips of his fingers down over the outside of her lips, sliding the soft pads from her clit to her cunt. He drew his fingers back, lightly raking over her closed lips with his finger nails. He did this a few times and had Liv grinding into his hand, desperate for him to open her up and rub her hard. Instead, he slipped his fingers between her outer lips and ran one down each side of her tender inner lips. He briefly dipped his fingers inside her and used her wetness to gently slide backwards and forwards some more. Next, he brought his fingers closer together so that they formed a snug V around the root of her clit. He rubbed them up and down the sides of her engorged nub a few times and, just when Liv thought she might finally be getting some full-on, steady stimulation, switched to rubbing over it side to side. Liv moaned and writhed against his hand in frustration. Her pleasure had just been starting to build and now she was back to square one again.

'Please,' she urged him, 'just get me off. I need to come.'

Benedict used his free hand to spread her lips so that he could expose her clit. With his other hand, he dipped a fingertip into her clit's soft folds and drew a slow, wide circle inside. The circles got tighter and tighter until he was rubbing the very centre of her clit. The pleasure was exquisite and started to ramp up as he rubbed faster and faster. Liv felt overloaded with sensations - the hot water streaming down on her face and her sensitised nipples, Benedict nuzzling her neck and nipping at her earlobe, his finger pushing her relentlessly up to a frenzied peak. She reached up and hooked her arm around the back of his neck to keep herself upright. She was feeling weak and breathless. She strained against him, tugging on his neck as the fingering, licks and nibbles became almost too much for her to bear. She sucked in air as she finally reached the peak and went tumbling over it, her insides tightening in waves. She bucked against him as she rode her orgasm, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt like she was falling through a kaleidoscope. She was caught between wanting it to go on forever and wanting it to stop because the pleasure was so intense. She pushed hard against him, her legs rigid while her insides rippled. When her muscles eventually stopped clenching, Benedict's touch became too much for her sensitive clit. She put her hand over his to stop it and then relaxed against him on trembling legs.

'Are you ok?' he asked.

She gave a dreamy sigh and a big smile spread over her flushed face. 'I'm more than ok. I'm fanfuckingtastic.'

They stood under the water for a few more minutes. Benedict wrapped his arms round her and Liv let all the tension in her body dissolve. She would have happily switched off the shower and gone to lie down but she heard Benedict's stomach growling.

'You must be starving,' she said.

'It's been a long time since lunch. Let's eat.'
Chapter Twelve

It was late by the time they sat down to dinner on the terrace. Beyond the glow from candles and lanterns on the table, it was very dark, much darker than back home. The cloudless sky was a deep black and the stars seemed brighter. Liv felt a million miles from home. She couldn't quite believe that she'd been in her flat only a few hours ago and now she was on holiday, sitting on a terrace listening to the sound of the cicadas and the distant waves crashing. Benedict pulled his chair round from his side of the table to sit next to her. Then he poured some red wine into their glasses and raised his.

'To you. And to us.'

They chinked glasses and took a sip. Liv suddenly felt ravenous seeing all the bowls of artichokes, olives, grilled peppers and cured meat on the table. It was her kind of food. She tucked straight in, spooning things onto her plate and then using the gorgeous, stretchy bread to scoop them into her mouth.

Benedict smiled at her. 'I love watching you eat. You really enjoy it.'

'What's not to enjoy?' she asked through a mouthful of artichokes. 'I really don't understand people who don't like food. My family is either eating or thinking and talking about what they're going to eat next. What are we going to have for lunch? And then for dinner? What's in the fridge? What's in season? Mealtimes were always a big deal in our house. In fact, they still are.'

'That must have been nice.' He sounded wistful.

'What was dinnertime like in your house?'

'I don't remember meal times with my mum but me and Bruno very rarely ate with my dad. He was usually locked in his study in the evenings. Nanny sat with us, though.'

She squeezed his hand, unsure what to say. 'That sounds lonely.'

'It was.'

'Was your dad always working?'

'No, he, er...' Benedict hesitated for a moment. 'Are you sure you want to hear this?'

'Yes. Why?'

'Well, it's not exactly happy families stuff.'

'Yeah, but it's your family stuff.'

'Ok, well, my dad wasn't working in his study. He was drinking and he didn't want us to see. He started heavily after my mum left. He'd always had a whisky before dinner but, when it was just the three of us, he started with a whisky before dinner and then he'd keep on going till he passed out at his desk. I don't know how he managed it but be seemed perfectly normal to everyone else. Amazingly he went to work and was good at his job. I think he's what you'd call a functioning alcoholic.' He paused for a sip of wine and then looked at his glass. 'Maybe I shouldn't be drinking this after what happened.'

'You don't drink that much, at least not from what I've seen.'

'No, you're right. I drink wine because I like it. I don't drink to forget like my dad did.'

'And he managed to sort himself out. You said he went to AA? Where he met Nathalie?'

'Yeah, but before that he really drank himself into the ground.'

'What made him stop?'

Benedict shifted in his chair uncomfortably. 'He didn't have a choice really. It was taken out of his hands.'

Liv didn't understand but she didn't want to press him. 'You don't have to tell me now. Or even at all.'

Benedict sighed. 'You've noticed the scars on my shoulder and arm?' Liv nodded.

'Well, when I was thirteen, my dad went to see my mum in New York. He didn't tell us where he was going, we just thought he was going away for work. He didn't tell my mum either, he just turned up at her apartment block one day and waited for her to come out. He told me that he hoped that she'd see him and want him back. God knows why because he'd aged twenty years since she'd left him. Anyway, it didn't pan out like that. She came out, he tried to talk to her and she wasn't interested. She got into a cab and went off. He waited around all day for her to come back and when she did, he tried again. This time she told him that she had no interest in seeing him or talking to him. That their relationship had ended a long time ago and she hadn't thought about him once since. Then she said she'd have him arrested for harassment if he turned up again.'

'God, that was harsh,' Liv said.

'Yeah, but then this is the woman who left her kids behind and never looked back. Anyway, he came home and a week later, he decided that he couldn't take it anymore. He'd spent the last seven years grieving for her and their relationship. He still loved her and wanted her back and yet she hadn't thought about him once. It was the final blow. He waited till we were all in bed and then he went into the garage and hung himself. Or at least he tried to. When he'd kicked the step ladder away, he'd kicked it a bit too hard and it'd knocked over some empty whisky bottles. I heard the noise – I was in the kitchen getting a drink – and went out to have a look. He'd locked the door between the utility room and the garage but I could see him in there through the glass. He can't have been up there more than 30 seconds but his face was already going purple. I tried to kick the door open but I wasn't strong enough. The lock wouldn't break. In the end, I punched my arm through the glass so that I could reach the key on the other side and open the door. That's where I got all my scars from. I got bits of glass all round my shoulder and the top of my arm. It took bloody ages for them to be picked out at the hospital.'

'Any your dad?'

'Nanny had come down and she helped me get him down. She called an ambulance and we were taken to A&E. I didn't see him again for ages. My grandparents arranged for him to go straight to rehab. He didn't fight it. I think even he realised that the drinking had to stop. He told me that, when he was hanging up there, he realised that he didn't want to die and if he kept drinking, he might do something stupid again.'

'Fuck,' Liv said, blown away by the story.

'I know, fuck,' Benedict said. 'I told you it was heavy. I didn't want to tell anyone about it but social services said that they needed someone to take responsibility for me and my brother while my dad was in hospital. I could only think of Kate and Tim. They were great about it. We stayed with them until my dad came back and then kept an eye on us afterwards.'

'That sounds like Kate and Tim. They're really good people. When you first meet them, you don't see it. Tim's head is usually somewhere else, either thinking about ancient Greek or cricket, so he seems a bit vague but he's really switched on. So's Kate, despite the whole hippy Glastonbury vibe.'

'That's exactly it. It might seem like they're clueless but they know what's going on in that house. Even when they're sitting round the table laughing and arguing about stupid things.'

'And sex. They love talking about sex!'

'I know. We were sitting round the dinner table one day and Kate suddenly said: 'Rufus, could I ask you a favour, darling? Could you avoid using dark pants and t-shirts to mop up after you've pleasured yourself? It's a bugger to get it out in the wash when it's all dried in.' No one batted an eyelid. Rufus just mumbled 'alright' and carried on eating. It was hilarious.'

'I was really shocked to begin with but now I'm almost immune to it. The first time Kate gave Charlotte and India advice about giving blow jobs, my food got stuck in my throat and Tim had to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on me. When I sat down again, Kate said 'Liv, darling, you obviously need to work on your gag reflex'. I was totally mortified.'

'Jesus. I can totally imagine her saying that as she's passing a bowl of green beans round the table,' Benedict laughed.

'The weird thing is that, despite growing up in that family, Charlotte is so uptight. She's so different to Rufus and India, who are basically unshockable and find it all funny. They accept it as Kate's eccentricity but Charlotte can't stand it.'

Benedict got up suddenly and pushed his chair back roughly from the table. He paced about in front of the table and raked his hand through his hair several times.

'Are you ok?' asked Liv, worried by the sudden change in the atmosphere.

'Yes, fine, I've just remembered something,' he mumbled unconvincingly. 'I'll be back in a minute.'

Liv sat back slightly confused. She didn't know Benedict that well so she couldn't tell if he genuinely had something urgent to do or if they'd gone too far talking about his dad. One minute they were talking and laughing about blowjobs and the next he was jumping out of his chair and running inside. Should she go inside and check if he was ok? Or let him come back when he was ready? She decided to wait where she was and, in the meantime, drink more wine. Definitely more wine. She picked up the bottle and poured a fair amount of the bottle into her glass. Then she set it back on the table and looked at the label. It was very modern – a dark grey background with a simple pencil sketch of white waves on it. She knew absolutely nothing about wine. At the off licence, it was a simple decision: she either liked the label on the bottle or she'd had it before, usually upstairs with Kate and Tim, so she knew it was good. This wine was good and she liked the label. She turned it the bottle to read the blurb on the back. There was some waffle about Old World grapes and New World wine techniques and then something caught her eye. The wine was produced nearby in somewhere called Domaine Cassel. Benedict chose this second to step out onto the terrace.

'Sorry about that,' he said and sat down without looking Liv in the eye. 'Do you like the wine?'

'Is Domaine Cassel anything to do with you?' she blurted out, the wine making her more direct than usual.

Benedict winced slightly. 'Yeah, it is. It's my vineyard. It's about 15 minutes away from here.'

'Wow.' She was genuinely stunned. He'd mentioned his property and media business but said nothing about wine. 'How did that happen?'

Benedict poured himself some more wine and rolled it around in the glass. Watching the wine coat the inside of the glass, he said: 'When I finished school, I just wanted to get away from Bristol and everything that was going on there. I was involved in some, er, tricky situations. I'd got decent grades but I wasn't really interested in going to university. I was just interested in surfing and being as far away from Bristol as possible so I got myself a job picking grapes near here. I saved up some money and spent all my spare time on the beach. When the harvest was over, another picker mentioned that he had a job in Portugal. I had nothing better to do so I tagged along and managed to get a job at a vineyard there. It turns out there's a bit of a circuit you can do. Europe in the summer and then South Africa, Australia, New Zealand and Australia in the winter. You can pick grapes and surf your way around the world. So that's what I did for a couple of years.' He took a big sip of wine and finally looked up at her. 'I ended up staying in New Zealand for another year because you can get out to Samoa and Fiji to surf there too. The vineyard owner I worked for kind of took me under his wing. He could see that I was interested in the whole process, not just the picking, so he let me shadow him and learn about the business. Then, when I felt it was time to come back home, I decided that one day I'd have my own vineyard. It's where I plan to retire eventually, though I need to make sure that Olivier and Lola are sorted first.'

'That's really good of you,' said Liv. 'I get the impression from all this,' she waved her hand around to mean the house and garden, 'and the property you have in Bristol that Olivier and Lola would be ok if you walked away from it all now. Unless they're very high maintenance and insist on having a constant supply of fresh puppies to stroke.'

Benedict smiled and considered this for a minute. 'I suppose I could retire now but my businesses are the only thing I have to pass on. I'm not going to have kids of my own.' He paused.

Right, the fertility issue. She hadn't had much time to think about it and it wasn't something she was going to casually bring up in conversation. Especially not after the conversation they'd just had about his dad. How could you jump from chatting about surfing and wine to asking why he couldn't have kids? And, anyway, she didn't want him to think that she already had her eye on 'their' future. She didn't have a wedding folder that she regularly updated with new veil styles and table arrangements. She gulped down some more wine and fought the urge to say something, anything, to break the tense atmosphere. This seemed to have become the pattern of their relationship – he had something important to tell her and they sat in painful silence until he could bring himself to spit it out.

'I want to be totally open with you, Liv,' Benedict said. 'I haven't felt like this about anyone before and I don't want to ruin it by keeping secrets from you but...this is such a huge deal. After I've just offloaded another huge deal onto you. It could scare you off. We've only just got together and I don't want to freak you out by talking about kids. Or not having kids, in my case.'

Liv took his hand. It was balled up in a tight, tense fist on the table. She unfurled his fingers and leaned forward to kiss his palm. 'I'm not freaked out. Trust me. If anyone should be freaked out, it's you after what I told you the other night.'

'I'm not freaked out by what you told me. I'm really sad that you went through all of that but none of it changes how I feel about you or how I see you. It's something terrible that happened in the past and I wish it hadn't, not for my sake but for you. So that you didn't have to go through the last three years. Do you understand?'

She nodded mutely, clamping her lips hard between her teeth. She knew that if she said anything she'd start crying. And if she started, she wasn't sure she could stop. They wouldn't just be tears of regret and sorrow about the past but also happy tears that she'd met someone who cared about her so much and wanted to protect her.

'Good,' he said when that was settled. He took a big breath and carried on. 'Shall I get this over with now?'

Liv nodded. 'Well, you know I'm infertile. Something happened when I was eighteen. I had a thing with a girl from school in Bristol. I wasn't really into it but she was persistent and eventually we got pissed at a party and had sex.' He winced and look up at her. Liv tried hard to keep her poker face on. She couldn't imagine him getting pissed and shagging someone. He was so serious and proper. 'It happened a few times after I finished my A' Levels. There were loads of parties and she was always there waiting for me. I was stupid and I didn't say no. In my defence, eighteen-year-old boys don't tend to turn down sex. Anyway, she started talking about having a proper relationship with me. I didn't want one and I told her straight. I was honest but maybe a bit blunt. She was really upset and stormed off. I thought that was it but then she shagged a guy from my class, who she knew I couldn't stand. He slept with anyone and everyone. Girls from other years, their mums if he could. When the A' Level results came out, there was one last party and she was there again. I tried to avoid her all night but every time I turned around, she was there.' He looked at Liv with genuine shame on his face. 'I know it's no excuse but I was really pissed and we ended up having sex. Actually, that makes it sound more two way than it was. I was lying on the floor in one of the bedrooms upstairs, trying not to be sick, and she came in to find me. Before I could say anything, she unbuttoned my jeans, got on top of me and started to suck me off. Then she climbed on top and fucked me. With no condom. She only stopped when I sat up and vomited all over her and me. I was so pissed that I wasn't sure if I'd come or not when I woke up the next day. I wasn't even sure if it had happened at all, that I hadn't just had some alcohol-fuelled nightmare.' He let go of Liv's hand and picked up a glass of water from the table. He drank it all down in one go and put it down. 'I left Bristol straight after that and didn't think about her again until I got a letter from her six months later. She'd caught chlamydia from the guy she'd slept with to make me jealous. She was telling me so that I should go and get myself checked out. I was in New Zealand and I didn't really have any symptoms so it took me a couple more months to get round to seeing a doctor. By then I'd had it for almost a year, long enough to shoot my sperm to pieces. I've been to see doctors about it since and there's nothing anyone can do.'

'Well, that doesn't...' Liv started to say something but Benedict put his hand up to stop her.

'I haven't finished. There's something else. The girl who gave me chlamydia.' He winced again. 'It was Charlotte.'

In her wine-addled state, it took the cogs of her brain a few moments to turn. 'You mean Charlotte as in Rufus and India, Charlotte?'

He nodded. 'Yep.'

'Shit,' she said, completely blown away by this revelation. Benedict had slept with her. 'Charlotte.' She slumped back in her chair and felt shivery even though it was warm. She didn't know what else to say. Charlotte had made Benedict infertile. She stared blindly at the wine bottle.

'Please say something.'

She brought her focus back to Benedict. He was looking worried.

'I, er, I'm, er, shit. I'm not sure what to say. I'm not shocked by what you did – I'm sure most 18-year-old boys do a lot worse – I'm just shocked it was Charlotte. She's so uptight and holier than thou. Do Kate and Tim know?'

'I don't know. I haven't seen them since I left after my A' Levels.'

It struck her that she should be less worried about the Charlotte angle and more worried about the fact that Benedict couldn't have children. 'Look,' she said, steering the conversation back to where it should be. 'That it was Charlotte is just a detail. The real issue is here you. And me. No one else. It's true that I haven't exactly known you for very long but this isn't going to make me run away screaming. You said that you wished that certain things hadn't happened to me and that you wished you could take it all away.' He nodded cautiously.

'Well, I feel the same about you. You've had a lot to deal with, really difficult stuff. I don't know what it feels like, knowing you can't have kids. My sister had IVF for years and I know that it brought her to her knees. Every time she wasn't pregnant, it was like someone had died. She was beside herself with grief.'

'It does feel like a bit of me has died. That bit in the future that was going to settle down and have a family.'

'That's a huge thing to deal with, especially on your own,' Liv said. 'I'm guessing you've dealt with this on your own?' He nodded again.

'Does anyone know about this?'

'Only you.' He paused, 'I've never been with anyone who I felt I needed to tell before. No one ever felt serious enough or permanent enough. Until now.'

She brought her hand up to cup his cheek. 'That's such a lovely thing to say.'

'It's true. I've dated a few women over the last few years but never for long and never with any real passion.'

'I find that hard to believe.'

'Seriously, it's true. Sex with them always felt a bit mechanical. It was something that Ifelt like I should do. You know, we'd go out for a meal and then when it was time to say good night, they'd invite me in and then... I felt that they expected me to sleep with them. I'm not saying that I hated it but it was more like a session at the gym. Hard work and then a pay-off high at the end. No emotion, no instant urge to do it all again. Just the need to get out of there fast and go home for a shower. But with you, it's something totally different. I want to touch you and be inside you the whole time. It sounds weird but it's almost as if I want to climb inside you and merge with you. And you give me a permanent hard-on too. That's always a bonus.' He smiled.

She got up and slid onto his lap. 'You say the nicest things,' she teased.

'You are the nicest thing,' he nuzzled her neck. 'By a very, very long way.'

She looped her arms over his shoulder and hugged him. 'And so are you.'

'Come on, let's go to bed,' he said. He stood up, still holding her, and walked through to his bedroom. There was a small lamp on by the bed that cast a warm glow over the cool, white room. He put her down on the huge white bed and lay down next to her. They turned to face each other.

'You're pretty fucking amazing, you know,' she said quietly, holding his face in her hands. She kissed him very gently on the lips.

'Right back at you.'

She snuggled in closer so that her head was tucked under his chin and his arms completely enveloped her. She felt safe and protected. He dotted soft kisses on her hair and stroked her back. Outside the distant waves were still crashing and the cicadas were still singing to each other but it all felt a long way away. She was curled up with Benedict, inside the cocoon of his arms listening to the steady beat of his heart.
Chapter Thirteen

Liv woke up at some point in the night and found that Benedict had gone. She turned onto her back and waited a few minutes. When he didn't come back, she fumbled around for lamp by the bed. It was only 3.45am, not exactly the time most people get up to start the day. She gingerly pushed herself up off the bed. After all that wine last night she had the beginnings of a hangover. Her head spun as she stood up. Her teeth felt like they'd been coated with velvet and she was still fully dressed. Ugh, she thought as she stumbled over to the door, I need water. And to find Benedict.

She padded out into the corridor. It was totally dark. The upstairs living area was all dark apart from a sliver of light coming from Benedict's office. Liv wasn't exactly sure why she crept over on tiptoes to peer in. She was caught between curiosity and a terrible fear that she'd catch him doing something awful. Since Matt, she'd become suspicious of men, wondering if they kept a dark part of themselves hidden. She knew it wasn't rational – Matt's personality had only changed so dramatically because of the drugs and alcohol. Nothing else. He hadn't been a monster waiting for a chance to strike but she still couldn't get past the feeling.

Liv noticed her hands were shaking as she leaned carefully against the door frame to peer in. Her breath was shaky too and she could feel her heart racing uncontrollable in her chest. She needn't have worried. Benedict was sitting at his desk, with his elbows on it and his hands clasped together. His forehead was resting on his hands as if he were praying. He didn't look like a pervert or a mad man; he looked like someone with a lot on his mind. Relieved that he wasn't in there looking at something illegal or sacrificing a goat, Liv decided to leave him to it and find herself a glass of water. She was about to step back and tiptoe down to the kitchen when Benedict's head snapped up.

'Oh, hello,' he said, getting out of his chair and walking round the desk. He was still fully dressed too. 'Are you ok?'

'Er, yes, I just wondered where you were,' she mumbled, embarrassed by being caught spying at the door. 'And I wanted a glass of water. I don't want to disturb you though if you're busy. I can pop down to the kitchen and then go back to bed.'

'No, it's fine. I'd like to go back to bed too.'

He flipped off the light and steered her over to the bar in the corner of the living area. He ducked down behind it and fished out two bottles of water from a fridge.

'Here,' he said, handing one to her. 'Let's go back to bed.'

He held out his hand and Liv took it and followed him back to the bedroom. He closed the bedroom door behind them and turned to look at Liv. She was hovering by the bed, unsure whether she should sit down or even lie down. It was the middle of the night, she was hung over and standing in a bedroom somewhere in France with a man she'd known for a couple of days. He was looking at her intently, like he expected her to say or do something and she didn't know what it was. The moment stretched out until Benedict suddenly pulled off his t-shirt and shorts and then came over and pulled her dress up and over her head. He unhooked her bra and slipped it off.

'That's better. Let's go to sleep.'

Liv let him lie down first and then cautiously lay down next to him, leaving a small gap between them. The sense of dread she'd had at his office door was hard to shake off. The adrenaline was still coursing round her and she felt jittery.

'Are you ok?' he asked, pulling her into his side.

'Yes,' she lied, grateful it was dark and he couldn't see her face. His arms were clamped tight around her. There was none of that easy looseness they'd had before. She waited a few minutes for him to relax his grip but he didn't. 'Are you alright? You seem a bit tense.'

'Do I?' he sounded surprised.

'I can hear you heart banging away in your chest and you're gripping me a bit hard.'

'God, sorry,' he said, immediately loosening his grip. 'I didn't realise.'

'You don't have to tell me but it might help.'

He sighed deeply. 'I don't usually sleep that much and plus I'm not used to having someone in bed with me.'

'I slept with you last night though,' she answered.

'Yeah, but I was awake for most of it and then I got up around five.'

She'd been spark out and hadn't realised he'd left her that early in the morning.

'What have you done before, with other girlfriends?' she asked.

'They never spent the night at my place.'

'What, ever?'

'No,' he said quietly. 'I usually went over to their place and left after we had, erm, you know.'

'You loved them and left them?' She was incredulous. He seemed like such a gentleman.

'Not exactly but yeah, I suppose so.' He sounded sheepish.

'So how come I'm here and I was with you last night?'

Benedict rolled away from her and onto his back. Had she pissed him off? It was impossible to tell in the dark.

She tried to backtrack quickly. 'You don't have to answer. I'm being nosy. Come back and hug me again.'

'No, you're right to ask. I've never wanted to spend the night with anyone else before, I suppose. I didn't want to snuggle up to them and have breakfast with them in the morning. I just wanted to go home, have a shower and go to bed by myself. But you, you're different. I want to snuggle up with you, I want to have breakfast with you in the morning and then I want to do it all again. Over and over again.'

Liv smiled in the dark. 'That's the loveliest thing anyone's ever said to me.'

'It's true but I'm scared, really scared. That's why I got up. My mind was going round and round so I went and sat at my desk. I can usually think properly at my desk.'

'What are you scared of?' she asked cautiously, not sure if she even wanted to hear the answer.

'I'm scared of everything. I'm scared that you're here. I'm scared that you'll leave. God, I'm fucking contrary.' He laughed bitterly. 'I've never wanted to spend all my time with anyone before so I don't know how to do it. I don't know if I'm doing it right or wrong. Am I too distant? Am I suffocating you? I have no fucking point of reference and I feel like a total idiot.'

She felt him turn onto his side away from her. This time, she wrapped herself around him. 'Please don't torment yourself,' she said. 'You're not doing anything wrong. In fact, you're doing everything so right I can't quite believe it. I keep thinking I'm going to find out it's all some romantic daydream and then I'll be devastated that it's not real.' She rubbed his back. 'Look, I'm hardly a relationship expert but I did have a happy time with Matt for two years and even though I was much younger then, I realised that being with anyone takes hard work. You don't just automatically know how to be with someone. Everyone's different and you have to learn about them and find out how to be around each other. Matt was really into sport and outdoorsy things. I'm really not sporty at all and I'd prefer to jab my eyes out before I go abseiling or hang-gliding. It took us a while to work out that sometimes we'd just do our own thing. On our own. It didn't mean anything more than that. We weren't trying to get away from each other.'

'But what about the thing with Charlotte?'

'Look, what happened between you and Charlotte is between you and Charlotte. It does make me feel a bit jealous but logically I know it was a long time ago. My brain'll eventually work that out. Does she know that you're infertile?'

'No, I haven't seen her or spoken to her since I left Bristol. I didn't even answer the letter she sent me.'

Liv let out a big, noisy breath. 'She's going to be so pissed off when she finds out about us. She's never liked me and she can bear a grudge like no-one else I've ever met. And my family comes from Naples. They make Tony Soprano look like the Dalai Lama.'

'Why doesn't she like you?'

'I'm guessing it's because she went off to university and I moved in around the same time. I didn't take her room or anything but she's always acted like I stole her place in the family. I've thought about this a lot and I think that she hates the way I get on with her family better than she does. She's all prickly and high maintenance and they're all laid back. When she comes home, there's always a tense atmosphere, like she's waiting to pounce on anything I say or do. It's ridiculous because I've been there for over ten years now and she still can't let it go. It's her poor bastard of a boyfriend I feel sorry for. He actually seems alright.'

Miles was genuinely a nice bloke. A bit wet maybe but sweet all the same. He obviously adored Charlotte and she seemed to just about tolerate him. Liv wasn't sure why she bothered but India and Rufus thought it was all about Miles' money and status. His family practically owned the Cotswolds. Charlotte lived with him in his white stucco house in Regent's Park and socialised with big hitters like the Rothschilds. Kate and Tim were small fry by comparison. A second home in Cornwall couldn't compete with private islands in the Caribbean. Rufus always joked that Miles wasn't nice but dim – he was nice but fucking loaded. And India, always the person to see the perverse in anyone, thought that Miles loved Charlotte because she reminded him of his strict, unloving nanny.

'Sounds like she hasn't changed much then,' said Benedict wryly. 'She wasn't exactly soft and cuddly at school. What does she do now?'

Liv sniggered. 'She's a lawyer in the City. I'm not sure what she does exactly but it seems to involve shafting people. She stalks around in Celine power suits and ridiculously high Louboutins. India reckons that Miles gets her to walk all over him in her heels while she tells him off for not tidying up his toys in the nursery. She does a pretty accurate impression of him whimpering 'Sorry, Nanny. I've been a bad boy.''

'That sounds fucking awful.' He sounded genuinely depressed by Miles's willingness to put his balls in Charlotte's Fendi handbag.

Liv decided to change the subject and, hopefully, the mood. 'What are we doing in the morning? I'm happy to sit by the pool here and read if you want to go surfing. I'm hoping to give a paper at a conference and I need to start doing some reading.'

She felt the bed dip as Benedict turned around to face her again. 'You're pretty much perfect, you know,' he whispered in the dark.

'You might want to revise that when my hangover really kicks in tomorrow.'

'I have the remedy for that. How about we drive over to the vineyard for some hair of the dog and lunch?'

'Great. And Benedict? If you need to get up and sleep in another room, that's fine by me. Do what you have to do and we'll learn to live with it.'

'Did I mention that you're perfect?' Benedict pulled her closer and kissed her. 'Now go to sleep.'
Chapter Fourteen

Liv was woken by a drop of cold water on her face. And then another. She reluctantly opened her eyes and found Benedict leaning over her. His hair was dripping wet. She swatted him away.

'Morning, lovely.' His lips were cool when he kissed her.

She felt far from lovely. Her mouth was dry and her head was throbbing. She was sure that her tangled hair was plastered to her sweaty head.

'Is it morning?' she asked groggily. 'And how can you be so bloody perky?' She pushed herself up onto her elbows and squinted at him.

'I've been down to the beach. I thought I'd let you sleep in and then we can head straight off to the vineyard once I've had a shower. Breakfast is out on the terrace for you.'

'I could get used to this, apart from the hangover.' Liv groaned and fell back onto the bed.

'That's the plan. I've left some Nurofen and Berocca out for you on the table.'

She sat up again and assessed how hungover she was feeling. Her head wobbled on her floppy neck. The floor seemed to sway slightly. She felt like she was on the waltzer at the fair and the ride was just slowing down. Headspin or not, she couldn't help noticing that Benedict was his usual gorgeous self. His wetsuit was unzipped to the point where his happy trail of dark blonde hairs met and merged with his pubic hair. His chest was smooth and otherwise hairless.

'If I didn't feel so shit I'd get you back in bed right now,' she croaked.

'Take the Nurofen and then come back and see me,' he smiled before disappearing into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later and the Nurofen had worked its magic. The sunshine seemed to help too. Sitting on the terrace with her legs pulled up onto her chair and a big bowl of milky coffee cupped between her hands, she felt the sun penetrating her skin. She'd already fed the hangover carb monster with baguette slathered in thick butter and strawberry jam and now she was enjoying staring out over the garden and picking at the heaped bowl of fresh cherries, peaches and melon.

She suddenly felt warm hands on her shoulders and looked up.

'Better?' Benedict squeezed gently and smiled down at her. His eyes were even greener in this light.

'Much. I just need a shower and then I'm good to go.'

'Ok. Let's swap. I'll eat, you wash.'

Laurent was sitting in the car waiting for them outside the front door. He sprang out the moment he saw the front door open.

'Mademoiselle,' he said, holding the car door open for Liv.

'Merci.' She slid into the backseat. She heard Benedict say something to Laurent in rapid-fire French. His accent was perfect. The slight breathiness of his delivery was incredibly sexy.

He got in beside her and Laurent softly closed the door behind him. Liv snuggled up against him and he took her hand.

'If it's at all possible, you're even sexier when you speak French,' she whispered. She kissed his neck just below his ear and he shuddered.

'You say the nicest things.' He smiled.

'I say things that are true. No wonder the girls at school stalked you.'

'Who told you that?'

'Kate and Tim. Apparently, you had a crazed pack of teenage girls who followed you around.'

'God, that's so embarrassing.' He put his head in his hands and moaned. 'I can't believe they told you that.'

'It's not embarrassing, it's massively flattering.'

'You obviously didn't meet any of the girls at my school.'

'I did – Charlotte.'

'Well, there you go. If you had a pack of Charlottes following you around, would you be flattered?'

Liv laughed at the thought of being hunted down by Charlotte clones. 'I would be scared, very, very scared.'

'I rest my case. Anyway, I don't want a pack of girls following me, I just want you.' He picked up her hand again and turned it over to kiss her palm very softly. He then wrapped her hand in his and laid it in his lap.

Liv snuggled in closer. 'Tell me about the vineyard.'

From what Benedict told her, she imagined that Domaine Cassel would be a small but expensive hobby. A few fields of grapes, maybe a tractor and a ruddy faced local who looked after the vines. As usual Benedict had underplayed the whole thing. Domaine Cassel was a proper, fully functioning vineyard. The fields of vines ran down the gentle slopes of a hill and then stretched as far as Liv could see. Sitting at the top of the hill was a little village. The pale stone houses were nestled haphazardly around an old church with a tall bell tower. It was the sort of picture perfect village you'd expect to see in Tuscany. Grey shutters on all the windows, balconies overflowing with flowers and russet-coloured roofs on the slim townhouses. Except that this wasn't a village; this was a village that was now a hotel in the middle of a vineyard. Instead of local villagers, there were well-heeled Europeans drifting between the different restaurants, a spa and bars that now filled the houses. There was a swimming pool right in the centre where Liv assumed the village square had once been.

'How do you plan to start a vineyard and end up buying a village?' she asked Benedict, staring out of the window as the car followed the cobbled road up the hill and then drew to a stop outside the church.

'It was an accident. I spent a weekend down here and my agent drove me round to see various farms and plots of land. We just happened to drive past this village and he made a throwaway comment about how it was for sale. Apparently, all the villagers left years ago to find work and the whole place was beginning to fall apart. The local council didn't want to foot the bill for restoring it so they put it up for sale.'

'Was there even a vineyard here?'

'Yeah, there was the communal one where ours is now but the vines had all died off. We had to start from scratch and replant everything. That was the great thing, though. I brought over some of the grape varieties that I liked from New Zealand and California.' 'You seriously like a challenge.'

'I like to be busy.'

Laurent hopped out to open her door. Before she'd even stretched her toe out of the car, another man appeared beside him. Dressed in a slim cut charcoal suit, he was the polar opposite of Benedict – slight with neat black hair and tanned skin that crinkled around his deep brown eyes when he smiled. And he smiled a lot. He welcomed Liv with lots of fuss and shook her hand.

'I'm Philippe, the hotel manager' he said, in an American-inflected French accent. 'I'm very pleased to meet you.' His voice was strictly professional but his arched eyebrow and impish grin were definitely flirtatious.

Benedict appeared beside her and put his arm round her waist in a territorial move.

'Don't be too pleased, Philippe. She's taken.'

'Yes, I can see that.' He turned to Liv again. 'Let's have a drink to celebrate. You're the first woman he's ever brought here. We were beginning to think he was secretly batting for my team.'

Before Benedict could come back with a witty remark, Philippe turned and disappeared into the hotel. Liv took a moment to absorb the building. The broad, stone doorway was draped with heavy swags of purple wisteria. The smell was overpowering but the effect of the delicate, mauve flowers against the worn, pale stone couldn't have been more picture book.

'This place is beautiful,' she said.

'I'm glad you approve. Come on, let's have that drink.'

Benedict steered her through the entrance with his hand against the small of her back. They walked through the cool reception where the grey walls were hung with huge mirrors in ornate whitewashed frames and the reception desk was made of a huge slab of rough stone. They walked on through a large dining room dotted with dark wood tables and squashy velvet banquettes illuminated by low hanging copper lights. The room was empty apart for the waiting staff setting up for the lunchtime service. When Liv and Benedict passed, they stopped polishing glasses and straightening cutlery to murmur a polite 'bonjour' to them.

'Where would you like to sit?' Philippe asked Benedict, when they reached the terrace. Benedict pointed to the table nearest to edge of the terrace. Like all the other wrought iron café tables and chairs on the terrace, it sat in the shade of a huge, white, square umbrella. It also had the best view out over the pool and the vineyard below.

A waiter wearing a long old fashioned white apron came to take their order the second they sat down.

'Kir royal?' Benedict asked Liv. She nodded with a smile.

'A woman of taste,' said Philippe. 'Our kir is made from a local organic crème de cassis. I hope you like it.'

'I'm sure it will be amazing, just like everything else here,' she answered, overawed by the beauty of the place.

'I see Liv has all the diplomatic skills you lack,' said Philippe, pointedly turning to Benedict. 'Benedict likes to say nothing until he has only bad things to say. It's all quiet, quiet, quiet and then boom.' Philippe mimicked an explosion with his hands. 'He has the people skills of a hand grenade.'

'And Philippe has the people skills of a bitchy old queen – he likes to praise the staff to their faces and then assassinate them behind their backs.' Benedict smiled and sat back, looking satisfied with his critique.

Philippe laughed and then looked at Liv. 'And what would your approach be?'

'Me?' Liv was surprised to be asked. She was nervous of saying the wrong thing but she'd worked in enough restaurants to know how she liked to be treated. 'Well, I wouldn't do either of those things. I'd be straight down the line with them. If they're slacking, they need to know and if they're doing a great job, they need to know too. You can't expect someone to work hard for your business if they have a falsely inflated ego or a crushed one.'

A waiter set out drinks down on the table and caught her eye with a knowing look.

'Well, here's to Liv,' said Philippe, raising his glass. 'Clearly a woman not to be messed with.'

Benedict and Liv raised their glasses too.

'If you'll excuse me, I have egos to overinflate and crush,' said Philippe with a wink. 'I shall see you later.' He slipped out of his seat and disappeared into the dining room.

'Did I offend him?' she asked, worried that she'd pissed him off.

'No, he was just teasing you. That's a good sign. It means he likes you.' Benedict squeezed her hand. 'Now, what shall we eat?'

If it was at all possible, the food was even more stunning than the hotel. Liv wasn't entirely sure what she was eating half the time but it all looked and tasted beautiful. On Benedict's recommendation, they had the summer tasting menu. A long line of dishes was brought out to the table, each more elaborate than the next. Plates were decorated with wildflowers and dots of rich sauces. Broad beans set in orange jelly, lavender-coloured gnocchi. By the time she'd demolished the cloud of caramel meringue floating in crème anglaise, Liv was ready for a serious siesta. The heat, the wine and the food were suddenly too much. She pushed the plate away and rubbed her stomach. 'God, I'm so full. I could do with a nap now.'

'I was just thinking the same. Let me go and organise it. I need to talk to Philippe about some business and then I'll come and join you.' Benedict got up, leaned over to kiss her quickly and then walked across the terrace. He was as gorgeous from behind as he was from the front. She loved watching his body in motion – his broad back and his hard, muscular arse flexing under his clothes as he moved, his messy blonde hair catching the light. Women on other tables couldn't fail to notice him but, to her relief, he didn't notice them. When he disappeared inside, she sat back in her chair and looked out across the elegant little village and the vineyards. Deep pink bougainvillea tumbled over every wall. Pots of lavender sat on every step. The sunshine bathed the warm, honey-coloured stone of the buildings. The whole place oozed chic and luxury. She couldn't believe her luck. She'd met someone amazing and not just met him but he'd fallen in love with her. Even after a few glasses of wine, it seemed impossible.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a polite cough. Liv looked up to see a woman dressed in a charcoal jacket and pencil skirt. She had a little scarf tied round her neck like an air stewardess. Her glossy blonde hair was cut into an immaculate bob that ended at her jawline. Like Philippe, her accent was a weird French-American hybrid.

'I'm Audrey. Monsieur Cassel has asked me to show you to your room. Would you like to follow me?'

She waited for Liv to heave herself out of her chair and then led her back through the restaurant and out of the main entrance. Trotting ahead at a slight distance, the woman walked down the winding road before taking a left down a little cobbled cul-de-sac. There was only one house on the street, sitting right at the end. It was double-fronted and three floors high. A little balcony jutted out above the carved stone doorway. The front door, like all the shutters, was painted a soft, bluey grey. Audrey waited for Liv to catch up and then pushed the door open and stood aside to let her go inside.

'This used to be the mayor's house. Everything should be self-explanatory but if you need anything, just dial '0' on the phone in the hall.' She smiled and strode back down the little road and round the corner.

Liv closed the heavy old door behind her and stood in the hall with her back to it. The whole place looked like it came from a Farrow and Ball catalogue. Dark grey chalk paint on the high walls, old terracotta tiles on the floors and vintage French furniture mixed with iconic twentieth century pieces. She took a second to appreciate the cool, silent house. After the heat and bright sunlight outside, it was a relief to come inside. She peeked round the first stone doorway into a living room. She could just imagine a tanned and slightly pissed Kate Moss draped across one of the sumptuous, grey sofas in the shuttered halflight, having an afternoon siesta after a hard morning smoking and downing cocktails by the pool.

With the idea of a siesta on her mind, Liv headed for the stone staircase. At the top, behind the first door she opened, was a room with a high bed covered in soft, cotton sheets and plump, grey bedspreads. It looked like an illustration for The Princess and The Pea. Liv smiled to herself, thinking that, after the wall-to-wall sex of the last few days, she was certainly no princess. The tall wooden shutters had been left slightly ajar to let a little light in. Liv walked over to push them shut and the room was suddenly plunged into darkness. She groped her way back to the end of the bed and slipped off her sandals. The stone floor felt beautifully cool under her feet. She peeled her dress off over her head, threw it onto the chair she remembered seeing by the bed and then flopped down. The soft mattress virtually wrapped her in a hug. Drinking at lunchtime was always a bad move but in the middle of a French summer on top of a stomach full of amazing food, the effect was lethal. Her limbs sank into the bed and her awareness of being in this room on this bed quickly faded, along with the muffled sounds of cicadas and water flowing in the fountain outside.

The feeling of something heavy woke her up. In her groggy state, Liv felt a dead weight on her hip and tried to turn onto her back to shrug it off but she couldn't move. The weight, whatever it was, was too heavy. She reached down to push it away and found that the weight was a very warm, very muscular leg. It was draped over her hip and was pinning her to the bed. She ran her hand down Benedict's leg, caressing the light scattering of blonde hair and the hard, smooth edges of his quads. He sighed in his sleep behind her and moved his hand to her waist. His fingers curled round it for an instant before relaxing as he sank back into deep sleep.

Liv liked being folded inside Benedict's hug, even if she couldn't move. She shuffled back against him. She could feel his chest against her bare shoulders and his warm breath tickling the back of her head. A few minutes later she felt something else pressing against her. Benedict's cock was steadily lengthening and thickening between them. He murmured and ground it gently into her back in his sleep. It was enough to spark that unmistakeable thread of desire between her legs. Just the idea of Benedict's cock, all hard and heavy and long, had her insides tightening in an instant. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the urgent need to look at it, to touch it, to put it in her mouth. She couldn't wait for him to wake up. She had to have it now. After three years of being afraid of sex, she suddenly couldn't get enough of it. Or quickly enough. Mustering all her strength, she managed to lift Benedict's leg just a fraction so that she could turn round to face him. Then she scooted half way down the bed, feeling her way down his body in the dark, running her hands over his chest and hard abs until something warm and damp gently prodded her in the face. The smooth tip of Benedict's cock was already oozing. She wrapped a hand around the thick base and took a couple of long, slow licks, like she'd been handed a huge scoop of delicious ice cream. After wetting her lips, she flattened her tongue and trailed it across the slit, tasting his saltiness in the sticky pre-cum. She then ran her tongue around the fat, firm ridge before slipping the whole tip inside her mouth. Tightening her lips, she slowly slid them backwards and forwards over the tip a few times. Benedict stirred in his sleep and gave a gentle, involuntary thrust into her mouth. His cock was so long and wide that her jaw was stretched almost too wide but she didn't care. She loved the feeling of him filling her completely. She could feel his silky soft skin sliding over his bulging, rock hard cock as she drew it in and out of her mouth. With her free hand, she reached round to hold on to his hard buttock so that she could guide him into her mouth more easily. Benedict groaned and thrust his cock into mouth again as she pulled him closer. She liked being pressed against his stomach in the dark. She felt cocooned in her own little bubble of sensations - his pubic hair tickling her lips as she took him all into her mouth, the heat radiating from his skin, the slight musky tang from his balls, his buttock flexing in her hand. With her eyes shut, all her senses were heightened. All she could hear was the wet sounds of her tongue and lips working away on Benedict's cock.

When she felt him reach down and fist his fingers in her hair, she slowed down. He was beginning to thrust his hips to bit too fast and she didn't want it to be over yet. She was enjoying herself too much. She kept hold of his cock with one hand and drew it out of her mouth slowly. She let her lips glide loosely over the tip and gave it one final lick before she ran her tongue down the thick ridge to his balls. The skin there tightened up as she licked her way round one and then the other before sucking one gently into her mouth. By the time she'd had both in her mouth, his balls were high and firm. Then Liv turned her attention to the soft skin in the crease of his thigh. Parting his legs slightly, she trailed the tip of her tongue slowly round past his balls to as far as she could reach before whirling her tongue around that sensitive spot between his balls and his arsehole. Benedict instantly reacted by thrusting his hips towards her.

'Please, come up here' he whispered, 'you're torturing me.'

'I'm enjoying myself,' she said between licks. 'I'm getting to know your cock and your balls.'

'They know who you are now so come up here and let me fuck you.'

Liv ignored him for a bit longer. She gently sucked his balls again and then let her tongue slowly trace its way up his cock to the tip. She dipped this into her mouth. Then, letting go of his buttocks, she kissed her way back up his stomach and chest, stopping briefly to suck on his nipples, until she reached his face.

'I so need to fuck you right now,' he said hoarsely, as he rolled over on to her quickly. He reached down and guided himself straight into her with a grunt. 'I need my cock inside you,' he said between hard thrusts. 'I need to have all of it in you.'

He slammed his cock into her. She moaned, loving the frantic, animal way he was fucking her. It wasn't just desire driving him; he seemed to have some primal need for her. She pulled her knees up and spread her legs wide, wrapping them around his waist. He pumped her fast and hard and his breathing soon became ragged. She couldn't see him in the dark but she could hear the wetness between them and his grunts each time he thrusted. His taut, sweaty body felt great sliding against hers. She could feel the slap of his hard balls against her arse.

'I love fucking you,' he uttered, getting close. 'I love coming inside you. You're so tight.'

He picked up the pace another notch, thrusting with such force that Liv's head was now wedged against the headboard. Suddenly he froze, with his cock rammed all the way in. A second later Liv felt it jerk inside her as Benedict let out a long, pained but satisfied string of 'aaahs'. He stayed perfectly still until the jerking stopped and then collapsed on top of her.

'Fuck, that was good,' he murmured drowsily into her neck. 'I'm not sure I can move now. Too. Much. Pleasure.'

'You have to – you're too heavy,' Liv complained underneath him. 'I can't breathe.'

He reluctantly rolled off her. 'I think you've killed me.'

'There are worse ways to go,' she laughed, snuggling up to him.

'Just think how proud Kate would be of you. Not only did you have sex with me, but you killed me with your vagina.'

'We'd have a party and she'd stand up in front of everyone and toast me for my superior pelvic floor. 'Liv, darling, little did I know when I marked out page 74 of the Kama Sutra for you all those years ago, that you would excel yourself in performing The Toad to such an advanced degree. Death by orgasm. Quite an achievement! Simone de Beauvoir would be thrilled that you're grasping your own pleasure by the throat.''

Benedict laughed and hugged her against him. 'Are you sure you don't write her speeches?'

They carried on talking rubbish in the dark until slowly they drifted back to sleep.
Chapter Fifteen

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur. After breakfast on their own private terrace at Domaine Cassel, they drove back to Benedict's house. Liv packed her things and Benedict sloped off to the beach for a quick surf. Then, all too soon, it was time to fly home. In the car on the way to the airport, Liv settled back in the soft leather seat and looked out of the window as the countryside passed by. Benedict took her hand in his and rested them both on his lap.

'Will you stay with me tonight?'

'Mmm, I've got work tomorrow,' she murmured, struggling to get her mind back to reality.

'But you don't start till 5, right?' He pressed on.

'Right, but maybe I should go home, just for a night?'

She didn't really want to but she thought she should be sensible. Pace things, maintain a bit of mystery, keep her own life going. All the things the dating manuals tell you to do.

'Are you backing off?' Benedict suddenly gripped her hand. His voice sounded tight and a little higher than usual. 'I need to know if you're backing off.'

'No, of course not,' she said, turning to him. He was looking at her with a slightly scary intensity. 'I thought you might need some space. You said you'd never spent the night with someone before and you've now spent three in a row with me. You must be overdue a break by now.' She leaned forward to kiss him.

'No, I can't think of anything worse. I'd prefer that you stay. Please.' He looked genuinely worried.

'If you're sure, then can we drop in at home so I can get some things and let India know what I'm doing? I haven't seen her since Thursday and I don't want her to get worried.' 'That's fine. We'll stop off on the way back to my flat.'

Liv had forgotten all about Benedict's new place. In the excitement of the weekend, Bristol seemed a long way away.

The flight back wasn't as eventful as the flight over. Benedict had work to do and Liv leafed through the Sunday papers. She was surprised by how quickly she'd got used to the luxury of high-end travel. Forty-eight hours ago, she'd been wide-eyed and overawed. Now she wasn't sure if she could ever turn right on a plane again. After a while, she put down the papers and put on her headphones to listen to some music. As she looked out the window at the endless clouds, Liv decided that she liked being suspended nowhere in particular. There were no deadlines, no decisions to make, no-one to avoid. It was like taking time out of your life and, with all the changes going on, she was glad to have a break to digest it all. Then, all too soon, she saw England appear out of the clouds and felt an immediate pang of homesickness. She'd loved being in France but she loved going home even more. Stokes Croft with its graffiti and dodgy blokes lurking in doorways, the cool parents and grungy students on Gloucester Road and the scrubbed grandeur of Clifton with its sweeping crescents and breath-taking views. She knew it was corny but she even loved the bridge. Every time she walked over it or drove underneath it, she felt like a tourist seeing it for the first time.

When they pulled up outside Cheltenham Terrace, Liv turned to Benedict.

'I won't be long. I'll just grab my work things and say 'hi' to India.'

She kissed him and got out. Just as she stepped out of the car, Rufus opened the front door of Kate and Tim's.

'Shit,' Liv muttered under her breath. She wasn't sure whether to keep on walking and ignore Rufus or to tough it out and talk to him. She decided to tough it out and knew she'd made the wrong call the second he spotted her. His face lit up and he waved enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically. He sped across to her with a big beam plastered on his face and squashed her in a tight bear hug. Her arms were pinned to her sides.

'I'm so glad I caught you. I've been wanting to call you but everyone said it was a bad idea. Mum even confiscated my phone.' He was talking very fast. 'I'm sorry for the other night.' Rufus didn't let go of her.

'That's fine, Rufus,' Liv said with difficulty, her face squashed between his bicep and his chest. 'You can let me go now.'

'I'm sorry I kicked off like that. I've taken on board everything that Mum and Dad've said and I want to get past this.'

Liv started to feel trapped and tried to wriggle out of his tight grasp. 'That's great Rufus, but you need to let me go. I can't breathe.'

This made him squeeze her even tighter.

'Please, let me go.' She felt panic rising in my chest. Her voice was getting squeaky with anxiety. She was going to suffocate. 'Please.'

Rufus completely ignored her. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and sighed.

'For fuck's sake, Rufus, let her go,' she heard Benedict yell.

Then she heard footsteps running towards them and Rufus' arms were forcibly peeled away from her. Struggling to get her breath, she bent over, pressed her palms against her thighs.

'Oh, it had to be you, didn't it? You couldn't fucking stay away.' Rufus was yelling back.

Liv looked up. Rufus wheeled around and started raining punches on Benedict, who calmly held him back by planting one hand firmly against his chest. Rufus struggled to make contact but kept going anyway. Alerted by the shouting in the street, Kate, Tim and India rushed out of the front door. Trevor got out of the driver's seat and came to stand next to Liv but didn't get involved.

'Rufus, stop that,' Kate shouted as she tried to squeeze herself between them. 'What are you doing? He's not even fighting back. Stop!'

Rufus ignored her and kept on trying to punch Benedict, whacking his mother in the face in the process. Kate stepped back in shock, holding a hand to her stinging cheek.

'Rufus, you idiot, you've punched your mother,' Tim bellowed. He grabbed Rufus by the back of his t-shirt and tried to drag him backwards. They were equally matched in size but youth gave Rufus the edge over his dad. Rufus stabbed his elbow into his dad's chest and Tim immediately let him go. Doubled over in pain, Tim reeled back.

'That fucking hurt, you stupid boy!'

Kate rushed over to console him. She steered him back to the front door, where he collapsed on the step. Rufus was still going, though he was beginning to get tired. His face was bright red and shiny from the all effort. Other than the slight tremble in Benedict's arm and the light film of sweat breaking out on his forehead, Benedict looked determined and unruffled. Liv was wondering who would crumble first when Rufus suddenly screamed in agony and grabbed his ankle.

'Fucking hell, India, you bit me!' he yelped.

He hopped around on his one good foot, clutching the other ankle with both hands. He pulled his jeans up to take a look. 'You've drawn blood! You're fucking mad!'

India got up off her hands and knees, dusted herself down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

'Yeah, it tastes a bit bloody.' She spat into the gutter. 'That was foul. I'm going inside now Rufus and I suggest you do the same, you mad bastard.'

'You can't just bite me and then order me around.' Rufus sat down on the pavement to examine his ankle close up.

'You can't just start hitting people, including Mum, and get away with it. Get inside now.' India said it in a long, low hiss. The long, low hiss that meant business. And Rufus knew it but stayed sitting down, like a naughty kid defying his mum as a point of principle. India reached down and tugged Rufus up by the back of his t-shirt.

'Up. Now. Before you make even more of a tit of yourself.' India looked at Liv. 'Are you ok?'

Liv nodded. 'I'm just going to pick up a few things. I'll text you later.'

India nodded back and then shoved a hobbling Rufus back inside. Seeing that the trouble was over, Trevor got back into the driver's seat.

Benedict waited outside by the car while Liv gathered up her work clothes. It took her a while to find them. Her skirt was under the washing basket instead of in it and her blouse was lost in the mountain of clothes on a chair. When she came out again, she saw that Benedict was deep in conversation with Kate. They stopped talking when they heard her stamping up the stairs.

'Ah, Liv. I was discussing our current predicament with Benedict.' Kate's cheek was swollen and turning purple.

'Shit, Kate, your face. Are you ok?' Liv saw Kate's eyes shine with threatening tears.

Kate swallowed them down and tried to bluster her way through it. 'I will be fine though I fear my days of street fighting are behind me.'

There was an awkward moment of silence. Liv could see that Kate was trying to find the right way to start this conversation, the one that was hanging in the air and needed to be had. Liv took her chance and jumped in first.

'Before I say this, I want you to promise not to interrupt me until I've finished. Ok?'

Kate nodded.

'I think I should move out.'

Kate opened her mouth to object but, seeing Liv's determined expression, closed it again.

'At least for a while. I don't think it's fair on Rufus or the rest of you. I can go to Italy for a few weeks and stay with my family or sort something else out. I don't want you to worry though. Please don't feel like you've forced me out. It's totally my decision. You have to put Rufus first and me being here really isn't helping.'

Kate's eyes started to shine with tears again but this time she didn't try to stop them. She took Liv's hands and looked her.

'Liv, I am so sorry it has come to this. I'm sure it will pass soon enough and you can come straight back when it does. Will you promise?'

Liv nodded. 'I'll clear my stuff out this week. I'll text India first to make sure Rufus isn't around when I come over.'

'Unrequited love can be a fucker,' said Kate as she squeezed Liv against her squashy bosom in a bone-crushing hug. Liv caught the familiar, comforting scent of Diorissimo and Sunday roast clinging to her. Kate kissed her cheek and let go of her.

'Now you, young man, take care of her. I am counting on you.' She kissed Benedict on the cheek too and then disappeared inside.

When the door closed, Benedict let out a long sigh. He looked as shell-shocked as Liv felt. 'Christ, I wasn't expecting any of that.' He leaned against the car and shook out his hand to release the tension in his tired arm.

'Me neither. Everything's got a bit out of hand with Rufus. He's really lost the plot.'

Benedict held his arms out. 'Come here.' Liv stepped between his legs and leaned her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. 'Are you ok?'

'Honestly? I don't know.' Ten minutes ago she'd been basking in the post minibreak glow of sunshine and shagging and now here she was, back in England and homeless. Worse than that, her plans for the next few years were in tatters. Without somewhere cheap to live there would be no research project. She couldn't afford it. The grant she'd won would have kept her head above water if she'd been able to stay living where she was.

Benedict rubbed her back and kissed her ear gently. 'Let's go home and we can talk about it properly. I'm hungry and I think you could do with a drink.'

'I could do with hooking myself up to a bag of wine,' Liv said grimly. 'And eating my bodyweight in tiramisu.'

'I can arrange that.'
Chapter Sixteen

On the short drive to the flat, Liv tried to get her head around what had happened. She couldn't believe that things had gone to shit so quickly. Suddenly she had no home and no project. What was next? After all, bad luck was meant to come in threes. No love life, maybe? But surely, she'd already taken a massive hit there and was only now coming back from it. Liv tried to stop catastrophising and focus instead on getting back to the flat with her dignity intact. She could just about hold back the tears if she knew she could let them out soon. They were definitely coming – she could feel the pressure building up around her eyes and her nose had started to prickle. She was desperate to be on her own to wallow in the unfairness of it all. She wanted to cry and swear and curse Rufus and bloody Meatloaf. Sodding Meatloaf and his 'two out of three ain't bad' bullshit. Liv would kill for two out of three at this point. Two out of three would be fucking amazing. One, on the other hand, was shit. Even though Benedict was undoubtedly a catch, having a boyfriend, albeit one with money and huge cock, and nothing else hardly made for a balanced and happy life. After everything, she'd been through, Liv thought she deserved more. She needed Chris Martin to help her in her pity fest. Wailing about lost love and regret while found a dark, quiet corner for a good sob. That's what she would have done at home. Or what used to be her home until half an hour ago. Just thinking that made her want to cry even more.

Liv managed to swallow down the tears in the car and then in the lift up to the flat. She avoided looking at Benedict and instead stared intently at the ceiling in the lift, willing the bloody thing to move faster. When the doors finally slid open in what seemed like cruel slow motion, Liv shot straight out and waited impatiently for Benedict to unlock his front door. Then she was inside and down the corridor to the guest room as fast as she could without breaking into a full-on run. She stopped in the door way and looked for a place to hunker down. Ideally, she liked to be alone in a small, enclosed space when she was upset. She would have locked herself in the bathroom at home. No one would have bothered her there. She could have cried all she wanted and not worried about the hideous state of her face afterwards. But she wasn't at home. She was in Benedict's flat and barricading herself into a bathroom wasn't an option. She didn't want him banging on the door asking if she was ok, worrying that she was busy slitting her wrists. She looked round the room and spotted the small space between the far side of the bed and the wall. It was only as wide as the bedside table but Liv walked round the bed and sat down on the floor. She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them hard. It wasn't exactly comfortable but she didn't care. She rested her head on her knees and closed her eyes.

On Christmas day 1997, when Liv was eight, uncle Vito ran over her cat. Tigger, an aloof marmalade tabby, was sitting on the kerb outside her parents' house, slowly licking one raised paw as he watched uncle Vito and auntie Teresa trying to wedge themselves into their little Fiat Panda. Liv and her family were shivering on the front step in their slippers, waiting to see them off after lunch. It took a while for uncle Vito to manoeuvre himself into the driver's seat. He was already a beast of a man before he'd sat down for antipasto, a full Christmas lunch, a few rounds of Quality Street and then a chaser of mince pies. Even with the car seat pushed back as far as it would go, it was a squeeze.

No amount of breathing in could help him slide his huge belly round the steering wheel. They all watched as he broke out into a sweat when it was time to put on the seat belt. His right arm was too short to reach across his belly and grab the belt and his left arm struggled back the other way to clip it in. Once he was in, he was wedged fast. He could move the steering wheel and touch the pedals but that was it. He struggled to turn his meaty neck to see if any cars were coming down the road before pulling out. He indicated and put the car into gear. Only it was the wrong gear. Unable to see the gear stick, he'd put the Panda into reverse. The little car lurched backwards and careered up onto the pavement. They all watched in horror as Tigger disappeared under the car, the crunch of small bones loud in the otherwise empty street. There was a group intake of breath and a second of shocked silence before everyone surged out onto the street. Everyone except Liv who slipped back inside the house and ran upstairs. She stopped on the landing, unsure where to go. She didn't want to go into the room she shared with her sister. Lucia never liked the cat anyway and would only tell her to stop being a drama queen. She couldn't go into her brother's room or her parents' either. Bruno locked his room to keep his sisters out and Liv's mum believed you should only lie in bed during the day if you were a geriatric close to death. Liv's mum called up the stairs. Liv looked round wildly and saw that the only door left was the one to the airing cupboard. She opened it, crawled under the bottom shelf and pulled the door shut behind her. It was dusty and there wasn't much space but she could comfortably lie on her side if she scrunched herself up into a ball. It was warm and dark and, best of all, no one else would be able to invade it. Liv rolled onto her side and tucked her hands under her head. Then she let herself cry. She thought about the horrible crunch and then the sight of her dad peeling Tigger's flattened body off the Fiat Panda's back tyre and carrying it over to the wheelie bin by his only intact paw. The crying quickly turned to hiccuppy sobbing and the cupboard door swung open. Everyone tried to coax her out but Liv wasn't going anywhere. By dinner time, her mum changed tack and ordered her to get out. 'Leave me alone,' Liv wailed as she dragged her snotty nose on the carpet. Eventually her mum gave up and slid in a plate with a slice of panettone on it. It was Christmas, after all. At some point, Liv fell asleep and when she woke up, she was in bed and it was dark. Good, she thought, more time to be by myself and get all this crying out of my system before I have to face anyone.

Liv heard Benedict's approaching footsteps in the corridor. It was Christmas Day all over again, only this time she couldn't tell him to go away. Which was a pity as it didn't sound like he was going anywhere soon. He sat down at the end of the bed.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

Liv shook her head.

'You can cry in front of me, you know.'

It was a nice thing to say but Liv wasn't sure it was a good idea. She'd already splurged enough of her own misery and disaster on him for one week. There was only so much a new boyfriend could take before he started to regret getting involved with her.

'Do you want me to stay?' Liv shook her head again.

'Ok then. I'll bring you a glass of wine and then I'll go and do some work. Come and find me when you want me.'

He got up and then came back a minute later. Liv heard the glass being set down on the bedside table. The bed dipped again as he sat down. Oh for God's sake, Liv thought, just go away.

'Maybe moving out won't be such a terrible thing,' he said. He laid his hand on Liv's back. She fought the urge to bat it away.

He just didn't get it. Living somewhere new wasn't really the issue but Benedict didn't know that. He hadn't put two and two together and realised that moving out of Kate and Tim's meant that she wouldn't be able to carry on with her work.

'It might seem like a big thing now but maybe once you've found somewhere else that you like, you'll feel differently about it.'

Liv knew it wasn't his fault that he didn't know what the problem was but she was getting angry with him all the same. She was unreasonably annoyed with him for not working it out and then even more pissed off that he was cornering her into saying it out loud.

'Is there something else?' He sounded confused.

She knew he wouldn't go away until she told him.

'I can't do my project now.' She mumbled.

'What?'

'I can't do my project now,' she repeated, this time louder.

'Why?'

Liv took a deep breath. 'I can't afford it.' It was the truth but saying it to Benedict was worse than telling anyone else she knew. Lying in his new penthouse after spending the weekend flying in his private jet to his house and vineyard in France, Liv felt awkward and embarrassed. She thought Matt was going to be the elephant in the room in this relationship but actually, now that she thought about it, money was going to be a far bigger problem. If you put the Matt episode to one side, Liv knew she was normal in lots of ways. Like almost everyone else, she didn't have enough money to buy her own place to live – in fact she could barely afford to rent somewhere – and that wasn't likely to change unless her parents offered to help her with a deposit or she got lucky on the lottery (though she never played it so how that was going to happen, she didn't know). Her parents weren't rich but they could probably get her on the property ladder. They had money left over from selling up in Bristol and moving to Italy. She knew that Benedict had been given a massive leg up by his dad when he'd inherited a ready-made property business but he'd taken that and made even more money. It might motivate him but he didn't exactly need to make any more of it. He could probably drop her entire three year's grant on a bottle of 1966 Chateau Rothschild without batting an eyelid. He'd been able to give her a £700 phone like some people tell a Big Issue seller to keep the change. Some women might have pound signs spinning in their eyes at this point but Liv wasn't like that. She thought of herself as a feminist. Not a militant feminist with a hairy upper lip and stout walking boots. More the kind that wanted everyone to be equal but also loved Taylor Swift. And didn't want to crush men's nuts in a vice. That kind of feminist wouldn't set their sights on Benedict's money. Plus, she didn't hate him for having more than her. He'd been given some and then he'd made more. That didn't make him a poster boy for patriarchy. It was just that she'd managed to get this far without any help from anyone and she wasn't about to change the habit of a lifetime by relying on a man she'd only being seeing for a week.

Liv hoped to God that Benedict wasn't one of those rich people who thought that everyone had endless money on tap. If those clueless rich people had a problem, they'd simply throw enough cash at it or, more likely, get their staff to throw cash at it while they carried on chatting to the interior decorator about plans to overhaul the orangery. Granny Campbell was a classic example. She was the most hands-off person Liv had ever met. She had a driver, a housekeeper and a hairdresser who came round every morning to wash and dry her hair. Even her dog had its own personal walker and groomer. Granny's hands had never seen the inside of a pair of Marigolds and she'd certainly never bagged up her dog's poo. If she saw Kate cooking or gardening, her nose would wrinkle in disgust and she'd say 'Is that strictly necessary, Kate? It's terribly vulgar.' Any mention of money would get the same response. Liv couldn't imagine Benedict saying anything like that but it was always possible. After all, he was used to having staff. Nannies, housekeepers, drivers. She couldn't imagine him shopping for cheaper car insurance on comparethemarket.com.

'I'm not going to tell you what to do but sometimes it's best to do nothing,' he said finally, much to Liv's relief. 'Don't decide anything tonight, especially something that big. Maybe wait a while and see if things change.' He leaned over to kiss the back of her neck. 'I'm not going to give you that 'everything happens for a reason' shit because that it's rubbish. Things just happen. You probably know that more than anyone.'

She hated to admit it but he was right. Much as she wanted to rail against the unfairness of it all, she knew logically that, in the greater scheme of things, this wasn't a catastrophe. She'd had catastrophe before, by the bucket loads, and this was nowhere near it. On a scale of one to ten, if the Matt incident was a nine and leaving her phone on the bus was a two, then this was probably only a five. No one, as her mother often said followed by a quick sign of the cross, had died. That instantly downgraded it from a national emergency. And realistically Liv knew she could deal with five. Five was a temporary hick-up. Tomorrow, once she'd got all the crying out of the way, five would most likely be a three, maximum. Everything would seem less disastrous in the morning. Only Benedict wouldn't go away and let her get on with it. She felt him gently tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear and stroke her head. His tenderness was painful. It seemed to make things worse. She could feel the tears running down her legs.

After a few painful minutes of awkward silence, he got up. 'I'll call you when dinner turns up.'

When she heard the door softly click shut behind him, Liv reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the glass of wine. She gulped it all down quickly and put the glass back. Then she let her head flop back on the bed. Whatever Benedict said, she knew that everything was different now. She wouldn't be able to live with India again. It was too complicated, even if Rufus did miraculously get over the whole thing. She couldn't afford to do her project and she wasn't going to expect anyone, especially Benedict, to support her. This was her career and she should be able to sort it out herself. She'd managed to get this far by waitressing through her master's and PhD but that wouldn't be enough to cover her fees, rent and other small, insignificant things like food. Even if she sat down in the morning and worked it all out on a piece of paper, she knew that the figures would only tell her what she already knew. That thought set the tears off again. She could feel them running down the sides of her face and pooling in her ears. She sat forward and wiped her snotty, wet face on her sleeve. Then she slumped down onto the floor and let herself have the proper cry she'd been dying for.

When Liv woke up, the room was completely dark and quiet. And someone had switched the main light off and put a blanket over her. She was a bit confused to find herself sandwiched between the bed and the wall. She sat up. Her nose was still blocked up from all the crying and she could taste the wine in her dry mouth. She staggered up onto her feet.

'You're awake.'

Liv jumped. She'd assumed she was by herself. When her eyes managed to focus properly she saw the outline of a person in the armchair in the corner.

'Shit, you scared me. I didn't realise you were here.'

'Sorry. I was worried about you so I thought I'd wait till you woke up. Are you hungry? You haven't eaten since lunch time yesterday.'

'What time is it?'

'2.30.'

'You should be in bed.'

'So should you.' Benedict got up and walked over to her. He held out his hand. 'Come on, let's eat.'

In the kitchen Liv sat on a high stool by the island while Benedict rummaged around for food and plates. She watched him in silence, unsure what to say. As he was laying out cutlery in front of her, she finally said: 'Sorry.'

He looked up at her, surprised. 'For what?'

'For having a meltdown and falling asleep and keeping you from sleeping.' He carried on setting out a place for her, putting down a napkin and a glass.

'First of all, I don't sleep much anyway.' He went to the oven, took out a couple of trays and then carried them over to the island. Liv could see that he'd ordered food from Jamie's Italian again. All of her favourites. He put a serving spoon into each one and then sat down opposite her.

'Second of all, you weren't keeping me from sleeping. I chose to sit there with you.' He poured wine into her glass.

'And third of all, you're more than justified in having a meltdown. Who wouldn't after what happened yesterday?'

'You probably wouldn't,' Liv said quietly, not daring to look at him.

'I wouldn't use me as your example. I'm weird. I think we've established that.'

She smiled but still didn't dare to catch his eye. She felt too embarrassed. Usually no one got to see her when she was upset and she was mortified that Benedict had.

'Look, let's eat now. We can talk tomorrow if you want.' He spooned some roasted aubergine and Sicilian chicken onto her plate and then handed her some bread. He looked at her expectantly.

'When did you turn into an Italian mother?' she laughed.
Chapter Seventeen

It was almost four am by the time they'd finished eating. The sky was getting lighter outside and a tinge of pink was beginning to seep up from the horizon.

'We should go to bed,' said Benedict, looking at his watch. 'We can still squeeze in a couple of hours.'

He hopped off his stool and came round to lead her to the bedroom. She took his hand and followed him down the corridor to his room. For all the minimalism, the bedroom looked cosy. Bedside lamps gave the huge bed and its grey velvety blankets a soft glow. Benedict led her over and sat down on the edge. She sat down next to him, suddenly very shy and awkward. She focused on her hands in her lap and when she eventually looked up, he was looking at her intently. Without saying a word, Benedict raised his hand to her face and gently stroked her cheek. He stroked her hair and ran his hand along her jawline, tracing the outline of her lips with his thumb. He held her gaze for a second before moving in to kiss her very gently. Tiny, light kisses on her lips with his eyes open all the while. Moved by his sudden tenderness and look of complete vulnerability, Liv reached up and cradled his face in her hands. In the lamp light, he looked even more gorgeous than usual. The soft light caught every smooth, sun kissed angle and plane and bathed his hair in a golden glow. She wanted to take in every single detail of his face, the face that was suddenly hers to look at and kiss and stroke. She couldn't get enough of it.

They sat in silence, for how long she didn't know, studying, touching and kissing each other. Liv couldn't look away. Their eyes were locked on to each other. She could feel that magnetic pull between them, drawing them closer and closer.

'I love you,' he whispered so quietly that she thought she'd imagined it. He brushed a strand of her hair away from her eyes. 'I love you.'

'I love you too,' she murmured back without.

'Really?' He sat back to look at her more clearly.

'Yes.' She leaned forward and kissed him gently again.

'Hearing you say that makes me so happy.' He pulled her in a tight hug and when he let her go, she saw that his eyes were filling up.

'What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?' she asked suddenly worried that she'd upset him.

'God, no, you've done nothing wrong. I'm just happy. I never imagined I'd feel this way about anyone, let alone imagined that anyone would feel this way about me.'

'I'm sure plenty of women have felt this way about you.' Liv said this though she didn't want to think about all the women who'd lust after him and had even had him. It was unrealistic to imagine that he'd been some sort of lonely recluse before she'd met him – a workaholic virgin who only left his desk to surf and visit his little sister. The truth was that he had that extra something that would have him fending off women in droves. Yes, he was rich and incredibly good looking but he was emotionally unavailable. Nothing could pull in women like the challenge of being the one to finally fix him.

'But I don't want plenty of women to feel this way about me. I only want you.'

'You've got me.'

He stared at her a second longer and then kissed her with an intensity she hadn't felt before. His tongue darted straight in and started circling her own. His hands were in her hair and then under her top. It was frenzied, as if he couldn't wait to have her. He wanted to be in her mouth, on top of her and between her legs. They fell back onto the bed, still facing each other, and without breaking their kiss, he began pulling his own clothes off. He tore off his jeans and boxers and then, losing contact for only a second, ripped his t-shirt over his head with one hand. He pulled her top off in the same frantic way, unclipped her bra and had her shorts and knickers off at lightning speed. Then he rolled on top of her and rested his forearms by her sides to take his weight. He looked down at her, his hair tumbling around his face.

'You're so fucking beautiful,' he whispered.

Before she could say that he wasn't exactly too shabby himself, he kissed her again. He took her wrists in his hands and pinned them down to the bed either side of her head so she couldn't move. With anyone else she might have been frightened her but she knew that Benedict wasn't being rough - he was caught up in the fierce, overwhelming grip of love. Something he'd never felt before and was struggling to contain. She could feel this huge wave of emotion and intensity pouring out of him onto her. It blocked out everything – Rufus, losing her home, her fears about the future. It was just the two of them, carried along by this surge of passion in this room. All she saw were his green eyes and the blur of his hair. Everything else melted away, out of focus. She felt his tight grip of his big hands around her wrists and the weight of his solid body on hers. His smooth chest pressed against her breasts, his hard cock digging into her thigh, his tongue exploring every corner of her mouth. When she closed her eyes, everything was amplified. Every part of her was hyper sensitive. When he parted her legs with his knee and plunged his cock deep inside her, it took her breath away. All of it felt so good – the way his cock stretched her wide and reached deep inside her, deeper than anyone had before. The way his tongue mirrored the grinding, swirling motion of his cock. His hair brushing against her face, his hard hips banging against her soft parted thighs.

He began to fuck her hard and fast with long, clean strokes. Liv lifted her hips high off the bed to meet his as he crashed into her, writhing and pushing against him. Liv wanted to feel every part of her skin against his. She wanted to feel his strengthen and push back into him with all of hers. It was rough, frenzied, animal sex. She could hear them both grunting with the effort. Their skin became slippery and they slid against each other.

Benedict suddenly released one of her hands and reached down between them. His thumb found her clit and rubbed at it hard while he kept fucking her. At any other time, his hard, fast rubbing would have been too much for her but now it was perfect. She wanted it rough. She wanted it to almost hurt. It matched her brutal, violent need for him. She grabbed his hair with her free hand and pulled him closer. His sweaty forehead rested in the crook of her neck. Between each thrust he spluttered out a word.

'I. Fucking. Love. You. And. I. Love. Fucking. You.'

Liv was too lost to answer. Her focus had shrunk to the tiny pin point of her clit. The firm rub of his thumb made her insides clench round his cock. Her legs began to tremble and she felt hot and lightheaded. When she finally came, the pleasure was so exquisite, close to painful, that she almost blacked out. It rippled out from between her legs in explosive waves and she bucked against Benedict with every pulse of her orgasm. She clutched at his hair and groaned, earthy unhuman groans she'd never made before. She pushed Benedict over the edge too and he came with one last hard thrust. She felt his cock juddering inside her as he whispered 'Fuck, fuck, fuck' into her neck.

Liv let her hips fall back into the mattress with Benedict still on top and inside her. Her legs were really trembling now. Her legs, like her head, felt light and hollow. Benedict lifted his head from her neck high enough to look into her eyes. They stared at each other in an almost religious silence. Something intense and amazing had happened to them, between them, and Liv was desperately trying to process it in her sex-addled brain.

'I meant what I said before, you know. It wasn't just heat of the moment. I love you. I know it's probably too soon to say that but it's true.'

Liv smiled and brought her hands up to cup his gorgeous face. 'I love you too.'

He dipped his head to give her the softest, smallest kiss. Then he rolled onto his side, taking her with him so that her legs were wrapped around his waist and his cock was still inside her. They lay with their heads so close together on a pillow that his breath warmed her face. They stayed like that looking at each other for a long while. At some point Benedict reached round and pulled the soft grey throw over them both and they fell asleep.
Chapter Eighteen

When Liv woke up, she was alone in bed. She was still wrapped in the grey throw in exactly the same spot where she'd fallen asleep but Benedict was gone. It was light now and she suddenly panicked about work. She started at 11 and she hadn't even got a clean uniform to wear. She vaguely remembered dumping her washing by the front door last night and then not getting a chance to throw it into the washing machine. She sat up, pulled the rest of the throw round her and got up. She opened the door to the hall and waited. There were no voices or noises so she slipped into the kitchen to grab a glass of water before she jumped in the shower. As she hunted round the kitchen looking for a glass, she spotted a note on the island.

'I had a meeting at 10am so I had to leave before you woke up. I'll work straight through till tonight and pick you up after 11pm. Your uniform is hanging up in the guest room. Bx'

Liv hurried to the guest room and found that it had become hers overnight. Her things were neatly arranged on the desk, in the wardrobe and in the bathroom. Someone had been over to her old flat, cleaned out her room and recreated it here. Her laptop and books sat on the desk and her clothes, including her uniform wrapped up in a dry cleaner's bag, were all hanging in the wardrobe. She wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or impressed. Someone had been through her things without her permission. Someone would have found her vibrator in her sock drawer. In a flush of embarrassment, she ran over to the chest of drawers and pulled out the top drawer. There, nestled among her odd socks, was the large pink rabbit. Liv felt her face flame with shame and then irritation that someone, maybe Trevor, had seen and touched (eek!) her rabbit. It wasn't that bad, she told herself, it could have been a strap-on or a gimp mask but it was bad enough. That rabbit had been inside her and now someone, possibly a stranger, had held it in their hand. She slammed the drawer shut with a hard, angry shove, and went to have a shower. She'd have to speak to Benedict about this later.

Unlike everything else in her life, work was just the same as usual. Lunch time rush, slow afternoon and then a mad dinner service until the kitchen stopped serving at 11. It was busy for a Monday, probably because the weather was so good. People were either stopping off for a drink on the way home from work or coming out to dinner later than they normally would. Bristol was suddenly running on Spanish time. Liv was so busy all evening that she hadn't had time to think about Benedict or the housing situation or the rabbit. Only the buzz of her phone in her apron pocket reminded her that she'd be seeing him very soon.

Am outside. Don't rush – I'll be working in the car. Bx

Liv looked at the time. 10.55pm. Her section was slowly emptying out. A few stragglers were lingering over coffee and dessert. She hurried to the empty tables and wipe them down for the morning. When she dropped some dirty plates and cups into the kitchen, the manager told her she could go. He'd pick up any slack until closing time. Liv grabbed her bag in the staff room and pulled off her apron. Outside, idling on the kerb by the side entrance, she saw Benedict's car.

When Trevor held the door open for her, Liv couldn't catch his eye. She slid onto the leather seat and found Benedict inside, leafing through some papers.

'Good day?' he asked, tidying them away into his briefcase.

'Manic but ok,' she answered, slumping against the soft seats. 'I can't wait to have a shower and a sit down. You?'

'Much better now that you're here.' He reached over and kissed her. 'Let's go home.'

He nodded imperceptibly to Trevor and they rolled away smoothly from the kerb. Liv couldn't find the words to chat. Twelve hours of customers' voices echoing around the huge dining room and the constant shouting and clatter of pans in the kitchen had wiped her out. Instead, she watched the people on the pavement outside. The warm evening had brought everyone out. Couples were drifting up Park Street hand in hand, pissed-up students were huddled in groups laughing and hugging, keen to squeeze the last dregs out of their summer term before they went back home. She watched them all as Trevor slowly steered the car round the Triangle and towards Clifton village and the bridge. When Benedict took her hand, she turned in surprise.

'Are you ok?' He looked concerned.

'Yes, I'm just tired. My mind tends to go blank after a shift. It's all the noise and activity. I'll be alright in a bit.' She squeezed his hand.

'Are you sure it's just that?' he pushed.

She was genuinely confused for a moment.

'What else would it be?'

'You know, last night. Rufus, the flat...' He trailed off.

She blinked and then turned away from him to look out of the window again. 'I haven't really thought about that all day. I tend to switch off when I go to work. I can't really juggle too many things in my head at once.'

'I've been thinking about it and I might have a solution. Maybe we can talk about it after you'd had a shower.'

After a beat, she said: 'I'm not taking any money from you.'

'It doesn't involved money. Anyway, let's talk about it later.'

Liv's mood shifted quickly from bone tiredness to skin prickling anger. She knew he'd offer to step in and sort everything out, possibly without even asking her. Just like moving her stuff from her old flat and into his. She had no idea what his 'solution' was going to be but the idea that he thought he could singlehandedly sweep in and make it all right pissed her off. By the time they got home, she was fuming. They waited for the lift in silence. Liv clamped her bag to her chest, not wanting to give Benedict the chance to take her hand again. She stood behind him as he opened the front door to his flat and then stamped off to the guest room without saying a word. Benedict followed her and stopped in the door way.

Liv was sitting on the bed, pulling off her shoes and throwing them to the floor. They landed with a thud that was all more dramatic in the frosty quiet. She stood up and started unbuttoning her blouse quickly. She threw it off and then stepped out of her skirt, colour rising in her cheeks as she got more and more worked up.

'What?' she spat out finally, looking straight at Benedict.

'Why are you so angry? You haven't even given me a chance to explain yet.'

'I'm angry because you assume you can fix everything in your high-handed way. Just like you moved all my stuff over here without asking me. You sent someone over to my room to go through my things. My personal things. Things I might not want someone else to see.' She heard her voice getting louder but she didn't care. 'I wanted to sort out my things myself in my own time. When I'd decided what I was going to do. Instead, you've got someone to clear my room and set me up here like we've had some discussion about me moving in.'

It was Benedict's turn to look confused. 'I thought I was helping you. You had to go to work today and I thought you wouldn't have time to go back and pick up all your things. And plus, you wouldn't have to bump into Rufus again. I wasn't trying to interfere or be high handed.'

'But you are. And I'm guessing that your 'solution' will completely bypass me and what I think or want.' Liv was aware that she was breathing hard and fast.

Benedict ran his hands through his hair. He looked totally bewildered.

'Can I sit down?' he asked, pointing to the chair just inside the door way.

'Of course you can. It's your bloody flat.'

'I don't understand any of this' he said quietly. 'I'm lost. Help me to understand what I've done and I promise I won't do it again.'

Liv felt an instant pang of guilt. He was trying to help and he'd just got it wrong. But, she had to admit to herself, she'd got it wrong too. She'd jumped to conclusions without talking to him first. We're both clueless, she thought in a moment of clarity. She went over to him and knelt down on the floor between his legs.

'I'm really sorry. I got it all wrong. I thought you were making decisions for me.'

'I'm not. I wanted to make things easier for you, save you the hassle of packing up and moving out when you've got so much else to think about. But I obviously got it wrong.' He sounded defeated. 'And now you're pissed off with me.'

'I'm not pissed off with you,' she sighed. 'I guess I'm pissed off with everything right now and I'm taking it out on you and that's not fair. I'm sorry.'

'Have I fucked things up?' His forehead was creased with worry. 'I'm scared I've fucked things up when they've been going so well.'

'You haven't fucked anything up. It would be a pretty flimsy relationship if it just took one misunderstanding to end it all. We haven't known each other that long and we're going to keep pissing each other off by accident until we know each other better. We have to keep fucking it up to get it right.'

'Really?' Benedict looked surprised, as if the idea had never occurred to him before.

'Yes, really.' She lay her head on his lap and hugged his legs. 'I'm not going anywhere.' Liv wanted to add that she wasn't his mum but she held back, not wanting to upset him anymore that he already was. Whenever he thought Liv was slipping away from him, the spectre of his mum was always hanging over them. Liv wondered how long it would take for him to really believe that she wasn't going to disappear at the first sign of trouble. It was going to take a hell of a lot longer than the short time they'd be together and, if she wanted it to work, she had to be patient. At this point, though, with all the other things going on, she just didn't know if she had the energy.

When her knees started to ache, she sat up. 'Is it ok if I have a quick shower? I can't really relax properly until I've got changed out of my work stuff. I'll be right back.' He nodded mutely and sat back in the chair.

Liv dashed into her bathroom and stripped off her underwear. She stepped under the shower and turned the big chrome lever. Hot water pulsed onto her face and she was grateful for a few minutes alone to absorb what had just happened. She'd swung from tired to livid to repentant in the space of five minutes and her brain needed to catch up. It was all over the place. And it wasn't only his money that had her reeling; Liv was also struggling to get used to Benedict's way of handling their relationship. He wanted to look after her but she had no idea what was going on in his head. And Liv needed to know. After what had happened with Matt, she needed reassurance that nothing crazy or unhinged was bubbling beneath the surface. Benedict was surprisingly open about how he felt about her but that's where the openness ended. Whatever else he thought or felt was a mystery. Just thinking about it all overwhelmed her. What she really wanted was to climb into bed and fall asleep so that her overtaxed brain could switch off and reboot for tomorrow. She sighed, knowing that probably wasn't on the cards tonight, and turned off the shower. When she'd wrapped herself in a towel and walked back to the bedroom, she saw that Benedict was lying down on the bed, facing away from her. She was hit by a wave of love looking at his messy hair on the pillow. It looked so at odds with the dark grey suit he was wearing. He looked so helpless with his knees pulled up and his shoes still on. She tightened the towel around herself and forced herself to say something reassuring when she actually wanted reassurance herself.

'Please don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.'

He didn't move or say anything. Shit, maybe he was really upset.

Liv moved closer to the bed and carefully sat down on the edge. She reached out her hand and rested it on his arm.

'I'm sorry if I upset you.' Again, silence.

When she heard a small sigh escape him, she realised he was asleep. She sent up a prayer of thanks for the reprieve. She carefully eased his shoes off, dropped her towel and switched off the lights. Then she slid into bed behind him, pulling the quilt over both of them. As she snuggled into her pillow, Liv's mood was lifted by the idea that she might get her quiet night after all.

She was jolted out of sleep by Benedict throwing the quilt back.

'Sorry,' he whispered, 'but I'm boiling. I've still got my suit on. I'll be back in a minute.'

She felt the mattress spring back as he got up. He left the room and she lay flat on her back in the dark, listening to distant noises of doors opening and taps running. Within minutes he was back and getting into bed with her again. She could smell his lovely minty breath and his skin felt cool against hers.

'Right, let's get back to sleep,' he said. He slid his arm under her head and she rolled towards him, snuggling up to his smooth chest.

'Mmm,' she murmured, drowsily. 'You smell nice.' She ran her hand down his chest. 'You feel nice too.'

She trailed her fingers down his stomach, tracing the line of soft hair from his belly button, and found that parts of his body were far from ready to sleep. His cock gently nudged her hand. She stroked its silky skin, feeling the hot, pulsing veins underneath it. She loved the feel of it in her hand. It was solid and thick and, best of all, it reacted instantly to her touch. Just running her fingertips up and down it made it harden and stretch in seconds. That made her feel powerful and sexy.

Liv slowly drew the foreskin back from the swollen tip and then back up again a couple of times. Benedict arched into her hand with each stroke.

'That feels good,' he gasped.

Liv enjoyed the slow and steady rhythm. Fisting him in a loose grip, she kept sliding his foreskin down and then back up till the tip of his cock completely disappeared inside it. It turned her on to hear him turned on too. Suddenly Benedict put his hand over hers.

'Stop, you'll make me come.'

'That's generally the idea.'

'I know but let me do something for you. Have you got a vibrator?'

'It's over there in my underwear drawer.' Any anger she felt about someone packing it up for her had totally gone, especially now that Benedict wanted to unleash it on her.

He got up, rooted around in the drawer and then padded back to the bed. He pulled Liv down to the end so that her bottom was resting just on the edge and her feet were on the floor. She couldn't see what Benedict was doing in the dark but then she felt his hands on her thighs and then his wet, warm tongue between her legs. He licked slowly up and down her lips. Parting them, he probed inside her, circling his fingers round and round in slow loops. With each circle his fingers went a little deeper inside, stretching her a little wider. Then, his fingers were replaced by his tongue, circling round where his fingers had just been. With his other hand he rubbed her clit in the same motion. Liv tilted her hips toward his face as the pleasure started to build. She gripped his head hard between her thighs, clutching at his long hair. Suddenly she heard the tell-tale buzz of her vibrator. Benedict ran the tip of it over her clit, causing her to clench hard around his tongue. She moaned and grabbed at his hair even harder. She wasn't expecting what he did next. She felt his tongue travel down to her arsehole. She wasn't entirely sure that she liked where he was going but she was distracted by the vibrator bringing her closer to the edge. He licked around her asshole a few times and then followed it with the very tip of a wet finger. It pressed lightly against the opening and then slipped just inside her. Liv hadn't ever had anal sex before. Matt had been a straightforward missionary man, with a bit of oral sex thrown in for novelty, so she'd never experienced this before. It felt weird having his finger inside her. It was the opposite of the sensations she was used to down there. Things usually came out but they didn't go in. And now his finger was in, it felt like she needed the loo. Her muscles clamped hard around the probing intruder.

'Does that feel ok?' he said.

'It's a bit weird.'

'Just go with it for a bit. If it still doesn't feel good, then tell me and I'll stop.'

'Ok.'

Liv tried to ignore the urge to run to the loo and relaxed her tight muscles a tiny amount, enough for Benedict to slip his finger in a bit further. This time Liv didn't flinch. Her focus was on the vibrator on her clit. Just when she thought she was about to come, when she was all tense and rigid and desperate for the rollercoaster to go over the edge, Benedict moved the vibrator away. She clawed the sheet in frustration as he began the slow build up again. He ran the buzzing toy slowly over her swollen lips, round the wet entrance to her cunt and then back up to her clit. He trailed it lightly on the first loop and then pressed a little harder on the next until he stopped at the firm nub of her clit. While he was doing this, he slipped another cheeky finger into her arse. Now she wasn't resisting it, Liv started to enjoy the feeling of being full up. She was a lot fuller the next minute when Benedict slipped the vibrator inside her and moved his tongue to her clit. As he fucked her with her toy, he lapped her slowly with the flat of his tongue. He flicked her with the tip of his hard tongue, dipping the narrowed point into centre of her hypersensitive clit, driving her mad with the different sensations between her legs. Liv could feel her cunt suck in the vibrator with each thrust as her muscles geared up to come. And then suddenly the vibrator was gone. She felt the wet pop as Benedict pulled it out of her. The buzzing tip moved down the smooth and slippery skin to her arsehole. He teased the opening with the toy before taking his fingers out and carefully pushing the firm rubbery tip in. Liv's eyes snapped open at the shock of something so thick penetrating her.

'Is that ok?' Benedict asked between licks.

'Yeah, weirdly enough, it is.'

He began to fuck her arse with the vibrator as she got closer to coming. The strange sensation of fullness gave way to pleasure as everything tightened inside her and she felt the wave of pleasure building to an unbearable peak. She struggled to breath and her hips rose off the bed with each lick of Benedict's tongue, desperately wanting it to push her over the edge. Finally, when she thought she'd pass out, the wave broke and spread from between her legs, radiating out through her body. Her insides clenched over and over again, stretching out her orgasm longer than it had ever been before. Benedict stopped licking her but kept fucking her with the vibrator.

'Jesus, that feels so good,' she moaned. 'I just keep on coming.'

She felt Benedict shift between her legs and then suddenly the vibrator was gone. It replaced by his warm, thick cock. He pushed the fat tip in.

'How does that feel?' he asked, before going any deeper.

'That feels good too,' she murmured.

Holding onto her hips, he steadily pulled her towards him, letting out a long low hiss as he went in.

'God, you're so tight. It feels amazing. I don't think I'm going to last long.'

Once his cock was all the way in her arse, he hooked her legs over his shoulders and started to fuck her fast. He gasped with each thrust and she felt his cock grow thicker and harder inside her. Given that she was an anal virgin, it felt even bigger than it usually did.

'I'm going to come,' he panted, grabbing her thighs hard. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck.' His finger nails dug into her flesh but she didn't care. She loved feeling his raw need for her, the way she drove him mad with desire. He couldn't get enough of her. Benedict rammed into her one last time and then froze, his cock buried in her up to the hilt. His rigid fingers curled into her thighs and Liv felt his cock spasm violently. His fingers dug even deeper into her as he kept on pumping inside her. She opened her eyes and saw that his head was thrown back. He was letting out a low, almost painful sound. Liv savoured the view. He'd filled her up everywhere - her mouth, her cunt and now her arse – and he'd loved it. She watched as he slowly relaxed his grip and tipped his head forward.

'You're so fucking beautiful,' he said, gazing down at her.

'And you're so fucking gorgeous,' she answered. 'Come here. I want to kiss you, you gorgeous man.'

He withdrew gingerly and then threw himself down on the bed beside her. They turned to face each other. He had a broad, dreamy smile on his face. They wrapped their arms round each other.

'Every time we have sex I think how amazing it is with you and then the next time it gets even better,' he said, rubbing his nose against hers. 'It's insane.'

'I know,' she laughed. 'You've ruined me for anyone else.'

His smile instantly left his eyes and he pulled away from her very slightly. There was now air between their hot, sweaty skin and Liv felt the atmosphere change dramatically. 'What's wrong?' said Liv, confused by this sudden shift. 'What did I say?'

Benedict rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

'You said I'd ruined you for anyone else,' he said in a flat voice.

'And?'

'And I don't like it.'

'What don't you like?'

'You. Thinking about sex with someone else.'

'But I'm not!' she spluttered. 'It was a joke, a turn of phrase. I didn't actually mean that I was thinking about the next person I'm going to sleep with, silly. I don't want to sleep with anyone else.'

She reached over to touch his arm but he pulled it away from her sharply and brought it up to cover his face with the crook of his elbow.

'Why are you being like that? It was just a joke. Don't you ever make a throwaway comment?'

There was silence. Benedict had obviously decided that the discussion was over.

'Oh, for God's sake,' Liv huffed and sat up. 'You were inside me less than two minutes ago, in a way that no one's ever been before, and now you're pissed off with me for a throwaway thing I've said. Something I didn't even mean.'

Benedict still said nothing.

'Are you going to say something?' She banged her fist down on the mattress. When he didn't reply, she jumped off the bed and walked round to his side of it to look at him. He kept his face shielded from her and didn't move.

'What right do you have to ignore me? I haven't slept with anyone since, since...' she struggled to find the words, 'since Matt. I've been frightened to go there with anyone. I didn't want to feel vulnerable and exposed again. And now you've done exactly that.' Liv was aware that she was shouting now. 'Well done. Top fucking marks.'

She turned away from him and stormed into her bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She snapped on the light and stood at the sink, breathing hard. In the harsh light, she glared at herself in the mirror. She had that just fucked glow to her face and her hair was all messed up. She should have been enjoying that little window of bliss after sex, stretching out her legs and then maybe floating off into a doze. Instead she was locked in the bathroom feeling really fucked off. Fucked off with Benedict and fucked off with herself for getting involved with him and making herself vulnerable. For all outward signs of being an adult, Benedict was behaving like a child. He was successful and rich but he was unbelievably immature. Even if his mum had left him emotionally stunted, he should still be able to understand that his actions had an impact, that she was fragile and he needed to be careful with her. For the second time that night, he was totally trampling all over her feelings. Moving her things into his flat was one thing, but rejecting her straight after sex was totally another. And something that she couldn't stand and, if he got his head out of his arse and out from under his arm, he'd have known that. With Rufus suffocating her with unwanted love and Benedict now freezing out, Liv suddenly had the urge to get away from everyone. Well, from men at any rate. To run away and hide so that she could get her head straight and decide what she wanted away from all the lunatics around her. The only problem was where. She couldn't go back to her old flat and she couldn't stay here. She couldn't stay and sort this out with someone who wouldn't look at her, let alone talk to her. That was no way to build a mature relationship and she had no intention of being in a relationship that was so unstable. The only option was to go and stay with her parents. It wouldn't have been her first choice but at least there she'd be far enough away to get some perspective on things. She decided to have a quick shower, throw her stuff together and then get herself on the first Easyjet flight to Naples.

When Liv eventually came out of the bathroom, Benedict was sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxer shorts waiting for her. Their eyes met for a second and then she looked away quickly as she began to pick up her things off the floor and stuff them into an overnight bag. In the shower, her anger had had time to harden into a tough shell around her. She didn't want it to crack by feeling any sympathy or love for him.

'What are you doing?' he asked.

'Oh, you can talk now, can you?' She didn't turn around.

'You haven't answered my question.'

'Well, now you know how it feels.'

He got up and walked over to her. 'Where are you going? It's three o'clock in the morning.' His voice had a frantic edge to it.

'I'm getting out of here.'

Liv found her passport on the desk and paused for a second before picking it up. She'd only used this a couple of days ago to go to France. For a whirlwind, romantic trip. How times change, she thought bitterly as she chucked it in her bag, and how quickly.

'Please just stay here, at least until it gets light. I'll go in the other room and leave you alone.' Benedict was now pleading with her.

Liv span round, unable to contain her rage any longer.

'It's a bit fucking late to start worrying about me, isn't it? Why didn't you worry about me ten minutes ago? When it really fucking mattered.'

He opened his mouth to speak but she brought her hand up to stop him.

'Actually, I don't want to know. I think I've had enough of this rollercoaster of shit for one night.'

She marched back into the bathroom and threw her toiletries into her wash bag.

Two minutes later she was fully dressed and packed. Benedict was still sitting on the bed. She didn't look at him long enough to work out what he was feeling. And frankly she didn't care. She pulled on her denim jacket. 'Right, I'm off.'

He didn't say anything.

She glared at him in disgust and disbelief and then headed for the front door, too angry and disappointed to say anything else. Once she'd slammed the front door, she was too worked up to wait for the lift so she ran down the stairs, not caring that her heavy bag was banging against her leg on every step. Her head was too full of conflicting thoughts to feel it. She felt stupid for ever having started anything with Benedict. For letting herself get emotionally attached so quickly. Angry with him for treating her badly and then letting her walk away without any fight. By the time she'd reached the lobby, she was so wound up that she was virtually running. So much so that she didn't see Trevor standing by the front desk.

'Miss?' he called as she rushed past. 'Miss?' he called, louder this time.

Liv turned in surprise. 'What are you doing here? It's three in the morning.'

'Mr Cassel asked me to take you wherever you want to go.' 'I don't need you to take me anywhere,' she snapped.

'No, but those were my orders.' Trevor sounded reasonable but firm. He had a job to do and he was going to do it whatever she said.

'Well, my orders are that I don't want you to take me anywhere. You should be in bed, anyway.'

Liv pushed the main door open and Trevor was right behind her, holding the door open so that she could get through it with her big bulky bag.

'Seriously Trevor, I appreciate your offer but I don't need any help.'

Trevor sized her up for a moment. 'It's not my place to say anything but I've never seen him so happy and from what I've seen, he makes you happy too,' he said.

'Made me happy,' Liv corrected. 'Past tense. Anyway, I'm off. Thanks Trevor.' She startled him by giving him a quick hug and then set off in the direction of town. Ordinarily Liv would have felt a bit scared walking by herself in the deserted streets at 3am but she steamed along, high on adrenaline and rage. Bastard, she found herself saying out loud, stupid bastard. And stupid me. On Park Street, Liv sat down at a bus stop and searched for a flight on her phone. Luckily it was summer and there was an early morning one to Naples. She wasn't so lucky with the buses. They didn't start running for another hour. She ordered an Uber instead and once she was in the car, she texted her brother to let him know she was coming. When she rang off, Liv held her phone in her hands for a few minutes. It was the phone Benedict had given her. She turned it over slowly a few times, feeling the weight and the smoothness of it in her hands, and then she turned it off and put it in her pocket.

The second Liv stepped out of the plane she was hit by a wave of heat and noise. The engines were slowly calming down but still pumping out brutal heat behind her. Even when she'd walked down the steps and away from the plane, the heat was intense. Naples in summer was full-on. It was hot, loud but for her, it was strangely comforting. The constant car horns, shouting and blaring Euro pop didn't scare her. In fact, it made her feel safe, like she was back in her parents' old house in Horfield, listening to a cassette of old Neapolitan songs in the kitchen while her mum fried meatballs at the stove. And here she didn't stand out. With her dark hair and olive skin, Liv looked just like everyone else here. And so did her brother.

She found Bruno lounging against a column in the arrivals hall with a lollipop in his mouth and a wry smile on his face. He'd always looked very suave and Italian, even before he'd moved here and started dressing in pink polo shirts and deck shoes. Back in England, Bruno looked like an Italian student on an exchange. In summer, his signature style was rolled up, immaculately ironed white jeans, slip on shoes with no socks and a pale jumper draped over his shoulders. All he needed was an ice cream in one hand and an Invicta rucksack on his back and he could have been any wide-eyed Roman school boy wandering round Camden market.

When Bruno passed his driving test, he didn't go for the low-slung Honda Civics with massive exhausts and tinted windows like all his school friends. He saved up all his money from working Saturdays in his parents' café and bought a dark blue Alfa Romeo. He was a strange sight in the McDonald's carpark on a Saturday night. His friends, in their baggy sportswear and oversized, practically fluorescent white trainers, skidded to a stop in their souped-up, racer boy Hondas. Bruno, in slim cut chinos, button down gingham shirts and expensive brown leather shoes, carefully parked his precious car away from the others to stop it getting scratched. Even now he was dressed like that except that his once short, neat hair was long on top and slicked back. He could have stepped straight off the set of The Talented Mr Ripley.

When he opened his mouth, though, the illusion of exotic sophistication was shattered. Bruno was still a proper Bristolian with a heavy West Country twang.

'Alright, Liv?' He took her bag from her. 'Quick visit, is it?'

It was like Zac Efron opening his mouth and finding out he came from Wolverhampton.

'Maybe,' she said, keen to change the subject. 'How are you, Brun?'

Bruno was his usual evasive self. He made non-committal noises as he steered her out of the airport and through the carpark. His old Alfa Romeo had been replaced by a soft top version, which he drove with one hand loosely draped on the steering wheel and the other over the back of Liv's seat. Given the mad, dangerous driving in Naples, Liv would have preferred both his hands on the steering wheel but Bruno cruised through the traffic, paying no attention to traffic lights or road signs and fiddling casually with his iPod. By the time they reached their parents' house, Liv's knuckles were white from gripping her seat in total terror. She'd never get used to the crazy driving. The car bounced through the archway and slowed to a halt in her parent's cobbled courtyard. Through the open door to the house, Liv could hear the sounds of cooking in progress. Pans and plates were being clattered about. She could also smell the amazing tomato and basil sauce her mum was simmering on the wood stove. Liv felt her shoulders drop with relief at the thought of being with her family and doing all the usual family things miles away from Bristol and Benedict. She knew that she wouldn't have to talk about anything important. Her family argued long and hard about all kinds of petty things but anything emotional or difficult was swept under the carpet. Bruno's lack of girlfriend (and possible interest in men), her niece's out of control eating, uncle Carmine's excommunication from the family after marrying an Irish woman – they were all ignored and instead they had heated debates about whether their second cousin Amalia had moved to New York in 1956 or 1957.

Before she'd had time to get out of the car, Liv's mum appeared in the door way, wiping her hands on her immaculate white apron. She kissed Liv on both cheeks and then enveloped her in a bone crushing hug.

'You look thin. Are you eating?' She stepped back to assess Liv. 'You look tired. Are you ill?'

'A simple hello would be nice, Mamma. And yes, I am eating and no, I'm not ill.'

Liv's mum raised her eyebrows and looked unconvinced. She turned her attention to Bruno, who was lounging against the car. Lounging was Bruno's speciality. Walls, cars, doorways. Find a stationary object and Bruno would be lounging against it.

'Where's your father?' she snapped. 'Go and find him and tell him that Liv's here. He's out in the garden somewhere.'

Bruno reluctantly headed off into the garden, hitching up his pristine chinos to save them from the dust and soil.

Liv's mother rolled her eyes and tutted. 'Honestly, he's worse than a girl about his clothes. You should see his laundry basket. It's a full-time job keeping him in those bloody cream chinos and pink shirts.'

Liv followed her mum through the door and into the dark, cool house. They walked through what was essentially a big storage room with a rough concrete floor, where they kept garden equipment and the jars of vegetables that her mother pickled every autumn. The next room, the kitchen, couldn't have been more different. Despite knocking up lunch for about twenty people, the kitchen was as spotless as an operating theatre. The white marble floors, white cabinets and white walls were as immaculate as her mum's starched apron. Liv smiled at the thought of her mum seeing the state of the kitchen she shared with India. If pushed, neither Liv nor India would be able to say what colour their kitchen floor was meant to be.

In the dining room next door, the TV was blaring. Liv knew why. Her nonna, her dad's mother, would be sitting about ten centimetres from the screen watching some terrible South American soap opera at full blast. Liv dropped her bag by the kitchen table and walked through to kiss the little old lady. Nonna was wearing an apron, though she never went into the kitchen anymore, and a black cardigan round her shoulders. Her crispy hair was dyed jet black. 'Hi Nonna.'

'Liv, you look thin. And you look tired. Are you eating?' All said without looking away from the TV screen, where an impossibly good looking doctor with amazingly white teeth was gazing at a woman in a hospital bed. Despite being at death's door, the glamorous woman was fully made up and wearing a see-through night dress that showed off her pneumatic breasts to perfection.

'I'm fine, thank you Nonna. How are you?'

'I have terrible palpitations. My legs don't work and I've got indigestion. I'm sure it's cancer. I don't think I'll be here to see next Christmas. I'll be with my Mamma and Papa in heaven.' Nonna crossed herself. And then she batted Liv away. 'Melinda is going to wake up after being in a coma for twenty years.' The woman on screen began to blink very slowly while moistening her glossy lips.

Liv went back into the kitchen.

'She'll outlive all of us, the old bag,' said her mother grudgingly. 'There's nothing wrong with her. I'm sure the GP is going to stop giving her appointments soon. She wastes his time at least once a week.'

Liv sat down at the table and enjoyed this familiar conversation. It was the same every time she visited. Everyone would tell her she looked thin and tired, Bruno would walk around like a squeamish Royal visiting an Indian slum and Nonna would claim to be dying. Then there'd be lots of shouting at the lunch table when all the others arrived. Nonna would say something to offend Zio Nino's wife Catarina. Catarina would leave the table in tears. Zio Nino would glare at his mother and then leave the table too. Everyone would tell Nonna off. Nonna wouldn't give a shit. 'I'm an old lady. I can say what I like.' Liv's mother, Carmela, would glare at Nonna and leave the table in disgust. Everyone would end up in the kitchen, drinking espresso and bitching about Nonna in hushed voices. Nonna, in true Nonna style, didn't give a shit and would plough on at the table, steadily working her way through all the food left behind. For someone on her last legs, Nonna could still put it away.

Liv's mum started the long ritual of washing each and every lettuce leaf under the running tap. Liv sat at the table, watching, and fiddled absentmindedly with a linen coaster embroidered with a picture of Mount Vesuvius.

'You look like you need a lie down. Go up now and I'll call you when it's time to set the table.'

Liv was about to argue but then realised that she really could do with some sleep. She kissed her mum on the cheek and made her way up the cool marble stairs to the guest room. It was ridiculously tidy in there as well. The big dark wood bed was covered with one of her mother's favourite quilted nylon bedspreads with a frill round the edges. There was a frilled nylon valance sheet too, the kind you only ever see in dodgy B&Bs and 1970s sitcoms. Liv had no idea people even made them anymore. She could never work out why anyone would want to sleep sandwiched between nylon when it was 35 degrees outside. At this point she didn't care, though. She threw back the bedspread and let the soft squashy mattress envelope her. She pulled up the scratchy bedspread and was swallowed by sleep before she'd had time to think about anything.

Liv woke with a start. She'd been having a panicky dream about running away from a man in a suit (no prizes for guessing what that was about). She wasn't sure whether the dream had woken her up but her heart was racing and she felt all clammy. She sat up and looked at the clock on the bedside table. 12.07am. Shit, she'd missed lunch. And dinner as well. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept for so long. God knows what her parents would be thinking. She'd turned up with a few hours warning and then slept all day. Her parents would probably be in bed by now but she went to have a look anyway. She fumbled her way over to the door, which was outlined by a faint rectangle of light. Out in the corridor, Liv saw straightaway that everyone was asleep. All the lights were off apart from the glow coming from a little cluster of tea lights on a small table by the top of the stairs. The tea lights flickered dimly, showing the pale faces of her dead relatives staring out at her from rows of photo frames. This little shrine had scared her to death as a child – she'd imagined the dead relatives talking to her when she went past - but now she just noticed that there were a lot more frames than there used to be. Liv was sure her mum couldn't wait till Nonna's photo was on the table next to them.

Liv padded down the stairs to the kitchen using her phone to light the way. She was suddenly starving and realised that the last time she'd eaten anything was in the airport before her flight. And then she'd only had a sweaty chocolate muffin. She opened the fridge and poked around the packed shelves. She knew her mum would have left her a plate of pasta from lunch time. Sure enough, she found a huge bowl covered with a plate. She put it into the microwave to heat up. Liv fished out a fork from the drawer and then stood watching the plate turning slowly in the illuminated box. Her mind was still blank. She was dazed by too much sleep and wanted to stay that way till she was safely back in bed. She didn't want her mind turning over the situation with Benedict endlessly and keeping her awake. When the microwave pinged, she took her pasta, sat down and, ignoring the burning temperature, ate it as quickly as she could. Then she put her fork and plate in the dishwasher, padded back upstairs and got back into bed.

The next thing she knew someone was jumping on her. In fact, two small people were trampolining on her pretty hard. One of them was much heavier than the other.

'Kids, get off your zia!' Liv heard her sister Lucia yell from the door way. The kids took no notice and started to whack Liv with pillows. 'Enzo, Chiara, get off now!' Lucia stormed over, grabbed a handful of their clothes and lifted them off. It took a bit more effort to get Chiara off the bed even though she was three years younger than her brother. 'Go downstairs and find Nonno.'

Liv struggled up onto her elbows. 'God, they're getting heavy, I mean, tall,' she corrected herself quickly.

'What's up with you? You look thin and tired.'

'''Yes, nice to see you too, Lucia. How are you? Yes, thanks for asking, I'm fine. You? Are you ok?" In case you're wondering that's how a normal conversation goes, Lucia.'

'Very funny. Don't try to throw me off the scent. Why

are you here? What's going on?'

Lucia came over and sat on the edge of the bed. She was a bigger, glitzier version of her little sister. Liv wore Birkenstock and jeans and Lucia was never out of kitten heels and lacy bodycon dresses. She wore lots of gold jewellery and kept her painted nails in perfect condition. She looked, Liv thought, like a stereotypical Mafia wife. Too much money and not much taste. Big hair, shiny clothes and nails so long that her finger tips couldn't actually reach the phone screen when she sent a text. On a phone that had a case covered in pink crystals.

Liv slumped back again. 'What's the time?'

'It's 11 o'clock. Don't try to put me off. Is it a bloke? Is it that bloody Rufus? What's he done this time? If he's upset you, I'll throttle him.'

Liv turned on her side so that her sister wouldn't see her lying face. 'There's nothing going on. I just fancied a break.'

'Bollocks. You don't suddenly fly in on a Tuesday morning unless you're running away from something.'

Liv debated saying nothing but she knew Lucia wouldn't let it go. Lucia could break anyone. Even Nonna had been known to cave in a fight with her. Seeing that Lucia had mentioned Rufus, Liv latched onto that. She definitely wasn't going to mention Benedict. She'd never hear the end of it if she did.

'Alright,' she said with a dramatic sigh. 'It's Rufus. He's wants to go out with me and I've had to move out of the flat because he went a bit bananas about it.'

'I knew it!' Lucia shrieked, jabbing Liv in the shoulder. 'He was so obviously in love with you. He's been in love with you for years.' She sounded so smug that Liv wouldn't have been surprised to see her doing a victory lap round the bed.

'I thought he'd get over it after a while and things could go back to normal.'

'Blokes don't work like that, Liv,' said Lucia, enjoying the chance to play the knowledgeable big sister. 'They say that they're over you but they're not. Even years later. Look at Giulio, the stupid arse.'

They took a minute to think about Giulio. His parents lived next door. The second he'd clapped eyes on Lucia, he was obsessed. He tried everything to get her to go out with him – from playing it cool to getting down on his knees and begging - but she just wasn't interested. He was too keen and too geeky. Lucia didn't want to be worshipped by a boy who liked Harry Potter and rode his mum's Vespa. She wanted to be claimed by a man with dropped testicles and his own car. In the end, when nothing else worked, Giulio got a girlfriend to make Lucia jealous but the only one who got jealous was Bruno. To complicate things, he'd been secretly nursing a crush on their neighbour and was glad that Lucia wasn't interested. Giulio ended up marrying his girlfriend and even now, when he visited his parents with his wife and kids in tow, he'd stare over the wall at Lucia with the same teenage longing.

'Giulio needs to get a grip,' said Liv. 'He's married with kids, you're married with kids. And, anyway, you're not interested. You never have been.'

'I know. That's exactly what I mean. On the outside, it looks like he's moved on but he hasn't really. He's still the creepy stalker next door,' Lucia said with a shudder. Then she expertly steered the conversation back to Liv. 'Anyway, why is this thing with Rufus such a big deal?'

'Because if I don't have anywhere cheap to live then I can't afford to do my project.'

'Right. And that's it?'

'What do you mean, 'is that it?' That's fucking huge for me. It's what I've worked for for years.' Liv felt her hackles rise, like they always did when they talked about her career. Lucia didn't get it. She'd hated school and counted down the days till she could leave and train to be a hairdresser. She couldn't wait to get out of her school uniform and be an adult with her own money.

'Maybe Mum and Dad could help you out. They gave me some money to set up my salon. And they paid for my wedding.'

Liv was surprised her parents had any money left after Lucia's wedding. Lucia insisted on going to Milan to buy her wedding dress and, despite going to the mecca for fashionistas, she'd managed to find the tackiest, and most ridiculously expensive, dress. White was predictable and boring, she said, gold was so much better. She found a gold dress that shimmered like a Quality Street wrapper. It was strapless and skin tight down to her knees where it flared out into a massive train of ruffles. When the two shop assistants had finally managed to zip her into the sample size dress, Lucia had admired herself in the floor length mirror, swishing the train with one hand like a flamenco dancer. It was only when she tried to sashay around in it that she found the dress' fatal flaw. She couldn't walk in it. It was so tight round her thighs that she could only shuffle. Liv and her mum tried to talk her out of it but Lucia wasn't going to be swayed. In the mirror she saw Dita von Teese, a glamorous, sophisticated 1950s siren. Liv and her mum (and the two shop assistants who disappeared for a giggle out the back) saw a hobbling gold Barbie who could set herself on fire with the friction between her thighs. God knows what Fabrizio saw when he stood by the altar waiting for Lucia to shuffle her way down the aisle. With a huge stiff veil on her head and a bouquet of bright orange flowers, she was a bride drawn by an eight-year-old girl with a glitter pen.

Liv's dad wasn't too impressed with the dress either but for entirely different reasons. It didn't offend his sense of style; it overtaxed his wallet. Liv remembered the conversation between her parents when they'd got back from Milan. She was sure most of their neighbours in the next three streets remembered it too. Word for word. Her mum wisely refused to put a precise price on the dress so her dad had resorted to an increasingly shouty game of twenty questions. Being a man, the questions were mainly about vehicles.

'More than a Vespa?' he said, pacing up and down in the dining room.

Sitting at the dining room table studying her hands very closely, her mum said nothing but nodded her head slightly. Just a tiny dip. 'More than a Fiat Panda?' Another tiny nod.

'A Punto?'

Another tiny nod.

'More than one of those ugly people carriers?'

More nodding.

'For God's sake, Carmela, tell me it didn't cost more than a tractor!' he yelled.

Carmela didn't look up and she didn't nod either.

'Did it cost more than a tractor?' he shouted, stamping his fist on the table so hard that the peaches in the fruit bowl jumped about 10 centimetres into the air. Liv, Lucia and Bruno watched the fruit clatter back into the bowl from the safety of the kitchen.

Carmela knew exactly how much a tractor cost. Her husband had been lusting after one for months. There was a pile of brochures on his bedside table and another one in the downstairs loo. Carmela winced and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. In the few seconds of silence that followed, Liv, Lucia and Bruno wondered if their dad had actually seen the nod. He was frozen to the spot, wide-eyed and motionless like a mad scientist having a Eureka moment. Then the spell was broken. He swiped his car keys off the table and stormed out of the house. The bang of the front door echoed through the house and was followed by the sound of a car gunning through the courtyard and then out onto the street with a squeal of tires.

'Well, that went better than I expected,' said Carmela, standing up and calmly smoothing down her apron.

'Really?' asked Lucia.

'Yes,' said her mum, heading off to the kitchen. 'At

least he didn't take his shotgun.'

Liv knew her parents would have put by some money for her own wedding – all Southern Italian parents did from the second their daughters were born - but she wasn't sure they'd have any left over to pay for anything else. Weddings were ridiculously expensive and plus, her dad was retired now. She couldn't expect them to fork out and in any case, she didn't. She'd have to find a way to sort this out herself or not do the project at all.

'I wouldn't be comfortable with that,' she said, finally to Lucia. 'I'll think of something.

Anyway, let's go downstairs and eat. I'm starving.'

Lunch unfolded pretty much as usual. A mass of aunts, uncles and children turned up and squashed Liv in bone crunching hugs. They all sat down for a huge plate of pasta, followed by a huge plate of steak, followed by a huge plate of salad. Nonna threw out cutting remarks now and then, auntie Catarina began to dab her eyes and sniff and uncle Vito's face started to glow with suppressed rage. Sensing he should grab a quiet moment before uncle Vito exploded, Liv's dad got up to propose a toast. He raised his glass and opened his mouth to congratulate Liv on her success but his mother, sitting on one side of him, had other plans.

'Sit down, Vittorio,' she snapped, dragging on his sleeve.

Confused, he started to sit down.

Liv's mum, sitting on his other side, put her hand out to stop him. 'Don't sit down,Vittorio. Don't let your mother tell you what to do, you're not a child anymore.' Liv's mother leaned forward to glare at Nonna.

Liv's dad dithered, unsure whether to stand up or sit down. As usual he let Nonna win. She pulled him back down into his seat and then she stood up, folding her arms and jutting her chin out. Not for the first time did Liv, Lucia and Bruno see shades of Mussolini in Nonna. Their own tiny, geriatric dictator with a cardigan round her shoulders. Liv tried to stifle a giggle and didn't dare look at her brother and sister.

'Liv is my only grandchild with brains,' Nonna began.

There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone at the table and then a clatter of cutlery as everyone dropped their forks in shock.

'She looks too thin and tired but at least she's got something between her ears. Which is more than I can say about the rest of you.' She pointed at Lucia. 'You, you can't see that your daughter is fat. Fatter than a whale. I can't bring myself to look at her at the table. It's worse than watching one of those Japanese men who fight in nappies.'

Lucia stood up abruptly and began to point furiously at Nonna as she tried to find the words to shout but Fabrizio, shrugging his shoulders in apology to his parents-in-law, dragged her off to the kitchen before she could say anything damning. Completely unruffled by her great grandma's criticism, Chiara took the opportunity to swipe the leftovers from her mum's plate.

Nonna then pointed at Bruno. 'And as for you. What do you do apart from mince around in your white trousers all day? And if you think you're bringing a man home to marry, you can think again. I might be old but I'm not stupid or blind, like your parents.'

Bruno's face flamed in embarrassment and he couldn't get away from the table fast enough. He disappeared upstairs.

Liv's mother sprang up from her chair and threw her napkin on the table.

'You, old woman, are an evil old witch,' she yelled, jabbing her finger at Nonna. Her husband put his hand on her arm to stop her. Irritated, she brushed it off and carried on.

'This is my house and if you think you can talk to everyone like that, then think again. Being old doesn't mean you can be a total bitch.' She eyeballed Nonna furiously and then stamped off into the kitchen. Her husband shrugged his shoulders and followed her.

Nonna was unfazed by the mass walkout. She turned back to Liv. 'As I was saying, you are the only one with brains in this family. I'm not going to live for ever' (she made the sign of the cross while a muffled 'Yes, you will, you'll outlive us all, old woman' came from the kitchen) 'and I don't to waste my money on fattening up any more children. And certainly not on more cream trousers for that cretin. I want to give my money to you so that you can study and finally make this family proud.'

Liv gulped, unsure what to say to bring this terrible conversation to a quick close. The uncles, aunts and cousins were staring at her intently. 'That's very kind of you, Nonna, but I can't take your money. I'm sure I'll find a way to pay for myself.'

'Rubbish. You need my help. I spoke to that woman. That posh one with the stuck-up oldest daughter and the idiot son who's in love with you. And the youngest daughter who always looks filthy. That one, she told me.'

Kate?'

'Yes, that's it. Kate. She rang last night. She said that you couldn't live with her anymore because of her idiot son and you'd run off. She said some man – Benjamin, Benito or something – was looking for you. He rang her and she rang us to check if you were here.'

'Did you tell her I was here?'

'Of course I told her you were here.' Nonna looked outraged, like her honour was being called into question. 'Do you want me to lie?'

'No, of course not, Nonna. What did she say?' Liv's heart started to race.

'What does that matter? All that matters is that you need help and I'm generous enough to give it to you. I am the head of the family, after all.'

'Yes, that is very generous of you Nonna but what did

Kate say?' Liv pressed.

'She said that I was a big-hearted woman and that she'd tell this Benito that you're here.'

Benedict knew she was here. That was the last thing she wanted. Liv jumped out of her seat and ran all the way up to her room. She already knew it was too late to do anything about it but she had to check all the same. She snatched her phone from the bedside table and switched it on. It took ages for the home screen to appear. When it finally did, Liv waited a minute to let the texts and calls stream through to her phone. And they did. One after another. She scrolled frantically through the texts. India was asking where the fuck she was, Kate was asking her to call and let her know she was ok. The voicemails were from Kate and India too. The string of missed calls were from Benedict.

'Arsehole,' she muttered, hating him for not even having the decency to leave a message. He could at least have the balls to say sorry to her phone if he couldn't manage it to her face. Liv called India, who answered on the first ring.

'What the fuck's going on, Liv? I had Mum on my back all of yesterday and then bloody Benedict turned up in a right state looking for you.'

'I'm in Italy visiting my parents.'

'I thought you might be but why the fuck didn't you tell anyone?' Liv was quiet.

'I know it's Benedict. You might as well tell me. What did that twat do?'

'He really upset me off and then I had to get away. I couldn't come back to you so I came here. I feel like a total idiot now. Everyone's running round looking for me like I've been kidnapped or something.'

'Don't worry about Mum. You know she loves a drama. Plus, she knows you're alright now. What the hell did he do to piss you off so much, anyway?'

Liv tried to find the right way to sum up their fight. 'I made a stupid joke that he totally took the wrong way. He wouldn't talk to me. And he should have been the one saying sorry.' She felt a surge of anger as she remembered what had happened.

'What the hell did you say?'

Liv sighed, thinking that they'd argued over such a pathetic, little thing. It sounded even more pathetic now that she had to say it out loud to someone. 'I said that we had such great sex that he'd ruined me for anyone else. I didn't mean it literally, like I was going to sleep with someone else. I was just talking rubbish but he wouldn't accept that. He refused to talk to me.'

'And that's it? God, he's so sensitive.'

'Yeah, and so insensitive to me. He should have thought about how exposed and vulnerable I'd feel after I'd slept with him. I haven't slept with anyone since Matt. It was a huge deal for me and then I say one stupid throwaway thing and he treats me like I'm some sort of slag, planning my next conquest.'

'Jesus, what an insensitive prick.'

'I'm so glad you said that. I was beginning to think that maybe I was the one who'd got it wrong. I was so wound up at the time, I didn't know what to think. I'm not sure if I overreacted.'

'He's totally being a dick, Liv. It's definitely not you, it's him. I think he knows that too.' 'Really?'

'Yeah, he looked mortified when he left here. Kate gave him a right talking to. I sneaked upstairs and sat in Mum and Dad's kitchen so I could hear what they were saying.'

'And what did she say?'

'She started off by saying that she understood he'd had a terrible childhood, poor him, blah, blah, blah, and then she laid right into him. You know Mum. She softens you up and when you're feeling all secure, she lays right into you. I heard her say something along the lines of 'after all that poor girl's been through, you should be ashamed of yourself.' Lots about him having a total overreaction and needing to grow up. Fair play to him though, he took it and didn't get all stroppy like me and Ruf do when she tells us off.' Liv digested this for a moment.

'When are you coming back?' India asked.

'Soon. Nonna's doing her usual hatchet job on everyone so I don't think I'll last longer than a couple of days. I'll try to get a ticket for Saturday.'

'Ok, well, text me and let me know. And do not, under any circumstances, text, talk or see Benedict. Until he grows up and says sorry, he is the enemy. Remember, the enemy.' 'Yeah, don't worry. I know that.'

Unfortunately, Liv knew that, enemy or not, she wouldn't have much control over when she next saw Benedict. He wouldn't wait for her to come back. If the way they'd met had taught her anything, it was that Benedict was single-minded once he'd got an idea in his head. If he thought he was in the wrong, and Kate had told him as much, he'd be on a mission to find Liv and say sorry. But she didn't want him turning up here. For one thing, she hadn't decided if she could forgive him yet. She was still too hurt and angry. And then there was the small issue of her family. She hadn't told them about Benedict. If he came to find her, they'd assume it was a serious relationship and then she'd never hear the end of it. A casual boyfriend didn't fly in from another country to pop in and say hi. And if they met Benedict, they'd see that he was anything but casual. He was about as serious and intense as you could get without being some kind of psychopath. Her mum would start hassling her about getting married the second he left the room.

Liv sat down on her bed and tried to think. Should she swallow her anger and call him? Convince him to wait for her to get back to Bristol? It had to be better than waiting for him to turn up at the front door. So, for the second time in 24 hours, she wearily googled Easyjet on her phone. She was busy choosing her seat when she heard the doorbell ring downstairs. No one answered it, probably because they were all still bitching about Nonna in the kitchen. A minute later it rang again, this time harder and for longer. The next thing she knew Nonna was yelling up the stairs in her poshest voice.

'Olivia, that Benito is here to see you.'

Liv stood up in a panic. Why the fuck did he have to come here? And so quickly? She wasn't ready to talk to him, let alone see him. What was she going to say? How should she act? And what the hell did she look like? A quick glance in the dressing table mirror told that she didn't look good. She was still in her pyjamas bottoms and she had squiffy bed hair and pillow marks on her cheek. Liv grabbed a dress out of her suitcase and then tied her hair up into a topknot and applied some pink lip gloss. It wasn't exactly a makeover but it was the best she could do in an emergency. She smoothed down her dress and reluctantly left her bedroom, feeling nervous and sick. At the top of the stairs, she gripped the bannister hard for support and concentrated on getting herself down them with some dignity. She kept her eyes on the stairs until she got to the last step and then she forced herself to look up. Benedict's face was even more beautiful than she remembered. It wasn't only beautiful; it was also very sad and drawn. He looked like someone who'd come to tell a little girl that he'd accidentally run over her new puppy. Bastard, Liv thought, how can he be so maddening and gorgeous at the same time.

For once Liv was glad of Nonna's brutal lack of social grace.

'Lucia!' she yelled through to the dining room. 'Make some coffee. Liv has a guest.' Then she turned to Benedict with a dignified smile, as if she hadn't just been screaming like a fishwife. 'Come in, Benito.'

'It's Benedict,' Liv corrected. 'Benedetto in Italian.'

'Ah, Benedetto. That's a nice Catholic name. Follow me.'

Nonna marched ahead and Liv was about to follow her when Benedict stopped her.

'I need to talk to you,' he said urgently. He reached out to grab her hand and she stepped back.

'Please don't touch me,' she whispered.

'Oh God, Liv, what have I done?' He looked horrified.

Liv was saved from answering by Chiara and Enzo, who'd run out to see who the mystery guest was.

'Are you Zia Liv's boyfriend?' asked Enzo with a smirk.

Benedict looked at Liv. 'You'll have to ask your aunt that.'

'Honestly, you two, you're so nosey.' Liv tried to hustle them back into the dining room.

They weren't moving.

Chiara nudged Enzo. 'He must be her boyfriend. Look, she's gone all red.' They both sniggered.

Lucia bustled into the hallway and shooed the kids back inside. 'Go and help Nonna tidy up.' She turned to Benedict, slowly taking in every detail in that brazen way that Italians have. Once she'd scoped the goods, a flirty smile spread across her face and she held out her hand.

'I'm going to have to introduce myself as Liv's lost the ability to speak. I'm Lucia, Liv's sister. Liv, don't keep him standing in the hall. Bring him into the dining room.'

The dining room Liv had left and the one she went back into couldn't have been more different. For a start, everyone was back round the table. And they were pretending to chat but really they were straining to hear what was going on in the hall. They stopped the charade when Liv walked in and fourteen expectant faces turned to stare at Benedict. Then fourteen faces swivelled to Liv's mother, who came in from the kitchen with a tray full of espresso cups and little macaroons.

'Sit,' she said to Benedict, pointing to her empty chair next to her husband.

Benedict sat down and slid a parcel to the middle of the table. 'These are for you,' he said to Liv's mother, who was busy smiling at Benedict while nodding at Liv to sit in the empty chair next to him. Someone had squeezed in an extra chair at the table. Liv didn't want to sit there, in fact she'd prefer to be sitting in another room, in another house and in another country but her mother had different ideas. Carmela raised her eyebrows at Liv. Liv knew that it was an instruction and so she reluctantly squeezed herself between Benedict and uncle Vito. Uncle Vito, the cat killer, was even bigger now. He made the chair look tiny, like a child's chair, even though it was the same size as everyone else's. He overhung the seat by a fair bit, forcing Liv to shift further towards Benedict than she wanted. Wedged in the tight space, her leg touched Benedict's and she felt that immediate crackling attraction between them. It made her heart speed up. She couldn't trust herself pressed close to him so she slipped her hands under her legs on the chair. That way there was no chance of them wandering.

'So, Benedetto,' said Carmela, handing out the small cups of coffee. 'Have you been to Naples before?'

There was silence round the table as everyone waited to hear what the stranger had to say.

'I have actually, quite a few times, and it's always a much more sophisticated and cultured place than people would have you believe.'

That's an instant brownie point, thought Liv. Neapolitans love anyone who loves their city. Especially as most people, particularly other Italians, love to hate it. True to form, all the adults at the table smiled and nodded vigorously.

Carmela pushed on, determined to find out if Benedict was telling the truth or just playing nice. 'Which bits do you like, Benedetto?'

To Liv's surprise, Benedict reeled off a list of the city's most impressive buildings and historical monuments. He topped it off with a few of his favourite restaurants and cake shops. He seemed to know a lot about traditional Neapolitan cakes. Either he was a secret binge eater or he'd learnt the Wiki on Neapolitan pastries off by heart.

As if on cue, Liv's mother reached for the parcel on the table and began unwrapping it. Inside was a tray full of traditional Neapolitan cakes from the best pasticceria.

Brownie point number two, thought Liv. Benedict had clearly read the handbook for impressing Neapolitan mothers.

'How thoughtful,' said her mum and began to pass the tray round the table. Everyone took one and ate it silently as they continued to stare at Benedict. Liv turned her head very slightly to look at him out of the corner of her eye. She didn't want him to know that she was looking at him. She wanted to keep her distance until she'd decided what to do. She knew she wanted him – the feel of his hard thigh against hers was enough to tell her that - but she didn't know if she could handle being with him. Much as she wanted to ravage him, he was confusing. She couldn't deny that she was flattered by his commitment to tracking her down and wooing her. Not many of her boyfriends had sat in a café for days on end just to speak to her but that didn't excuse the way he'd been so immature and insensitive. It made her question if she really did love him after all. Loved him in the way that sensible, mature people love each other not the way crazy, infatuated teenagers do. Liv didn't have much time to think about it as she was suddenly aware that the room had gone silent and everyone was looking at her.

'Liv?' her mum asked.

'Sorry, what?'

'Benedetto says he can take you back to Bristol with him. I think that's a very kind offer.' Her mum looked deeply impressed by Benedict. She'd obviously found out about the plane.

'Er, yes, that is very kind,' Liv agreed. 'I'm not sure when I'm leaving though.'

'Well, why don't you two sort that out between you,' said her mother, getting up from table and motioning that everyone else should follow her.

Carmela, Lucia and auntie Catarina fussed around the table, collecting up cups and napkins, and then retreated to the kitchen and shut the door. The men stepped out into the garden for a cigarette and the kids legged it to the living room and switched on the TV.

Suddenly it was just Liv and Benedict.

He turned his chair round so that he was facing her. Liv kept staring straight ahead hoping that this awkward conversation wasn't going to happen, especially with her family straining to hear every word through the kitchen door, a door which had been left slightly open just for that purpose. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Benedict reach out to touch her, then hesitate and pull his hand back.

'Shall we go for a walk?' she asked, suddenly desperate to get some physical distance between them.

'Sure.'

'I'll just get my sandals and my glasses.' Liv shot out of her chair and upstairs to her room. She sat down on the bed, slipped on her sandals and slid her sunglasses up onto her head. She sat for a second longer, panicking. She hoped to God that she'd instinctively know what to do or say because at this precise moment she knew exactly nothing. Well, not quite nothing. She knew that her body was betraying her feminist principles. She could feel that sharp, almost painful pull deep between her legs. She wanted Benedict inside her but she wasn't sure if that would just lead her to more confusion and upset.

She found him waiting by the front door.

'Where are we going?' he asked, as he followed her outside.

'Let's walk down to the piazza,' she said trotting down the path to keep some distance between them. Out on the street, a uniformed driver was leaning against a sleek black car fiddling with his phone. When he saw Benedict, he straightened up.

'I'm not leaving yet, Domenico,' Benedict told him.

Domenico nodded and resumed his slouch.

Now that lunchtime was almost over the streets were starting to get busy again. Liv liked the lunchtime lull, when everyone disappeared inside, the traffic died down and all you could hear was the chink of cutlery on plates and the blare of TVs drifting through open windows. When she was little and visiting for the summer holidays, she used to wait till lunchtime to take her uncle's clunky old bike for a ride round the streets. Normally she was too scared to cycle here – even as a kid she knew that Italian drivers were insane and wouldn't make any concessions for her – but between 12 and 2 she could safely peddle around the empty cobbled streets on the old boneshaker. Now, though, people were drifting back outside again. Shop owners were rolling up their metal shutters and opening for afternoon business. Old ladies were settling into the garden chairs by their front doors, ready for another session of people watching and crochet. Teenagers on Vespas picked their way through the pedestrians. Liv expertly dodged them but Benedict was struggling to keep up.

'Liv, wait,' he called out.

She stopped and grudgingly waited for him to catch up. She kept her eyes firmly fixed on the ground.

'I really want to talk to you. I need to talk to you.' He sounded genuinely pained and when Liv looked up, he didn't look like his usual confident, unreadable self. She could, maybe for the first time, see the turmoil on his face.

'The piazza's just round the corner,' she said. 'We can sit down on a bench there if you like.'

'Yes, that would be great.' He gave her a small, tentative smile. He fell into step beside her and followed her down a narrow side street to the grand square at the end. They crossed over to the garden in the middle of the square and found a bench in the shade. They sat down. Benedict swivelled round to look at her. Liv, unsure what she should do or say, didn't move.

'Liv, could you turn around, please? I want to apologise properly and I can't do that if you won't even look at me.'

Reluctantly, Liv shifted round slightly, not enough to face him directly but enough to show a bit of willing. She kept her eyes focused on the patch of scrubby grass she could see just over Benedict's shoulder.

'I've been so fucking stupid, Liv. I'm sorry.' He stopped and she heard him take a deep breath to compose himself. 'I've gone over what I want to say so many times in my head but now that you're actually here I can't get the words out properly.'

Against her better judgement, Liv looked up at him. His eyebrows were pinched together and she could see that he was trying really hard not to let any emotion out. Instinctively she reached out to touch his face. As soon as she did, a tear spilled down his cheek. When she brushed it away with her thumb, he reached up and put his hand over hers.

'You're so lovely, you know, and I never meant to hurt you. But I know I did. Really badly. And I'm so sorry. I know you weren't being serious about sleeping with someone else but just you mentioning it totally crushed me. I want you to be mine and the idea of anyone else touching you or taking you away made me so furious and scared. I know it's really immature - believe me, Kate made that very clear – but I just couldn't stop myself.' He reached out to take her other hand and laced his fingers through hers. 'I don't want to be like that but I don't know how to be anything else. I'm going to try really fucking hard, though. I hope you can stick with me while I try.'

Liv knew she should probably let him sweat for a while or at least say something noncommittal but the impulse to kiss him was too strong. Now that she was here in front of him, close enough to see each little crease in his full lips and each gold fleck in his green eyes, the magnetic pull between them was too much for her to resist. She wanted to feel his lips again and know that everything was alright. It wasn't the most sensible way to fix an argument but Liv realised that their relationship was far from normal and maybe the usual rules didn't apply. They seemed to be connected in some way that was above and outside them. And it wasn't something they could ignore. Liv wasn't religious but she imagined that the connection she had to Benedict was something close to spiritual. Maybe this was how people felt about their faith – drawn to something higher that bypassed any logic or desire. Being away from him for a couple of days made her understand what Benedict meant when he said he wanted to be with her all the time. They might struggle to communicate at times but being together was just right. It made sense of everything. Liv felt all of that as she pressed her open lips to his. She looked into his eyes and saw it reflected back to her. Liv stroked his face, feeling his stubbly chin, his sharp cheekbones and his smooth forehead. She ran her fingers along his brow, trying to rub away the worried frown. And the more she saw looked into his eyes and felt his beautiful face, the more she was overwhelmed by the intense feelings flowing between them. She was aware of her heart in her chest. It almost felt as if it were expanding as they sat there and her chest wouldn't be able to contain it.

'I love you,' she whispered, breaking their kiss for a second.

'I love you too,' he whispered back. 'Will we be ok?'

'I think we'll be just fine.' He smiled.

'But only if you fuck me soon. Very soon.' She kissed him harder, plunging her tongue into his mouth and fisting his hair in her hands. She suddenly needed to be naked and wordless with him.

'Let's get to my hotel, then.' He stood up and pulled her up beside him. They walked out of the square and back down the little side street. Their fast walk turned into a jog as they raced to get back to the house. Liv held his hand and pulled him along behind her on the busy, narrow street. She steered him round the greengrocers' stalls, the teenagers on their scooters and the old ladies people watching in their garden chairs. The busyness of the street made them more frantic. Liv's heart was pounding hard with a mixture of excitement, need and desire. She was panicked by the idea that they might not be able to get away from her family and get the time alone that they desperately needed to reconnect.

When they got back to the front gate, Domenico was ready and waiting by the car.

'We'll be five minutes and then can you take us back to the hotel?' Benedict said.

Domenico nodded and got into the car.

The men were still sitting in the garden, smoking and drinking espresso. Liv's dad was passing round his tractor brochures. They nodded as Liv and Benedict ran up the path and into the house.

The women, apart from Nonna, who was parked in front of the TV, streamed out from the kitchen to get the latest update.

'I'm just going to get some stuff and then I'm going out,' Liv called as she ran up the stairs to grab her bag and some sexier underwear. In her room, she jammed her make-up and some lingerie into a bag and then ran back downstairs before her mother or Nonna had time to undo all her good work.

'It's been a pleasure to meet you, Benedetto,' said Liv's mother, grabbing him by the arms and kissing him on both cheeks. 'We hope to see you again.' She looked at Liv expectantly.

The others took their turn to manhandle him too. They were all smiles and compliments.

All except for Nonna.

'I hope you marry her before I die,' she yelled from the living room over the blaring soap opera.

Before Liv's mother could diffuse the situation by chipping in with her usual comment that the old bag would outlive them all, Benedict cut in.

'So do I,' he called loud enough for Nonna to hear.

Everyone looked at Liv in surprise. Liv looked at Benedict in surprise. She was as shocked as any of them.

'I think we should go!' she muttered, grabbing Benedict's arm and pulling him outside before he could say anything else.

Her dad and the others all lined up to shake hands and double kiss Benedict and then, finally, they escaped out of the front gate and into the cool, air-conditioned car.

'What the fuck was that all about?' Liv said, crossly as she sank back into the seat.

'What?' Benedict asked coolly, smiling and waving out of the window at Liv's family, who were grouped round the gateway. They smiled and waved back enthusiastically. Liv could only imagine the conversation they'd all have once they'd got back inside the house. Her mum would be ringing up the parish priest to see if he had any available slots for weddings next summer.

'You know what I mean.'

'You mean about getting married?' His tone was light and unruffled. They could have been talking about what they were going to have for dinner.

'Of course I bloody mean about getting married. You can't just joke around like that with Italians, especially round here. They'll take that as some sort of promise. They'll expect you to actually do it.'

Benedict examined the nails on his free hand. 'But I DO want to actually do it,' he said.

Liv wasn't expecting that. She thought she'd have to explain the basics of Neapolitan dating to Benedict. That going out with someone wasn't the casual thing it was in England. Generally, if you had a boyfriend here, you kept it secret until you were sure it was serious. Then, and only then, would you get the family involved. Liv had seen her cousins married off to people they didn't actually like just because their parents had caught wind of a relationship and then it was game over. It was so different to her life back in England. India introduced blokes to her parents all the time. With their liberated attitude to sex, Kate and Tim fully expected, if not demanded, that India work her way steadily through a long line of men while she was young. They hadn't been able to so she damn well would even if she didn't bloody want to. India obliged them by getting through men at warp speed. Her parents would sit by their living room window in their dressing gowns on a Sunday morning, armed with tea and the papers, and wait for the latest hungover conquest to stagger up the steps from India's front door. Liv often thought they watched the dirty stopout leave the way other parents watched their children pick up their degrees. With pride at a parenting job well done. In Italy, though, introducing someone to your parents, let alone bringing someone home for a shag, was as good as booking the church.

'You can't say that. We hardly know each other.'

'I know enough to want to marry you. I know that I love you and that you love me. And that I don't ever want anyone else. That's basically the deal with marriage, right?' He turned to look at her. Despite his tone, his expression was anything but casual. It was suddenly intense and very serious.

'I suppose it is,' she said quietly. She rested her head on his shoulder and looked at their hands entwined in his lap. She wasn't sure what else to say. She could argue and say that it was ridiculous to be talking about getting married. They'd been seeing each other since last week and they'd already had a massive argument and she'd run off to Italy. That was hardly the stuff of romance novels. Woman with heavy emotional baggage meets man with heavy emotionally baggage (and potentially a small child to look after). They have lots of hot sex but man is immature and they fight and woman is so pissed off that she jumps on a plane to get at least three countries between them. On paper, even Mills and Boon would struggle to turn that scenario into a winner. And yet Liv kind of felt the same as he did but she wasn't brave, or perhaps mad, enough to admit it.

'You don't sound particularly convinced,' Benedict said.

Liv lifted their hands from his lap and turned them over so that she could look at his left hand. It didn't look like the manicured hand of a business man. With his broad palm, big fingers and scattering of callouses and scars, they belonged to someone who loved being outside. And could look after himself and her, if he had to. Her smaller, more delicate hand looked well protected in his.

'I think a wedding band would look good there. In fact, I think it would look hot. Just like the rest of you.' She lifted his hand and kissed his wedding ring finger. 'Is that convinced enough for you?'

'Yep, it definitely is.'

They fell into a comfortable since for a while. Liv snuggled against Benedict's shoulder and watched the craziness going on outside the car. There was lots of the usual mad driving and parking going on around them as they smoothly wound their way out of Naples. People were happily cruising through red lights and pedestrians were nipping across lanes of speeding traffic. It was a typical early evening in town and Liv found it reassuring that the urban madness would carry on whatever traumas were happening in her life.

'Where are you staying?' she asked.

'I thought I'd stay further down the coast where it's a bit less...busy,' he said diplomatically.

'You can say it's nuts, you know. It's totally nuts here.'

'Everyone's totally fucking nuts here and it's great.' 'But?'

'But I want you all to myself without any more drama.'

'I know, it's all a bit much. So where are you staying?' 'You'll see.'
Chapter Nineteen

The Monastero Santa Margherita perched on a rocky clifftop somewhere between the pretty villages of Positano and Amalfi. The winding road that led there, with its sharp hairpin bends, made Liv slightly dizzy but the view from the car window told her that it would all be worth it once they got to the top. The road steadily climbed the huge craggy hill over the bay of Salerno, skirting past steep terraced gardens with neat vegetable patches and tidy rows of lemon trees. Liv wondered how the hell people managed to get up to their allotments on such a sheer cliff face let alone drag up spades and bags of compost. Saint Margherita, Liv thought, must have been closely related to a mountain goat.

The saintly Margherita also had an eye for spectacular views because you could see across the whole bay from outside her old monastery. Aside from the boats zipping across water so turquoise that it almost looked fake, you could see white villas dotted around between the tall cypress trees and bright pink bougainvillea bushes. It was picture perfect, especially as the sun was starting to go down and the few clouds in the sky were illuminated from underneath by golden light.

'I've been coming to Italy my whole life and I've never been here before. How is that possible?' Liv wondered out loud as she leaned on the railings in the hotel carpark. 'This place is amazing.'

'Come and check out the view from our room,' said Benedict.

'Our room?'

'I thought you might like to stay over.'

'You'll definitely have to marry me now! Southern Italians don't do casual sleepovers with boyfriends. They don't even do them with fiancés. You're officially not allowed to sleep in the same bed in the same room until you've got all the paper work and a set of embroidered bidet towels to prove it.'

'Bidet towels?' Benedict looked confused.

'They're an essential item for any self-respecting Neapolitan woman. If you're a girl, your aunts start giving your mum things like towels, dishcloths and bed jackets as soon as you're born. Then your mum gives you the whole lot when you get married. It's what they call a dowry. All my school friends came home from their summer holidays with a t-shirt saying 'I heart Florida'. I always came home with bidet towels.'

'That would make going to Disneyland a bit tricky. Can you even get Mickey Mouse bidet towels?'

They looked out at the view some more.

'Why bidet towels? Did everyone assume that you'd have personal hygiene issues?' asked Benedict. 'Is there something I should know?'

'I hope to God it's because bidet towels are small enough to fit into a suitcase. Either that or I've got some terrible genetic yeast problem that hasn't kicked in yet.'

'Now, that's something to look forward to.' He took her hand. 'Shall we go in?'

Their room, or suite as it happened, was predictably chic. The old cells had kept their high vaulted ceilings but lost any whiff of sack cloth and ashes. The white washed rooms had pale marble floors, lots of plump velvet sofas and antique rugs on the walls. But outside, on their own private terrace, was the most incredible feature by far.

'I don't know about you but I'm getting straight in,' said Benedict, pulling off his shoes and then unbuttoning his shirt. He dropped his clothes onto a sun lounger and then jumped straight into the infinity pool. Liv watched him make his way under the water to the other side, where he popped up. He rested his elbows on the edge of the pool and looked out over the bay.

'You've got to come and see this,' he called over his shoulder.

Liv kicked off her sandals and clothes and slid into the water. 'This is so amazing,' she murmured, watching the hills darken and the sky bleed from blue through to orange where it met the sea. Further down the coast, the seaside bars and restaurants were throwing beams of coloured lights into the inky black sea. 'You always pick the best places.'

'That's wherever you are.'

'And you always say the best things, you old smoothie.' 'And I always mean them'.

Benedict came and stood behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her wet shoulder. She leaned against him and looked out at the view.

'Let's float,' he said, lying back in the water and taking her with him. They floated in silence, looking up at the night sky. Liv's head rested back on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

'I like being here,' she murmured, swishing her hands slowly through the cool water.

'It's a beautiful part of Italy.'

'No, I mean here, lying with you. It's pretty much perfect. I didn't imagine that I'd feel like this when I woke up this morning.'

'No, me neither. I mean, I knew I was coming to see you today but I didn't know how it would pan out. I didn't expect it to go too well, to be honest.'

'Plus, you had to contend with my family. That's a big ask for anyone.' 'I like them.'

'What, even Nonna?'

'Well, I wouldn't go that far. It was nice to be in a family, though, with lots of people around.'

'I think my parents would adopt you straight away. Nonna definitely would. She was laying into us when you turned up.'

'About what?'

She sighed. 'About Bruno being feckless and probably gay and Lucia for letting her daughter get really fat.'

'What did she say about you?'

'That the other two are useless so she wants to help me out with my project and give me some money.'

'Christ, I bet that went down well with your brother and sister.'

'They both stormed off. It's pretty much standard Nonna crap, to be honest. She's always moaning about how useless someone is. It's usually my uncle's wife or my mum but it was Bruno and Lucia for a change.'

'Maybe I'm not missing out on family life after all.'

'You're certainly not missing out on my family life anyway.'

There was a pause.

'So, are you going to take the money?'

'God, no. It would be a total slap in the face for Lucia and Bruno. Nonna said I was the only one in the family to make her proud so if I took the money it'd look like I was agreeing with her.'

'She's a lovely little old lady, your nonna.'

'Yep, she's a regular sweetheart. Shall we get out soon? I'm starving.'

'Yeah, in a second. There's something I want to ask you first. And will you promise to listen to me all the way through before you say 'no'?'

'I can't guarantee it but I'll try.'

Benedict kissed her head. 'You know the building where my flat is?'

Liv nodded.

'Well, we always have a concierge and a handyman. They live in the building.'

'Right.' Liv wasn't sure where this was going.

'It's part of their job to live on site and they get free accommodation. There are two flats on the ground floor for them.'

'Right.'

'The concierge and the handyman are actually a couple so they're only using one of the flats. The other one is empty. It can't be rented out to anyone else so I thought maybe you could live there, if you wanted.'

'How do you know that? And, anyway, maybe the person who owns the building has other plans.'

'No, he doesn't.'

'When you say 'he', who do you mean?'

There was an awkward silence while Benedict waited for the penny to drop. It fell with a predictably large clang.

'Let me guess. You own the building?'

'Yeah. And technically you wouldn't be taking any money from me as the flat is just going to stay empty until the concierge and his husband leave and someone new moves in.'

There was more silence.

'Will you at least think about it?'

Liv couldn't deny the fact that it was tempting. Her proud, moral part wanted to say 'no' but the rest of her was yelling 'yes'. The flat would mean that she didn't have to ditch the project and even better, she wouldn't have to take any money from Nonna. Being proud and moral was sometimes a complete pain in the arse.

'I'll definitely think about it. Thank you.' Liv spun around in the water to face him. She kissed him. His lips were cool and soft. They parted and his warm tongue found hers. It gently swirled round and round hers, delicately stroking the inside of her lips. The gentle swirling and probing quickly gave way to more intense, frenzied kissing. Benedict pushed himself to standing, picked Liv up and walked over to the edge of the pool. She found herself with her back to the pool wall with Benedict pressed against her. She wrapped her arms around him and drew him in even closer. When she looked up at him, it struck her that he was so good looking that he was almost otherworldly. Each ridge of his sculpted face and chest were picked out perfectly by the turquoise light from the pool and his wet hair fell into perfect beachy tousles.

'You have absolutely no idea how gorgeous you are,' she said stroking his face. 'How did I get so lucky?'

'You're about to get a whole lot luckier if you keep doing that.'

As she kissed him again, Liv felt something very hard against her stomach. His cock had sprung to life. She ground herself against it and he moaned into her mouth. She was itching to touch it so she reached down and ran the tips of her fingers up the silky skin from the base to the tip. Then, with her thumb and index finger forming a firm circle round the tip of his cock, she gently pulled his foreskin down a tiny bit and then up again. She kept going, easing the skin down lower over the swollen tip of his cock with each slow stroke. His cock quickly swelled and lengthened.

'Stop, you'll make me come,' he whispered. 'I want to come inside you.'

He slid his hands under her knees and then pulled her legs up and round his waist. With the tip of his cock positioned between her legs, he pushed slowly and steadily until it slid through her lips and inside her. It was Liv's turn to gasp and moan. She was always surprised by how thick and long his cock was. At first, she was worried that it might hurt her but then, when she came, she found that her orgasm was more intense for having something so hard and big to grip. The size of his cock made each ripple of her orgasm more powerful.

Now, though, she was enjoying the intense feeling of fullness. His cock filled her right up. It blotted everything else out of her mind – the noise from the other guests drifting up from the terrace below, the cold wall against her back. It was all obliterated by Benedict's slow and steady thrusting. He eased himself in and out of her, pulling out till only the very tip of his cock was resting against her swollen lips and then smoothly pushing it back in all the way. They both watched the slow in and out, their heads bent over and touching foreheads.

'God, that's so fucking hot,' Benedict whispered.

Liv let her head fall back against the edge of the pool and moaned. Each stroke made her gasp. She felt completely possessed by him.

'Look at me,' he urged.

She looked up at him and found him staring intensely at her.

'I want to see your face when I'm inside you.'

His strokes became a little faster and a little harder. Each stroke made her eyes widen as his cock rubbed against the perfect spot inside her. She gasped and tightened her grasp on his shoulders.

'I love you,' he said looking deep into her eyes. 'Please don't leave me again.' She saw tears form in his eyes and then roll down his cheeks.

She stroked his face. 'Don't cry, baby. I'm not going anywhere. I always want to be right here with you inside me.'

Suddenly, he looped his hands under her buttocks and turned towards the terrace. He carried her through the water and then up the pool steps and into their room.

'Where are we going?' she asked, feeling the warm night air on her bare skin.

'I don't want our make-up sex to be like something out of a porn film. I want to be in bed with you.'

He carried her through to their bedroom and gently lowered her onto the bed. He crawled up the bed to join her and then lay down on top of her. He brushed her wet hair off of her face.

'This should be special. It means everything to me. You mean everything to me.'

'So do you.' She meant it. 'Now fuck me.'

He laughed. 'You're such a romantic!'

'I know,' she smiled. 'Now fuck me.'

The doors to the terrace were open and Liv could hear the chinking of plates and the odd laugh from the restaurant below.

'What time is it?' she asked.

'It's 10.30,' came the muffled voice behind her.

Liv sat up. 'Shit, I need to call my parents otherwise they'll worry and wait up.'

'Call them then.'

'But then I'll have to say that I'm staying here and that's a conversation I don't want to have.'

'Where's your phone?'

Liv pointed to her bag on the chair.

Benedict peeled himself away from her and went to find the phone. He held it up to show Liv. 'Can I?'

She nodded, wondering what he was going to say.

She never knew what to say in these situations and was happy that, for once, someone else was going to handle it for her.

'Mr Russo? It's Benedict Cassel. Yes, it was a pleasure to meet you too. I'm ringing because I've taken Liv out for dinner just near Amalfi. Yes, it's very beautiful here. It's getting late now and I don't want to send her home in my car at this time of night. It's a long drive in the dark and I'm sure you'll agree that it's safer if I organise a room for her to stay at my hotel. I realise this is unorthodox but I can assure you that I am very serious about your daughter and I wouldn't do anything to upset or disrespect you or your wife.'

Liv watched him pacing the bedroom floor stark bollock naked. He certainly knew how to get her parents onside. Anyone who'd watched The Godfather or The Sopranos knew that Southern Italians would turn a blind eye to stealing, blowing things up and bumping people off as long as you said you respected them.

Seconds later Benedict handed her the phone.

'That was quick,' she said. 'How did you manage that?'

'I just told him what he wanted to hear. That you were safer staying her and I wouldn't lay a finger on you.'

Liv laughed. 'Technically that's accurate – you've had your fingers in me, not on me – but I'm hardly the Virgin Mary.'

'I know that, you know that and he knows that but we're all playing along. Now, let's actually have that dinner.'

They ate outside on their terrace in their underwear. It was too hot for anything else. They sat side by side on the cool tiled bench, eating and looking out over the now inky dark bay. When they'd finished the last of the peach and champagne sorbet, Liv rested her head against Benedict's shoulder and sighed.

'Is that a good sigh or a bad sigh?' he asked.

'It's a 'this couldn't be any more perfect' sigh.' She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed it.

'Will you come to Paris with me next week? I've got a visit set up with Lola and I want you to meet her.'

Liv didn't know what to say. This was huge. You didn't casually introduce someone to a child, especially not one whose life was very unstable and confusing. It was the number one rule of dating when there were kids involved. 'Are you sure?' she asked.

'Of course. She'll love you.'

'But,' Liv struggled for the right way to say it, 'won't that be difficult for her? You know, meeting me and then who knows what? She's got enough new people coming in and out of her life.'

'I'm asking you because you're not going to be coming in and out of my life. You're very much in it and I'm hoping that you'll stay that way.'

'But you've only known me for such a short time.'

'Don't you want to come?'

Liv could feel the coldness creeping into his voice. He sounded like a stroppy teenager, just like a few nights before when she'd ended up running away. Just like a stroppy teenager. Deciding that she'd have to be the grown up here, she squeezed his hand. 'I'd love to come. I'm just worried about upsetting her. She's only little and she's gone through a lot already.' She shuffled across and onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. 'You know, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever asked me.' She kissed his nose. 'I'm honoured that you want me to come.'

The tight expression on his face softened and he smiled. 'I want you to come everywhere with me.' He rubbed his nose against hers. 'Especially in bed. Let's go.'
Chapter Twenty

Liv was woken up the next morning by a loud buzzing noise. It took her a while to work out what the noise was and where it was coming from. She skimmed her hands over the bed sheet and under her pillow. When that turned up nothing, she moved to the edge of the bed and looked underneath. Her iPhone was there, vibrating away by itself. Two missed calls from India and then a text. The letter offering Liv her research grant had arrived in the post and she needed to sign it and send it back asap. A second text arrived just as Liv was reading the first. Rufus had decided to take up a residency at an art school in America for the summer so the coast was clear for Liv to swing by the flat. That's if she could still walk, India joked.

As it turned out, Liv did feel a bit stiff when she got up. With Benedict she was using muscles that hadn't seen any action for a very long time. Her thighs were sore from the over-enthusiastic ride she'd given Benedict last night. Her hamstrings ached in a way that she hadn't felt since she'd had her one and only session with a personal trainer. Then, she'd not been able to walk the next day and had decided that, if exercise hurt so bloody much, then it couldn't be good for you. Benedict's ham strings, and all of his other major muscles, looked like they got plenty of exercise. His back, which she saw as she opened the bedroom door, had a beautiful symmetry to it. You could see each curved band of muscle clearly underneath his tanned olive skin. As he typed on his laptop at his makeshift office on the dining table, Liv could see the taut fibres in his shoulders flexing. The muscles forming the V down the middle of his back moved subtly too. Had he been bulky, body builder, the result would have been tacky – Liv had never fancied anyone whose neck was wider than their head - but as it was, he looked more like Michaelangelo's David than The Rock.

She padded up behind him and slid her hands over his warm shoulders. 'Morning, you gorgeous man,' she said, kissing the top of his head.

'Morning, you gorgeous woman.'

'What's going on?' She leaned down to look at the screen and see what he was working on.

'Nothing exciting. Just work. You?'

'I need to get back to Bristol today to sign all the paperwork for my project. I'm not sure when you're planning to go, but can I come back with you?'

'Today's good. I'll finish up here and then call Liz to set it up.'

When they got back to Bristol, they drove straight to Kate and Tim's house to pick up the letter.

'Aren't you coming in?' Liv asked, peering into the backseat when Benedict didn't follow her out of the car.

'I thought you might want a bit of time with India by yourself.'

She reached forward and took his hand. 'Come on, they'll all be dying to see you. You know how much Kate and Tim love you. And anyway, I'll just end up answering loads of questions about you. You might as well answer them yourself.' She was right - Tim was definitely thrilled to see him.

'Ah, Liv, Benedict, come in, come in,' he said when he opened the front door. Daphne appeared at his ankles. 'I see that your mission was successful then, Benedict.'

Liv felt her cheeks go bright red with embarrassment. Everyone obviously knew that they'd had a big fight and she'd run off to Italy. Her reputation as the mature, sensible young person in this house was in tatters. She bent down to stroke Daphne to avoid looking at Tim.

'Yes, we're fine,' Benedict murmured.

'Right, well, come on in then. No point lurking on the doorstep when there are two impatient women clamouring for each and every sordid detail of your reconciliation.' He ushered them inside and closed the front door behind them. 'We're out in the garden having a drink.'

Tim lead them through the house, grabbing two more glasses on their way through the kitchen. Unmistakeable voices rang out across the garden.

'I don't see why you're so against at least trying lesbianism or even bisexuality, India. It's perfectly natural to explore your sexuality. You don't want to suppress your desires only to find yourself 50, married with children and desperate to shag the au pair.'

'Oh, for God's sake, Mum. I don't fancy women.' Liv saw the glowing tip of India's roll-up burn brighter for a few seconds as she took a longer than usual, stress-induced drag.

'You're not still banging on about lesbians, are you?' Tim asked, as they crossed the lawn. 'If she's not interested, Kate, then she's not interested.'

'But it's so bourgeois!' Kate exclaimed. Being bourgeois was the worst insult Kate could level at you. Worse than being called a cunt, which, strangely, didn't bother them at all.

'Darling, you're going to have to accept that, despite your best efforts, our children are straight. Standard issue heteronormative. It may seem boring and uninspired to you but there you go.' He slid back into his seat at the table and motioned for Benedict and Liv to sit down too.

'Jesus, most parents are desperate for grandchildren but you won't be happy unless you can tell people I've changed gender. You are very weird.' India pointedly turned to Liv and Benedict. 'Quick, tell me something from the straight world. Make me feel normal.'

'Er,' Benedict faltered, looking at Liv for help. 'We're still straight?' It was more of a question than a statement. He wasn't sure exactly what India wanted.

'And you're still together?' India asked.

'Yes,' Benedict answered firmly. 'We are.'

'Thank fuck for that,' said India, as she sagged back into her seat and picked up her wine glass.

'Indeed,' Kate beamed. 'Let's drink to that.' Tim handed round more glasses.

'To Liv and Benedict,' Kate said, raising her glass to them. She turned to India. 'And to my wonderfully creative and yet sexually unimaginative daughter.'

India slyly gave her mother the finger with one hand as she took a huge swig from her glass with the other. Liv and Benedict sniggered while Kate pretended not to notice. Under the table, Daphne settled down and decided to use Liv's feet as a pillow. They chatted happily for a while until Daphne started barking frantically. She got up and pegged it, as much as a long dog with ridiculously short legs can, to the garden steps.

'Must be someone at the door,' said Tim, getting out of his seat. 'Can't think who it'd be at this time of night.'

He ambled inside and a few minutes later he reappeared with two more people following him back down the steps. It was dark now so Liv couldn't see who they were but their voices filled her with panic.

'And so I said to Miles that we should drop in and see Ma and Pa on the way.'

Charlotte's shrill voice carried across the garden. 'Miles, where are you? Give me your hand, for Heaven's sake. My heels are sinking into this bloody grass.' 'Shit,' said India, in a low voice. 'This should be awkward.' 'Should we go?' Liv asked, rushing to get out of her chair.

'Why, who is it?' Benedict wanted to know.

'Everyone will stay exactly where they are,' Kate said smoothly. Her tone was calm but Liv and India both knew that Kate meant business. No one was going anywhere. 'Please, for once, let us act with decorum. I will not let this family descend into chaos. Again.'

'It's a bit late for that,' India huffed.

Kate got up to greet the new arrivals. 'Charlotte, Miles, what a lovely surprise.' She kissed them both.

Liv looked at Benedict. Even in the dark she could see that he'd gone pale. Charlotte was probably the last person he wanted to see and frankly, Liv wasn't exactly thrilled to see her either.

Charlotte leaned over the table to kiss her sister and then stopped short when she saw Liv.

'I thought you'd left,' she said.

'Charlotte!' Kate cut in.

'And we're off,' India said under her breath.

'Hi Liv, nice to see you.' Miles leaned over to kiss her but was stopped in his tracks by Charlotte, who grabbed him by the arm and dragged him over to a free chair.

'Let's sit down shall we?'

They sat down opposite Liv and Benedict, who was doing his best to shrink down into his seat. He dipped his head so that his hair covered as much of his face as possible.

'And who's this?' Charlotte asked, pointing at him.

'That,' declared Tim jovially, 'is Benedict. You remember Benedict. A couple of years above Rufus at school.'

It was Charlotte's turn to go pale. 'What's he doing here?' she asked her parents.

'Benedict is here with Liv,' Kate said.

Charlotte looked across at Liv and then back at her parents. 'When you say 'with', what do you mean?'

'Charlotte, Benedict and Liv are sitting right in front of you,' Kate answered patiently, as if she were talking to a child. 'Don't talk as if they're not here. It's terribly rude, darling.'

Tim pushed two glasses of wine across the table to Charlotte and Miles. Sensing that his fiancée was on the war path, Miles gratefully picked up the glass and took a massive swig. 'Darling, let's tell them why we're here. We're on our way to a wedding so we thought we'd drop in.'

'How lovely,' said Kate, happy to steer the conversation away from Benedict and Liv. 'Who's getting married?'

'My cousin Camilla is marrying Freddy, an old pal of mine from my Eton days. They met at our engagement party, actually.'

'So you're the matchmaker?' Kate asked.

'Well, I wouldn't quite go that far but I suppose I did bring them together. You know, same time, same place and then Cupid did his thing.'

'They've got married quite quickly then,' said Kate. 'How long have you been engaged now?'

'Three years,' said Miles. 'Too bloody long if you ask me but Charlotte wants to wait until she's a partner in the firm.'

'And when will that be, Charlotte?' Kate looked at her daughter expectantly.

There was a pause while Charlotte realised that Kate had asked a question and everyone, except Benedict, was looking at her. 'What?' she snapped.

'Don't you mean 'pardon'? I asked when you are going to be made a partner.'

Charlotte's mind wasn't on work. It was fixed precisely on the man sitting opposite her. 'Probably this year,' she said.

'So we can expect a wedding next year then?' Kate was pushing her luck. When Charlotte was in a bad mood (which was most of the time), it was best to avoid talking about weddings.

'Darling,' Tim broke in quickly, 'let's not pressure them. Let's just enjoy their company.'

'Yes, of course,' said Kate. 'Are you planning to stay here tonight?'

'No, at the hotel where the wedding's taking place,' Charlotte answered. Despite everyone's best efforts, she wasn't going to be swerved from her line of questioning. 'Why are you here?' She leaned forward and pointed at Benedict.

Liv was amazed that Charlotte could be so confrontational but then she worked in the City. She was a professional ball breaker and didn't suffer from embarrassment like normal people. Tim tipped back in his chair and looked up into the sky. He knew what was coming and he was doing his best to pretend that he couldn't hear or see what was going on. He started to hum something. Liv could just about make out the theme to The Archers.

Benedict looked up and stared straight back at Charlotte. 'Liv's my girlfriend.'

Charlotte wrinkled her nose. 'Girlfriend?' She couldn't have packed more disgust into one word. Granny Campbell would have been proud.

'Yes, you know, like your boyfriend sitting right next to you,' India chipped in. 'It's not rocket science, Charlotte. Like a friend but you hold hands and kiss. I thought you knew about the birds and the bees.'

'I know what a girlfriend is,' snapped Charlotte. 'I just don't know why Benedict would be with her.'

'Charlotte!' Kate snapped back.

Benedict picked up his glass and slowly took a sip. 'Why do you need to know that?'

Charlotte was surprised by the question. She wasn't used to anyone giving as good as they got in this house. Usually her parents tried to calm everything down before things got out of hand.

Miles liked a quiet life too so he got out of his chair. 'We've got a long day tomorrow, darling, I think we should probably go now.' He took his car keys out of his pocket and jangled them.

Charlotte took no notice of him so he eventually sat down again. Everyone, apart from Charlotte, was tense. Liv gulped down some more wine and exchanged worried glances with India, who shrugged her shoulders. Tim was now whistling the music from Test Match Special.

'You do know that I went out with Benedict,' Charlotte began, a sly smile spreading over her face.

'I think that 'went out' is misleading,' Benedict cut in. 'We went to the same parties and hung around together for a few weeks one summer.'

'We did more than that,' Charlotte shot back. She raised an eyebrow at Benedict suggestively.

'That was a very long time ago now so why don't we all say goodnight and let you get on your way?' Kate got up and started to collect the glasses, even if they were still half full. 'Let's go, everyone.' She hustled Tim, India and Miles out of their seats. 'Charlotte? It's been a fleeting visit. Thank you for coming. And you too Miles.' Kate hugged him.

'Come on Lottie,' Miles called. 'It's getting late. We've got to be up early tomorrow.'

'I'm not ready yet and stop calling me Lottie. I'm not five years old.'

'Right o, darling.'

'Well, I'm ready,' said Benedict springing out of his chair. He held his hand out to Liv and she jumped up too.

'Yes, let's go.' They turned and started to walk away quickly.

'I sent you a letter,' Charlotte said loudly to their departing backs. 'You never answered so I don't know if you ever got it.'

'Let's just ignore her and get out of here,' Benedict whispered to Liv.

'I gave him a sexually transmitted disease, you know, Liv,' Charlotte called after them in a smug voice. 'I bet you didn't know that.'

Liv stopped and turned around. As did Miles, Kate, Tim and India.

'Don't,' Benedict hissed. 'Don't sink to her level.'

Fuelled by Tim's generous glass of wine, Liv slowly walked back towards Charlotte.

'I did know, actually, Charlotte.'

'Well, I didn't,' spluttered Tim behind her.

'Shut up, darling,' Kate said.

'How lovely,' Charlotte shot back. 'You've shared all your secrets already. Sweet.' She paused. 'Well, I bet you didn't know that he got me pregnant too.'

Liv turned to look at Benedict in surprise. 'Did you?'

Benedict looked just as surprised. 'No! I swear I didn't. She's lying.'

'You would say that,' Charlotte said. 'You don't want anyone to know about how terribly you treated me. Wouldn't quite fit with your golden boy image, would it now? You wouldn't have my parents and her fawning all over you.'

Benedict walked back towards Charlotte. 'What are you talking about?' he spat out furiously. 'You sent me a letter saying I should get checked out for chlamydia but you didn't mention anything about a baby. I would have come straight back if you had.' He paused and looked at Charlotte's smug face for clues. Was she bullshitting? 'Was there a baby?' he asked quietly.

'I got rid of it just like you got rid of me,' Charlotte answered. 'I was in love with you and you just dumped me. No explanation, nothing. Doesn't feel great, does it?'

'You wouldn't do that,' Benedict said. 'You wouldn't get rid of it to spite me.'

'I'm afraid she did, Benedict,' said Kate, walking over to him.

'Did she? It's news to me,' said a bewildered Tim.

'Shush, darling, I'll explain later,' Kate said over her shoulder. She turned and put her hand on Benedict's arm. 'She was only 17 and I said we'd support her whatever she decided but she was adamant that she didn't want to keep it. She was very clear about that. I don't know if it was the right decision but it's what she wanted.'

'But I didn't know,' said Benedict. 'If I'd known, I'd have wanted to keep it.'

'I wanted Charlotte to tell you but she was adamant about that too. She didn't want you to know. I did try to get hold of you. I rang your father but he didn't know where you were. It was the pre-internet, mobile phone days. It wasn't so easy to track someone down.'

'Mum!' shrieked Charlotte, scraping her chair back and standing up. 'Why did you try to track him down? I specifically asked you not to.'

'Because it was his right to know. I may be very relaxed about sex but I have my principles when it comes to this particular issue. Everyone has a right to know and be involved if they want to be.' Kate turned to Benedict. 'I want you to know that this secret has weighed heavily on my heart. I desperately wanted to let you know but you were abroad somewhere.'

'It's ok,' Benedict said quietly. 'It's not your fault. I didn't really want to be found.'

There was a pause as everyone digested the information. Then Tim, not someone to usually get involved in family fights, came to stand beside Kate. He put his arm around her shoulders. 'I can see that this is very upsetting for you, Benedict, and I'm thoroughly ashamed that my daughter seems to be taking so much pleasure in exacting retribution all these years later.' He eyed Charlotte disdainfully. 'I think you should leave now. You've not only ruined our evening but as far as I can tell, you broke your mother's heart back then and you've broken Benedict's heart right now. We've tolerated all your poor behaviour to Liv over the years and she's never been anything but pleasant and polite to you. Your intention tonight was clearly driven by naked spite and envy, neither of which your mother and I will accept in this house. So, I suggest you leave with Miles now.'

Kate sniffed and hunted for a tissue in her pocket.

'It's typical that you side with them,' Charlotte said. 'Never mind that he broke my heart or that she's ruined this family. First Rufus and now me.'

'I think you've done that for yourself,' Tim replied. 'And now this conversation is over. You are welcome to talk to us again when you have something constructive or contrite to say. Miles?'

'Right, yes, come on Charlotte.' Miles tried to take Charlotte's arm to lead her away but she angrily pulled it away and marched past everyone with her head held high. Her effort to stalk out was undermined by her spike heels sinking into the grass.

'For fuck's sake,' she muttered, grabbing her ankles and trying to pull her feet free of the ground. In the end, she abandoned the shoes and walked up the steps holding out the muddied Louboutins out in front of her like a festering nappy.

At the top of the stairs Miles turned and gave everyone a little wave. Then they heard the front door bang.

'Fuck, I need a cigarette,' said India sitting down on the steps and getting out her pouch of tobacco.

'And I think we could all do with something stronger than wine,' Tim said. 'You sit yourselves down and I'll fetch something.'

They regrouped round the table. This time there was no friendly banter. Liv sat close to Benedict and put her arm around his back. He was sitting forward, with his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands.

'I'm not sure what to say other than I'm so terribly sorry, Benedict,' said Kate. 'It must have come as an awful shock. Especially, after all these years, when you're perhaps thinking about having children of your own. It's much more powerful then.'

Liv winced. It was definitely much worse to know that someone had got rid of your baby when that someone had given you a disease that meant you couldn't have any children.

'Perhaps, when you've had time to digest it, you'll be able to make peace with it as something that happened a long time ago,' Kate said, trying to be helpful.

Tim arrived with bottles and glasses. 'I couldn't decide what would be better so I brought a selection of the hard stuff.'

'But it's something that's still happening now,' Benedict said quietly without lifting his head.

'Yes, I can appreciate that it feels that way now because it's fresh but hopefully later it will fade into the past,' Kate continued.

Liv tried to signal to Kate to stop talking. She tried shaking her head and drawing her hand across her neck in a cut-throat motion. Kate batted her attempts away with a dismissive hand.

'I know what you're trying to do Liv but it's best to talk about things in the long run so that you can relegate them to the past and get over them.'

'Err, Kate,' Liv cut in, trying to think of a way to close down this conversation.

'It's alright,' said Benedict sitting up straight. 'They might as well know everything since we're airing all our dirty laundry this evening.'

Kate and Tim, who was busy pouring himself a hefty whisky, looked at him in surprise.

'Shit, this just gets worse and worse,' said India, blowing smoke up into the air. 'Next we'll discover that Liv is actually Benedict's sister.'

Liv shot her a look.

'Actually, this whole thing with Charlotte is a bigger deal for me than you think,' said Benedict. 'I did get her letter about the STD, only it was about six months after she sent it because I moved around a lot. I didn't have any obvious symptoms so I didn't rush to get it checked out and treated. I wish I had because by the time I did go to see a doctor, my fertility was shot to pieces. I got a second opinion and the result was the same. And it's been the same every time I've been to see anyone medical ever since. Because I try out a new doctor every so often, thinking that the results might be wrong or that medical advances might have come up with a solution. But it's pointless. I can't have children. And now I know that I could have had one, if Charlotte had told me about it.'

'Fuck,' said India. 'That's fucking terrible.'

'Yeah, it really is,' Benedict said sadly. 'Fucking terrible.'

They sat in silence while everyone absorbed this latest bit of news and glugged down the whisky. It wasn't her favourite drink by a long shot but Liv didn't care what she was drinking as long as it was very alcoholic. She downed the horrible stuff in one. She saw India do the same and wince as it went down. Sensing everyone's need for more, Tim refilled their glasses. There was more silent drinking, broken only by the sound of happy, drunken people walking down their street. Their chatter and laughter faded in and out as they passed the house and then disappeared round the corner.

Finally Kate broke the silence.

'I'm not trying to diminish what's happened tonight but it's worth pointing out that genetics aren't everything. You can be someone's parent without them sharing your DNA.'

Liv wanted to agree but she knew that finding the positives in a shit situation didn't make you feel any better. She'd never understood people who got themselves out of a depressive slump by thinking about starving children in Africa. It just made her sadder to think about all the cruelty and unfairness in the world. And guilty that her problems were so first world. But, in this conversation, she felt she had something important to add, even if it was more about Kate and Tim than Benedict.

'She's right, you know,' she said. 'I feel much closer to Kate and Tim than I do to my parents. I mean, I love my parents and they brought me up but I can talk to Kate and Tim in a way that I can't with my parents. They understand me much better and they help me think through situations in a calm, rational way that my parents could never manage. It's all shouting and guilt trips when I go to Italy but Kate and Tim treat me like an adult. And they stick with me even when it'd be easier to put their own kids first.'

Benedict stopped swilling the whisky round and round his glass and looked up at her.

Kate reached across the table, clasped her hand firmly round Liv's. For once, Kate was so choked up that she struggling to speak. Tim came to her rescue.

'We're very fond of you too,' he said, his voice catching in his throat.

'Seriously, Benedict, they'd swap me for Liv in a second!' said India, breaking the emotional tension. 'I wouldn't worry about blood being thicker than water. In this family, water definitely wins. Or maybe wine and whisky.'

'Now, India,' said Kate, recovering her composure, 'you know that's not entirely true. At this precise point in time I do wonder how on earth your father and I created Charlotte but I wouldn't want to exchange her.'

'Even for Ryan Gosling?' India asked.

'Let's just say that my feelings for Ryan Gosling are not strictly maternal and leave it at that.'

Out of the corner of her eye Liv saw a small smile break on Benedict's face.

'And for the record, it's not that difficult to work out why Charlotte's such a bitch,' said India. 'It's got nothing to do with how you've brought her up. She's from a long line of massive ball breakers. Look at Granny and Grandma. They're both just like Charlotte. They can make blokes' balls shrink back up inside at fifty paces. The genes skipped a generation with you two but Charlotte got the double whammy.' She turned to Benedict. 'So, you see, genetics can actually be a complete bastard. You could easily end up with all of your family's worst personality traits.'

'How beautifully put,' said Kate with a half-smile.

'Well, it's true. You and Dad are the nicest people in your families. The rest - Aunt Flora, Aunt Miranda, Aunt Eliza and even Uncle Hugo – are just vicious bloodsuckers.'

'She's right, you know,' mused Tim. 'My brother and sister are bloody awful. When I met Kate, I was relieved to find someone else with equally horrendous siblings. Her sisters make Kim Jong Un look reasonable. And more attractive.' 'Tim!' Kate said sharply.

'Oh, come on, Mum,' said India. 'Everyone here except Benedict has met them and we know what they're like. Consider yourself lucky, Benedict. They can suck all the oxygen out of a room.' She grabbed her neck with both hands and pretended to choke. 'I can't breathe. There's too much evil.' Everyone laughed.

'Right, I think that's enough character assassination for one night,' Kate said. 'Maybe we should let these two go home. You must be exhausted after tonight's dramas.'

Benedict nodded.

'However, you must come back anytime you like. If you need to talk, our door is open.'

'As is Dad's drinks cabinets,' India chipped in. 'And the more emotional you get, the harder the booze gets. There's a sliding scale. A bit of girl crying and moaning because your best friend has been mean and you get whisky. Proper sobbing and heartbreak because you've been dumped and you get absinthe. And if it's an absolute fucking disaster, you get the big guns – the Balkan vodka.'

'Yes,' said Tim rather proudly. 'Hand crafted, triple distilled grain vodka. 88% proof and pure as a virgin's gusset.'

'And on that bombshell, I think we should all go to bed,' said Kate, getting up and collecting some glasses.

Everyone else drained their drinks and got up too. They followed Kate across the lawn.

Benedict was holding Liv's hand very tightly.

'What are you up to this weekend?' India asked as they trooped through the house to the front door.

'I'm checking out my new flat, apparently,' Liv answered. 'There's an empty staff one in Benedict's building that's not being used so I can have it instead.'

'Oh,' said India, crestfallen. She was secretly hoping that, now that Rufus was out of the picture for a while, Liv might be able to come back and live with her.

'Why don't you come and check it out with me?' Liv asked. 'Maybe you can help me find the right wall to put your painting on.' India had painted a picture of Daphne for Liv's birthday last year. It was Liv's prize possession.

'Yeah, ok. Let's text in the morning and sort out a time.' India hugged Liv and then Benedict. 'I'm no expert on anything but I think you'll be alright,' she said to him. 'You've got her now.'

'She's right, young man,' Tim said, crushing Benedict in a hug. 'You will be fine. Liv will make sure of that.'

Kate took her turn. She held him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye.

'Remember we're here if you need us. You are morally obliged to take us up on that as our daughter caused the chaos in the first instance. Understand?'

Benedict nodded.
Chapter Twenty-One

Liv was regretting the couple of whiskies she'd knocked back. It made her sleepy and clumsy.

'Are you ok?' Benedict asked as he watched her walk over to the lift like a toddler struggling in too big shoes

'Mmm? It's just the whisky. I'll be alright when it wears off a bit.'

'Let's go to bed, then. I'm shattered.'

Once in the flat, they went straight to Benedict's bedroom. Without a word, they took off their clothes and shoes and went to brush their teeth. They stood side by side at the sink and Liv studied Benedict in the big mirror in front of them. He looked as gorgeous as ever, especially after a quick blast of Italian sunshine, but also a little deflated and careworn. She wrapped her free arm round his waist and leant her head against his shoulder. He stopped brushing and smiled faintly at her in the mirror. In that second she saw what he must have looked like as a little boy – lost, sad and desperately trying to keep it all in.

'Bed,' she said, taking his hand and leading him back into the bedroom.

They climbed into bed and for once, they swapped roles. Liv lay on her back and Benedict curled up into her side, with his head on her chest. She wrapped her arm around his back and kissed his head. It wasn't long before she felt him go slack against her. His breathing slowed and Liv felt the steady rise and fall of his chest on hers. It was ironic that she was the one finding it hard to sleep tonight. Usually Benedict was the insomniac. She couldn't even toss and turn as she'd disturb him so she lay there thinking about Charlotte and babies and families until, eventually, the whisky won and she drifted off.

The next morning things were back to normal. Liv woke up to an empty bed. She turned over to look at the clock on the bedside table and found a note propped up against it.

I've gone to the old house to do some work. Don't worry – I'm fine. I'll be back for lunch. Btw, I've left the key to your flat at reception with Paul, the concierge. Bx

Liv rolled onto her back and sighed. She was secretly relieved he'd gone out. She felt guilty for thinking that but her head was fogged from last night's whisky session and she was in no state to think, let alone talk, about the whole Charlotte situation. She glanced at the clock. 9.30am. She scrabbled around on the floor for her phone.

'What time is it?' India barked.

'9.30.'

'Then why are you ringing me? It's practically still night time.'

'I thought you might want to come over for breakfast.'

'With you and Benedict? Thanks, but I really don't think so. I'm hungover and I can't deal with anymore drama this weekend.'

Liv heard the tell-tale rustle of a Rizla being extracted from a packet. 'He's not here. It'll be just you and me. I'll make pancakes and you can help me decide about the flat.'

Liv heard the click of a lighter and then a deep intake of breath.

'Hmm, well, maybe then.'

'Go on. I'm sorry I haven't seen you properly for ages. Let me make it up to you. We can eat on the roof terrace so you can smoke.'

There was silence for a few seconds while India weighed up bed versus pancakes and smoking.

'Shit, alright then. I'll shower and come over.'

They lay back on the sun loungers. It was hot already and the pancakes combined with the hangover had knocked them out. They closed their eyes behind their big sunglasses and soaked up the sun.

'It's bloody amazing up here,' said India, blowing slow smoke rings up into the sky. 'Benedict is so seriously minted.'

'I know,' said Liv. 'I'm not sure I like it. People probably think I'm freeloading.'

'Fuck what other people think,' said India, waving her hand dismissively. 'You know you're not freeloading and so does he and that's all that matters really.'

'I suppose so,' said Liv unconvinced. 'I feel like I'm freeloading though, especially if I agree to take this flat.'

'The flat's empty, right?'

'Yeah.'

'And it's going to stay empty till the guys downstairs get another job and leave?'

'Yeah.'

'And you're going to pay all the bills?'

'Of course.'

'So why are you worrying? No one's going to miss out because you're going to be living there. And if you live there, you can do your research and that might really help someone. Which is the whole point of your research project, right?' She looked at Liv. Liv grudgingly nodded. 'So really, you're morally obliged to take the flat because if you don't, you'll have to live with the knowledge that you could have saved someone's life but you didn't because you're pig-headed.'

'When you put it like that,' Liv laughed, 'it sounds like I don't have any choice.'

'Nope, you don't. Do it. Anyway, what's the worst that could happen? You break up with Benedict somewhere down the line and have to move out. Even if that happens, at least you'll have started your research and you can find someone else to fund you. Everyone's banging on about men's mental health now. Even Prince Harry.'

'Maybe. I'll think about it. Shall we go and see the flat then?'

'In a minute. I'm enjoying the sun too much to go inside just yet.'

Liv let herself relax on the lounger. Her eyes were closed but the light was bright enough to filter through her eyelids.

'I want to check something, though,' said India.

'Umm.'

'You are happy with Benedict?'

'Yeah. It's complicated but yeah.'

'And he's treating you properly? I mean, I've seen what he's like with you – he can't take his eyes or hands off you – but is it ok when it's just you and him?'

'It's difficult because we're both so scared of being in a relationship but I think, or at least I hope, we'll get over that eventually.'

'When he came out to see you in Italy, I wasn't sure that you should get back together with him. He really hurt you.'

'I know. Neither did I. He really did hurt me but I know he didn't do it intentionally. That's what makes me think that we'll be ok. He's been really damaged by his mum leaving him when he was so little and all that stuff with his dad. And now his dad's gone and his little sister's life is all up in the air. It's a lot of stress and baggage.'

'That's what I'm worried about. He's got a lot of stuff that he needs to deal with. You're only just getting over yours and now you're going to have to help him through all of his. Shit is shit even if it's cushioned by loads of money.'

'Everyone's got stuff to deal with. Maybe I've got a bit more than some people but no one comes baggage free. Look at it from his perspective – I've been raped by a psychotic boyfriend who killed himself. That's not exactly what you want to hear on a first date.'

'If he can't deal with that, then he's not worth it,' India huffed, protectively.

'But that's the point,' Liv argued. 'He can deal with it. He's not put off by what's happened to me, it's just that he can't deal with what's happened to him.'

'Other people's stuff is always easier than your own,' India sighed. 'Well, if you're sure about him, then he's ok by me.'

'I am.'

'Ok, then I can stop worrying.'

'Yes, you can. You're a good friend, you know. You're always looking out for me.'

'I am the best.'

Liv laughed. 'And so modest too. Anyway, enough about me. What's going on with you?'

'Oh, you know. Nothing much. Shall we go and see the flat now?' India started to get up.

Liv knew India's distraction tactics too well to be thrown off the scent.

'Not so fast. What are you not telling me?'

'What do you mean? There's nothing to tell.' India's tone was outraged but Liv knew she was faking it. India was standing up and keen to get downstairs when a second ago she wanted to laze in the sun for a bit longer.

'Do I have to ask Kate?'

'Shit, don't do that. I'll never get her off my back if she thinks something's going on.'

'So, there is something going on?'

'I didn't say that!'

'Then tell me or I'll ring her.'

'God, alright. You're just like Kate sometimes, you know.' India sat down again and fished her tobacco and Rizlas out of her shorts. 'So, you know Benedict said he knew people who might be interested in my paintings? Well, his PA gave me a list of names. I wasn't sure about ringing them cold so I went to scope out the nearest one. A guy who owns a restaurant in the village. So one afternoon last week, I went in, sat at the bar and ordered a glass of wine to give me the balls to talk to the owner. But you know me, I got pissed really quickly because I'm a very cheap date and it was way too early for wine. I started chatting to the bar man and stupidly blurted out why I was there. He went off to find the owner, who turns out to be a chef called Jacob. Apparently, Benedict and Jacob know each other from grape picking in France. Benedict gave him some money to start the restaurant. Anyway, he sat down with me and had a drink. We chatted for a few minutes and he said he'd be interested in seeing my paintings. He was looking for a local artist to exhibit.' She finished rolling her cigarette and popped it in her mouth while she fished around for a lighter.

'That's brilliant!' said Liv.

'I know. It's fucking great, right?' she mumbled through pursed lips.

'And then?'

'Well,' said India, looking a bit sheepish. 'He was really hot. He was in his whites, with his sleeves rolled up. He had these unusual tattoos on his arms. You know I love a tattoo.' India had been known to love tattoos more than the boyfriends they were on.

'And?'

'Well, he said he could see my paintings there and then if I wanted. It was the end of service anyway and he could do with getting outside for a bit because it's so hot in the kitchen. So, we walked back to the flat and I showed him my paintings. We had a coffee and a cigarette. And then I had the best shag I've had in ages! It was fucking amazing!'

'Wow!'

India was really animated and waving her hands around. 'I know. It was so weird. We were just sitting on the sofa chatting and suddenly he took my cup out of my hand and put it down on the table. Then he took my hairband out, all very slowly and gently, and he kissed me.'

'That sounds like something out of a cheesy film when the guy takes off the geeky woman's glasses and says some bollocks about how beautiful she is without them.'

'I know. It sounds tacky but it was really hot. He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen. Look, I'll show you a photo.' She stuck the cigarette between her lips and fished her mobile out of her pocket to show Liv a close-up of a man with flushed cheeks and long blond hair fanned out on a pillow. His eyes were a very, very pale, almost eerily, blue. 'Isn't he fucking gorgeous?' India's own face flushed with excitement and more than a bit of lust as she stared at the screen.

'Have you seen him since?' asked Liv, handing back the phone.

'Yeah, he's been round every afternoon and then after work in the evening. I'm fucking shattered. I don't know how he does it. He's at work from eight in the morning and doesn't finish till midnight and then he's round here shagging me all night. He's a machine!'

'How old is he?'

'Thirty something? I'm not sure.'

'Is it just sex?'

'No, he's totally into me. He asked me round to the restaurant the other night. All the staff had gone home, it was just us. He'd cooked all my favourite things and rigged up fairy lights and candles all round the little courtyard outside. We had dinner, drank and then danced to some old French music. How amazing is that?'

'Really amazing. Are you happy?'

'Yeah, he's great.' India's face blossomed into a goofy smile. She fell back onto the lounger with a deep, contented sigh.

'If you'd told me a month ago that we'd both meet someone and fall madly in love, I'd have said you were mad. But it's happened.'

'I know. How weird is that. Especially as you get to fly around in your own private jet.'

'It's not my jet,' said Liv hotly.

'Not yet but it soon will be.'

'Come on, let's go and see that flat.'

The flat could have been a show home. Tucked away down a little corridor on the ground floor, the whole place was painted white. The carpets were a tasteful beige and the furniture was all pale wood. The flat was small, just a bedroom, a little galley kitchen, a windowless bathroom and a living room that looked out over the back wall of the building next door.

'It's not exactly a room with a view but it's nice,' said India as they opened every door and peered inside. 'I can see you living here.'

Liv felt the same but hadn't said so because she felt guilty. If she moved in here, she wasn't going to be moving back in with India.

'I won't mind,' said India, knowing that Liv's Catholic guilt would be shooting off the scale. 'You've got to live somewhere. And plus, with Jacob dropping round all hours of the day and night, you probably wouldn't be able to get any work done at our flat anyway.'

'It's not so much Jacob disturbing me as you,' Liv sniggered. 'You're so loud when you have sex. I'm surprised your mum and dad don't know you're seeing someone. You sound like an opera singer doing a warm-up. You're probably shattering wine glasses all over Clifton.'

'Shut up!' said India blushing furiously. 'The sex is so amazing that I can't help it. Jacob does lots of yoga and he can hold the most unbelievable positions.'

'Kate would be impressed. You might be able to win in a family game of top sex trumps.'

'Oh God, please don't. Don't put me and Jacob having sex in the same sentence as my mum and dad having sex!' She covered her face with her hands and moaned.

'Do you remember that time you brought a boyfriend round to meet your mum and dad. Who was it? Nick or Alex?'

'It was Alex but don't! I won't listen.' India clamped her hands over her ears.

'We were having lunch and your mum asked Alex if you were correctly engaging his prostate. And she then showed us all how to do it just to make sure.'

'I haven't been able look at a napkin ring since.'

They both giggled and collapsed on the beige sofa.

'And she asked your dad to show us how to find the G-spot. With a hollowed-out baguette.'

'And Alex was so shocked that he choked on a Jerusalem artichoke.'

'He started to go really purple. I thought he was going to die.'

'And then it shot out of his mouth and onto your mum's plate.'

They laughed until they had tears running down their faces.

When they'd calmed down, Liv took one last look around the living room. She was going to miss living with India but maybe it was time to move on.

'I think I'll take this place.'

'Yeah, I think you should.'
Chapter Twenty-TWO

Benedict was waiting by the lift when Liv and India came out giggling, arm in arm, from the flat. He had his back to them so Liv had a second to look at him before he noticed her. Even from behind she could tell that he was down. He usually stood tall and confident but now his shoulders sagged with the weight of Charlotte's horrible news. Her first instinct was to hug him so she slipped her arm out of India's and ran over to throw her arms around him. She clasped her hands around his waist and kissed him behind his ear.

'Hello, you,' she whispered.

'Hello,' he said in surprise. She let him go so he could turn around. 'I don't get this kind of welcome by the lift every day.'

'No offence, Paul,' she said looking over his shoulder at the concierge, who was pretending to clean his glasses but actually listening to every word, 'I'd worry if you grabbed him from behind and kissed him when he came home from work every day.'

Paul winked back at her. 'I think my husband would have something to say about that too. Plus, no offence but he's not really my type.'

'So, who's your type then?' India asked, joining in.

'Lovely as he is, Mr Cassell doesn't have enough meat on him for my tastes. I like a man with a bit of heft.'

It was true that his husband, Craig the building handyman, was massive. His jeans struggled to contain his huge, meaty thighs. Liv had seen him striding around the building with a tool belt round his waist. She thought he looked like the star of a cheesy porn film about to knock on the front door of a pneumatic woman in a see-through negligee.

'Well, I think he's perfect,' said Liv.

Benedict gave her a small smile.

'Don't mind me while I heave into this plant pot,' India smirked. 'I think I should leave you two alone.'

'You don't have to go,' said Liv. 'Stay for lunch.'

'Nah, I'm knackered. Thanks, though.' India kissed them both on the cheek and left.

Benedict reached behind Liv and pressed the button for the lift. 'I've been thinking about you all morning.'

'I've been thinking about you too. Are you ok? Do you want to talk about last night?'

'I wasn't thinking about that.' He brought his mouth up close to her ear so that Paul wouldn't hear. 'I was thinking about fucking you.'

The lift arrived and the doors slid open.

'After you.' Benedict gestured for Liv to go in first and then followed her in. He pressed the button for the top floor and went to stand next to her. When the doors finally slid shut, he pulled her hard against him.

'I've been thinking about fucking you all morning,' he said urgently, raking his hands through her hair and kissing her frantically. 'Sliding my cock into you from behind and fucking you hard and fast.'

Liv wasn't against a good hard fuck, in fact she was all for it, but she also wasn't about to carry on as if nothing had happened last night. 'I think we should talk first.'

Benedict ignored her and planted small butterfly kisses on her neck while he pressed his stiff cock against her thigh. He knew exactly what he was doing. Her neck was a hotline to her knickers. Kissing her there was like flicking a switch inside her. Liv spread herself against the mirrored wall of the lift and arched her back in pleasure.

'You have to promise me we'll talk about this later,' she gasped, feeling herself already getting wet.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He peeled away from her for a second and punched a code into a keypad on the lift's control panel. The lift jolted to a stop.

Liv pressed her hand against his chest before he could lean in and start kissing her again.

'Are you sure you're ok to do this?' she asked. Now that he'd started kissing her neck, she didn't want him to stop but it seemed like the responsible thing to check if he wanted to stop.

'I need to do this,' he said with desperation in his voice. 'Now.'

'Ok,' she murmured, reaching down between them to quickly unbutton his jeans.

Then he pulled her dress off and threw it onto the floor. It left her feeling naked though she was wearing the delicate underwear he'd bought her. The two triangles of sheer peach lace and silky spaghetti straps did little to cover her breasts. She reached up and pulled Benedict's t-shirt off. It joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Next, she nodded at his bulging waistband.

'Get your cock out,' she ordered.

Benedict reached down to free his cock from his boxers. It was so big that its head was tucked under the waistband of his pants. He pulled it out through the opening in his pants and Liv took it in her right hand. She stroked it and raked it gently with her nails. Benedict gasped and opened his legs wide. Liv dropped to her knees and tugged his jeans and boxers down to expose his balls and cock. He had such a beautiful cock. It was so erect that its tip practically touched his stomach. It curved up from its thick root, staying just as wide all the way up. Liv loved the look and the feel of it. She brushed her cheek against it first, feeling the silky skin against hers. Then she rubbed her moistened lips lightly across its fat tip. When she rubbed her lips over it again, she parted them so that her tongue could trail lazily across it too. She licked away the drop of stickiness oozing from the slit. He moaned, clutched her head in his hands and gently bucked into her face. From there Liv moved down to his balls, leaving a wet trail with her tongue. She licked round them and they instantly tightened at her touch. She licked back up his cock in one slow motion, finishing with a swirl around the fat ridge at the top. Benedict's breath caught in his throat at the slow but steady build-up of pleasure.

'Fuck, that feels good,' he moaned, his hips thrusting a bit harder.

'And how about this?' she said, wetting a finger from her other hand and then sliding it between his legs to find his arsehole. She carefully traced around the tight, puckered hole with her wet fingertip.

'That feels fucking good too,' he moaned, grabbing her hair a bit harder.

Liv then took his cock into her mouth and drew her lips tight around it. She bobbed her head up and down over his cock a few times until she felt his arsehole relax slightly. Still sucking, she slipped the very tip of her finger inside him. When he didn't clench, she slid another fingertip inside him and pumped it gently.

'How's this?'

'Jesus, that feels amazing,' he gasped.

Liv sucked him harder, taking his cock deep into the back of her mouth. It was big enough to make her gag but she didn't care. From the noises he was making, he was loving it. She glanced up and saw that Benedict had his head thrown back. His knees were already buckling from her deep, rhythmic sucks. She decided to take it up a gear and wriggled her fingers past the tight ring of muscle just inside his arse. She found the soft mound just behind it. Benedict instantly juddered against her.

'Tell me what you want,' she said. She pressed her fingers against the mound. 'Like this?' She then tapped it a few times. 'Or like this?' She changed to circling round it. 'Or like this?'

'It's all fucking amazing,' he moaned. 'Don't make me come yet, though. I want to fuck you.'

'You will. In a minute.'

She kept sucking and fingering him but at a slower pace stopped until she came to a stop and slid her fingers out. Then she got up and turned around to grab hold of the brass railing that ran around the lift. She bent down as far as she could towards her feet and lifted her arse high in the air. She felt him come up close behind her, the downy hair on his thighs brushing against her buttocks. He slid his hand down the back of her knickers.

'God, you're wet,' he murmured, with a couple of fingers inside her. He drew them in and out a few times. Liv could hear the wetness on his fingers as Benedict pumped them faster and harder until he felt her tighten around them. When he thought she was ready, he pulled the crotch of her delicate knickers to one side and pressed the sticky tip of his cock against her lips. Then he pulled her hips up towards him and inched his cock into her until with a long sigh.

'That looks so hot from up here,' he said, looking down to watch his huge cock disappear into her and come out again sheathed in her wetness.

'It feels pretty fucking hot from down here too,' she said between little pants of pleasure.

After a few gentle, exquisite strokes, Benedict started to pound her hard. His cock stretched her wide, the tip banged against her cervix. Her pants turned to deep moans as his thrusts got more insistent.

'You feel so good,' she moaned. 'You're so big.'

'And you feel so wet and tight.'

His balls slapping against her arse with every thrust and she reached through her legs to cup them in her hand. She squeezed them slightly and he moaned some more.

'You're going to make me come,' he said hoarsely.

'Come then,' she urged. 'Come for me.'

He gripped her hard, his fingers digging into her hips as he got closer and closer. The force of his thrusts knocked all the breath out of her. Just when Liv thought that she couldn't hold onto the bar anymore, he stopped thrusting and pulled her back onto his cock instead. She felt his knees buckle slightly and his breath catch as he got to the peak. When he came, he pounded her against him with each spurt, releasing a small cry of pain with each one. He seemed to come for ages. Finally, he pressed his cock deep into her for the last trembling shot.

They stayed like that for a while, Liv bent over the rail and Benedict with his cock deep inside her. When his breathing got back to normal, he bent over to rest his chest against her back, skin to skin.

'That was amazing and you're amazing,' he whispered. 'You have no idea how fucking hot you are.'

He reached round her waist and down between her legs, nudging aside her knickers to part her wet lips. He dipped his fingers just inside her where his cum was starting to ooze out round the sides of his cock. With his fingers wet, he drew them out again and found her clitoris. He rubbed lazy circles around it, getting closer to the sensitive nub with each lap. When he got there, he made little, firm strokes backwards and forwards across it and then switched tight circles with his fingertip in the very centre of her clit. Then he switched back again. The changing stimulation drove Liv mad. Just when she thought she was going to come, he'd start rubbing her in a different way. Liv felt herself being sucked into that dark place inside herself as her pleasure built until it was almost painful. She strained against Benedict's hand and gripped the handrail hard, willing her orgasm to happen but also willing the breathless climb to it to keep on building. She wanted to see just how far she could go, whether she could take any more. When she finally did peak, when her legs were shaking from the strain and her hands were numb from gripping the handrail so hard, she couldn't breathe. The waves of pleasure pulsed out from her core and made her lightheaded. She wondered if she was going to faint. She literally saw stars behind her closed eye lids as each wave hit her. She was pulled so deep inside herself that she wasn't aware where she was at all.
Chapter Twenty-Three

It was only lunchtime but Liv needed a lie down. She wanted to snuggle down in Benedict's lovely, wide bed with its velvety grey covers. It had everything she loved about posh hotels – the high, plump mattress and the baby soft sheets. She stepped through the front door with legs as shaky as a new born foal and headed straight for the bedroom. The heavy grey curtains were still drawn from that morning and the room was warm from the summer sun pounding on the windows outside. Liv kicked off her shoes, slipped off her dress again and hopped into bed. She pulled up the thin, cotton sheet over her and let her head sink deep into the huge marshmallow pillow with a big sigh. Benedict watched her from the door way. She held her hand out to him.

'Come in,' she smiled.

'You're leading me astray,' he said, kicking off his jeans and climbing in beside her. 'This feels really decadent. Before I met you, I don't think I'd spent an afternoon in bed since I had my tonsils out as a kid.'

'Just think of it as making up for all those years when you were working hard and the rest of us were sleeping off hangovers as students,' Liv answered, as he snuggled up behind her. 'God, this bed is comfortable. I never want to get up again.'

'That sounds like a plan.' Benedict draped his arm over her waist in what was fast becoming 'their' position.

'By the way, you're not getting up until we've talked about last night,' Liv murmured. She was on the edge of dozing off. 'You can't use sex to blot out how you feel. Even if the sex is mind-blowing.'

'Yes, Dr Freud.'

'You can joke but if you don't talk to me I might have to withhold,' Liv warned.

'You drive a hard bargain.'

'Yep, no talk, no sex.'

When Liv woke up a few hours later, she was confused. Sleeping during the day always had that effect on her. It took her a few minutes to work out where she was, especially as she'd woken up in a lot of different bedrooms lately. Then she noticed that her mouth was horribly dry. The kind of dry where you think you might never be able to peel your tongue away from the back of your teeth. She'd obviously slept with her mouth wide open (how attractive) and the room was now hot rather than warm. Having Benedict pressed up against her didn't help either. He pumped out heat like a radiator. She tried to ease her way out of bed without disturbing him. She didn't want him to wake up just yet. She'd made him promise to talk to her after their nap but now she was awake, she wasn't sure she was ready to handle something so monumental. She hadn't really had any time on her own to think it through. Normally, she liked to sit down with a piece of paper and a pen and write down all the pros and cons in a tricky situation. It helped to focus her mind. Plus, all you had to do was look at which column was longer and bang, there was your answer. If only she could find five minutes to do that now. She lifted his arm from her waist very carefully and tried to slide out from underneath it. Benedict wasn't having any of it. He pulled her even closer to him.

'Where are you going?' he murmured into the back of her neck.

'To get some water.'

'Ok. Get me some too.'

In the kitchen, Liv took her time finding the glasses, which wasn't difficult in Benedict's invisible kitchen. It was always a long game of cupboard roulette. Once she'd found the glasses, she spent ages running the tap. She watched the water pouring out of the big, coiled tap and down into the plug hole, all the while trying to work out what would happen now that Benedict knew that he'd got Charlotte pregnant. What would be consequences be for him? She didn't know and she doubted that anyone else would be able to work it out in a few short minutes either. With a sigh, she filled the glasses and turned off the tap.

Benedict was sitting up in bed. His hair was sticking up in sweaty peaks but the rest of him was perfect. Liv both loved and hated the way his rock-hard stomach was so flat whatever position he was in. There was no spare, soft flesh on him anywhere. He was all lean ridges and taut skin. It made her self-conscious when she sat down next to him and saw her own little pot belly pop out. She knew it wasn't down to eating gluten or whatever it was that other women swore caused bloating. Food caused that bulge. She liked it and she ate lots of it. If she had to choose between food and a thigh gap, macaroni cheese would always win.

'Are you alright?' he asked. 'You were in the kitchen for ages.'

She handed him a glass of water and then sat down next to him, careful to pull the sheet over her soft, spongy waist. She figured it would be easier for him to talk if they were side by side. She'd always found it easier to have difficult conversations in the car where you didn't have to look at someone when you dropped a bombshell.

'So,' she said cautiously. She picked up the edge of the sheet and nervously ran the hem backwards and forwards through her fingers.

Benedict drew his knees up and hugged them in defensive position 101.

'Charlotte's never exactly been my favourite person but she really reached new depths last night,' Liv said, hoping to prompt him.

Benedict didn't take the bait.

'It must've been a horrible shock for you,' she pressed on.

Liv stared at his back and willed him to say something, even if it was just telling her to leave it alone. They sat like that for what felt like an eternity, Benedict hugging his knees and Liv playing with the sheet. Liv knew she had to sit and wait for him to crack but the waiting was painful.

'When I was a kid,' Benedict started finally, 'I decided that I'd definitely never have any kids. I didn't want to put anyone through what I'd been through. I knew what it felt like to be left and I didn't know if I could stay. My mum had found it so easy to up and go so why wouldn't I? We share the same DNA. When I found out that about the whole Charlotte chlamydia thing, that just confirmed the idea that I maybe wasn't meant to have kids. It wasn't as if it was something I'd desperately wanted and then lost, so I was ok with it. And I was still really young. Babies aren't something that most blokes are thinking about when they're 20. Usually they're desperately trying to avoid having any.' He paused and reached for a sip of water. He put the glass down again and went back into his huddle. 'I didn't think about babies until my Dad had Lola five years ago. I'd never been around one before so I was blown away the first time I held her. She was so small and delicate, she made me feel like a giant. She was all curled up in the crook of my arm and she made the cutest little snuffling noises. And I could see the way Dad looked at her. He looked totally in love. I thought about that look all the way back home to England afterwards. It was something that I'd never had but I suddenly really wanted. I wanted that unconditional thing that was just there, not because I'd chosen to have a relationship with someone, but because that baby came from me. They were half me. That's a kind of connection you can't have with anyone else.' He seemed to run out of voice so he stopped for a few seconds. 'In the end, I learned not to think about it. It wasn't that difficult as I've never been in a relationship where I could imagine having children. Till now.'

Liv didn't know what to say so she put her hand on his back to comfort him. He tried to shrug it off.

'Don't!' he grumbled, roughly. 'I don't want your sympathy.'

'Why not?' Liv shot back.

'It feels like you're pitying me.'

'I'm not. I'm showing you that I care that you're upset. What's wrong with that?'

He didn't answer.

'Come on,' Liv pressed him. 'What's wrong with showing that I care?'

'You care now but you probably won't care as much when you want to have kids,' he said.

'How can you know that?' Liv was shocked. Shocked that he could think that about her. That she'd dump him the second she got broody and find someone else.

'I just do.'

'Well, you're wrong.' Liv was so angry that she got up and marched round to his side of the bed. 'I care now and I'll care then, even if you're being an arse.' He still wouldn't look at her but she jabbed an angry finger at him anyway. 'Don't you presume to know what I think. You know what I think? I think that there's nothing 'wrong' with you. It's not your fault you're infertile. It just happened when you were still a kid. And I'm not judging you for it.'

'Well, it's not a big deal now but it will be one day. Most people want children and when they do, they don't want to be stuck with someone who can't give them what they want. I've read all the stuff about infertility and how it affects people's relationships. Most people with fertility problems end up getting divorced.'

'That might be true but we haven't talked about having children. I might not even want them.'

'Do you?'

'I don't know,' she shouted, exasperated. 'Maybe one day. Maybe most people know one way or the other by the time they're in the late twenties but my life's been on hold for the last few years. I'm behind everyone else. I haven't even had a boyfriend so babies haven't really been on my radar.'

'But what if you do want one eventually? I won't be able to give you what you want.'

'Look, there are a lot of 'ifs' in all of that. I think we both know better than most people that you never know what's going to happen. And you really can't tell how you'll feel when something does.' Looking at Benedict hunched over on the bed, Liv felt the fight go out of her. She couldn't be angry with him when really, deep down, she knew he was scared. She sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and stroked his back. This time he didn't try to shake her off. 'I know you're pushing me away because you're frightened of getting hurt. It's ok to be frightened but maybe you could tell me what you're scared of instead of trying to break us up.'

His head snapped up. 'I'm not trying to break us up,' he said hotly.

'I don't mean you're doing it on purpose,' Liv said calmly. 'It's a self-defence thing. Your brain's trying to find a way to stop you getting hurt further down the line and the best way is to do that is to break thing off now.'

Benedict looked unconvinced. 'Maybe,' he grudgingly accepted, wiping his tears and snot on the back of his wrist.

'Look, Benedict, there's a lot for you to deal with right now. There's me, there's Lola and, as of last night, there's Charlotte. I'm not surprised you want to protect yourself. Who wouldn't? You're being attacked from all sides.'

He turned his head away from her again and rested it back on his knees. 'It's taken me five years to get my head around not being able to have children and then I find out that I could have had one all along,' he said quietly. 'I feel like I've lost something all over again. I feel fucking awful, especially with the court case for Lola next week.' He sat up straight suddenly. 'Fucking Charlotte,' he yelled and threw at pillow at the wall as hard as he could.

Liv picked up another one and hurled it too. 'Yeah, fucking bastard stuck-up WITCH!' she shouted.

Benedict looked at her, shocked by her outburst.

Liv picked up another pillow and this time she hit him with it. 'I HATE you Charlotte!' she yelled.

'You're mad,' said Benedict, picking up a pillow and whacking her with it. 'But you're right. Charlotte is an absolute WANKER!' He whacked her again and she fell onto the bed.

'A CUNT of the highest order!' Liv shouted from under the pillow she was holding over her head to fend off Benedict's whacks. He was up on his knees really putting everything into it. He broke away to shout some more.

'Yeah, she's a CUNT!' he roared at the ceiling, and Liv took the chance to surge up and bring him down onto the bed on his back. She straddled him, pinning his arms to his sides, with a victorious grin on her face.

'Ha, you're trapped now!' She gave him a few more playful thumps with the pillow and then put it down. She leaned her hands against his chest and looked at him. 'Now I've got your attention, you're going to have to listen to me. You're a lot stronger than you think. You survived your mum leaving you and your dad dying and you're still here. I don't believe that what doesn't kill, makes you stronger but I do think some people just have bigger reserves of resilience. And you've got loads.' She leaned down to kiss him. 'Plus, you've got me.'

Benedict tried to wriggle free but then gave up. 'But that's not how I want 'us' to be,' he sighed. 'I don't want to fall to pieces and rely on you to help me. I already feel inadequate because I'm infertile. If I need you to prop me up, then I'll feel like a total loser.'

Liv looked at him like he was mad. 'A loser? There's no prize for getting through shit by yourself. Anyone who's been through something terrible will tell you that it was other people's support that got them through it. That it was the only good thing to come out of a tragedy.' She was starting to get really annoyed. 'Do you think I'm a loser because I let India, Rufus, Kate and Tim help me?'

'No, of course I don't,' he muttered quickly and turned his head away.

'So, what are you saying? The same rules don't apply to you?' Liv couldn't help it but she could feel her feminist rage rising up. 'Are you saying that it's ok for a woman to need support but it's not ok for a man?' 'No, it's not that.'

Liv lifted herself off him and threw herself down on the bed next to him.

'What is it then?' she huffed, still not entirely convinced that he wasn't a closet sexist.

'If I get used to relying on you, what happens when you leave?' he said.

'What do you mean, 'when'?' Liv threw out. 'Thanks for the vote of confidence.'

Benedict said nothing.

She sat up on the bed to look at him. 'Look at me!'

He turned his head reluctantly.

'I know it's a massive thing for you to accept, but I'm not going anywhere, even if you're an irritating bastard. You have to trust me on that.' She jabbed him in the chest to underline her point. 'I want to be with you and I'm planning to stay with you. You're going to have to make that leap of faith otherwise we're not going to survive. You can't hold back if you really love someone.'

'I do really love you but I'm scared.'

'I know but everyone's scared!' Liv was starting to get really riled again. Every time she thought they were getting somewhere, he'd go back to the same thing. It was like explaining Relationships 101 to an alien. 'Some people are just better at ignoring the uncertainty that comes with falling in love. What's that crappy book called – 'Feel the fear and do it anyway'? That's basically it. You have to accept that love comes with a risk. And it has to work both ways. It can't just be me taking the risk.'

'I suppose not,' said Benedict gruffly.

'Look,' Liv said, softening slightly, 'I know it's a lot to take in, with Charlotte and everything. Can you at least think about it? Not now but at some point?'

'Ok,' he said wearily. 'I will. I promise.'

Then he lay down and put his head in her lap. Liv looked down at him. She studied his beautiful face as he cuddled up against her. He was obviously still gorgeous but totally exhausted. As he finally relaxed, Liv realised she'd never seen him stay still for long unless she was going down on him and even then he couldn't stop himself from taking control after a few minutes. When they went to bed at night, he was up again before she'd managed one whole cycle of sleep. He was constantly busy and working towards the next thing. If they wanted to stay together, that would have to change. They had to work on improving what they had, which meant lots talking and compromise, and Liv wasn't sure how easy that would be for him. He was used to calling all the shots on his own. Liv sighed at the prospect of the uphill struggle ahead of them. She stroked his hair. She loved it; it was so soft, thick and shiny. It slipped through her fingers like golden silk. She hoped that his heart would be easier to hold onto.
Chapter Twenty-Four

It was early evening when they finally ventured out of the flat. They wove their way through the little pockets of tourists outside the building. Being so close to the bridge, there was a constant stream of sightseers, especially at the weekends. Like most tourists, they blocked up the pavement. They always stopped slap bang in the middle to look at a map or dig something out of their massive backpacks. Liv and Benedict carefully stepped around a knot of Chinese people and headed for the village. Luckily, that was quieter. It was that little lull before dinner when the families had gone home for the day and the evening crowd hadn't arrived yet.

Benedict hadn't said a word since they'd left the flat. In fact, he hadn't said anything much before that either. At least he was holding her hand. Liv comforted herself with the thought that, if he was pissed off, he'd have steamed off ahead of her or even refused to go out for a walk at all. She'd suggested having a picnic on Brandon Hill. She often went and sat on a bench to look at the view when there was something on her mind. Seeing all the city stretched out before her and the hills in the distance reminded her that she was just a speck in the universe and so were her problems. They might seem enormous to her but, in every room in every building she could see, other people were having their own dramas and disasters. People were splitting up, giving birth and dying. Even collectively, all these problems didn't add up to much. The world wouldn't stop turning, as her mum was fond of saying. She hoped that Benedict might get a bit of perspective up there too.

They walked through the Triangle and stopped at Pinkmans' bakery at the top of Park Street to pick up some food. The fat doughnuts, topped with a gooey wodge of honeycomb, called to Liv from the counter. Comfort food, she decided, was the way to go. Benedict waited on the street, hunched over on the small bench outside. While their food was being packed up, Liv watched him through the big window. He sat with his chin propped in hands, staring into the traffic. People milled around him but he sat perfectly still. There were loud, excited people tripping down the hill for a Saturday night in town, customers straggling out of the café, buses straining to get up the steep road in the heat. In the middle of it all, he sat there like a statue in a time lapse film, frozen in the blur of activity round him. Liv didn't know what he was thinking but, judging from his silent brooding, she didn't think it was anything good. It was going to be a long picnic.

Walking round the corner and into the park, Liv filled the awkward silence with chatter. She could hear herself talking absolute rubbish but she couldn't stop. She told him about all the hot air balloon fiestas she'd watched from here, getting up ridiculously early to see hundreds of balloons going up at dawn. She loved seeing the balloons at night too, when they looked like huge glowing lanterns. When they got to her favourite bench, Liv sat down. Benedict sat down too. Liv stopped talking to take in the view. She knew it wasn't exactly Primrose Hill or Central Park but she found it moved her all the same. Everything, from the rows of coloured houses to the hulking redbrick Big Yellow storage building over in Bedminster, reminded her that she was home in a way that nowhere else could. She loved visiting other places – the luxurious hotel on the hilltop in Italy from earlier in the week was a definite highlight – but she couldn't imagine that anywhere else would ever mean as much to her. She'd known that even at fifteen, when her parents had decided to move back to Italy. She preferred to stay behind and finish school rather than go with them. Her parents thought she was mad but then they'd always had their eye on going back to the place their own parents had been born. Despite spending all her summers there as a child, Liv didn't feel that deep rooted sense of belonging in Italy that the rest of her family had. She only felt that in Bristol.

Benedict was looking out at the view too but Liv couldn't tell if he was actually seeing anything. She supposed he was still caught up in the endless loops going round and round in his head. She decided that the best thing was to carry on as normal so she unpacked their food on the bench next to her. Benedict took the hefty baguette sandwich and bottle of water she gave him but put them straight down next to him on the bench.

'I'm sorry for being such rubbish company,' he said finally. 'I just don't know what to say.'

Liv stopped chewing. 'That's ok. I know it's hard.'

'I'm really trying to get my head round it all. I'm sorry.'

'You don't have to keep saying you're sorry. It's fine. You need some time for it all to sink in before you can work out what you actually think.' Liv hooked her leg over his and pulled herself closer.

'You're amazing. Do you know that?'

'You're not the first to say it but I don't like to brag,' she joked in a serious voice. She caught the beginnings of a smile out of the corner of her eye. 'Promise me you'll come and watch the hot air balloons with me next month.'

'We can probably watch them from the roof terrace.'

'Yeah, but that no's fun. You need to force yourself to get up at 5.30 and then sit on damp grass in a deserted park to really appreciate them.'

'When you put it like that, how can I say no? Sleep deprivation and the possibility of piles are definite winners in my book.'

She elbowed him and then picked up her sandwich again. 'God, this bread is amazing,' she said through mouthfuls of chewy crust. 'It's a good thing I don't live in France. I'd be the size of that Big Yellow Storage over there. I'd be a landmark like the Eiffel Tower.'

'You'd still be lovely.'

'You say that now but when you have to rub antifungal cream between my folds of fat, you might think differently.'

'You say the nicest things, especially when we're eating mozzarella.'

'I know. I'm the perfect dinner party guest.'

When they'd finished their food, they took a walk round the park and went up to the top of the tower.

'I never get tired of this,' said Liv looking at the view.

'Are you sure you're not on commission from the tourist office?'

'Hey!' she said, sticking her tongue out and poking him in the ribs.

'And I'll never get tired of you.' He leaned in to give her a gentle kiss.

She looked into his green eyes and swept the hair back from his face. 'And I'll never get tired of you.' She paused. 'Especially if you pay me commission!' Then she ran off down the stairs with Benedict in hot pursuit.

After a pit stop at the gelato place on College Green, where Liv was welcomed like a long-lost cousin and given an extra scoop in her usual salted caramel, they walked back up Park Street and followed the route back home. They chatted between attempts to eat their ice cream. They had to eat it fast; the heat quickly turned it to a sticky trail down their arms. Just as Benedict was licking a long dribble of chocolate brownie ice cream from his elbow, his phone started ringing somewhere deep in his shorts' pocket.

'Can you get that? My hands are full.'

He lifted both of his arms up so that Liv could fish around in his pocket. By the time she'd found it, the phone had stopped ringing. She held up the phone so that Benedict could see who the caller was.

'Shit. Ring back now!'

'What's wrong?'

'Just ring back now!'

'I need the pass code.'

She'd just entered it when the phone started ringing again.

'Quick, answer it!'

Liv hadn't had time to say 'hello' before the woman at the other end rattled off a stream of French. Liv's school French wasn't good enough for her to understand what she was saying but she could hear the woman crying. The phone was then passed to a man.

'Attendez, s'il vous plaît,' Liv said and held the phone up to Benedict's ear. He listened and then rattled off questions in French.

When he'd finished talking, he thrust his ice cream into Liv's hand. 'We need to go now. I've got to make some calls on the way.'

'Why? What's wrong?' Liv threw the ice creams into the nearest bin and ran to catch up with him.

Without answering, Benedict raced along the street and then stepped out on to a zebra crossing. He held his hand out to the oncoming cars and marched across, with Liv struggling to keep up behind. His phone was pressed to his ear and he was talking fast in French. When he switched to English for the next call, she heard him telling his PA to sort out transport to France. By the time they'd reached their building, Trevor was already standing outside by the car.

'I'll be down in five minutes,' Benedict called to him as he rushed past and into the building. Breathless, Liv caught up with him at the lift where he was pushing the button as if his life depended on it.

'For fuck's sake, come on!' he shouted at the lift. He looked up to see which floor the lift was now on and, seeing it was still on level four, he turned and took the stairs instead. Liv ran after him. He was taking the stairs two at a time and she couldn't keep up with his long legs. By the time she reached the top, the door to the flat was wide open and he was somewhere inside. She found him throwing things into an overnight bag in the bedroom.

'What's going on?' she asked.

'It's Nathalie,' he said in a flat voice without looking up. 'It was her day to have Lola but she hasn't brought her back. She's meant to bring her back by five. It's 11 in France now and she's still not back. I've got to get over there and find her.'

Without a word, Liv ran to the guest room and dug out her own overnight bag. She took some clean clothes straight from the suitcase she'd yet to unpack, hurled in her toiletries bag and then picked up her passport off the dressing table. Benedict appeared at her door.

'I'm going now. I don't know when I'll be back. I'll call you as soon as I know what's going on.'

'I'm coming too,' said Liv, swinging the bag over her shoulder. 'You can't go by yourself.'

'You don't have to do this,' he said.

'I know I don't have to but I want to. We're together now and that's what people in relationships do. They support each other.' She strode past him into the hall. 'Come on, Trevor's waiting.' She called the lift and heard the front door slam behind her.
Chapter Twenty-five

The plane was waiting on the tarmac when they reached the airport. Benedict leapt straight out of the car and up the steps before Trevor even had time to put the handbrake on. Benedict was already clipped in at his usual seat at the table when Liv arrived on board.

'Are you sure you want to come?' he asked as she clipped herself in. 'It's not too late to change your mind. Trevor can take you home.'

'I'm coming to Paris with you,' she said firmly, tightening the strap across her lap.

'Actually, we're not going to Paris. She won't be there.'

'Where is she, then?'

'I've got a feeling she's gone to her parents' old holiday home.'

'Right. Why don't you tell the police? They'd get there much quicker than us.'

'Lola's foster parents haven't told them yet. They've been doing this long enough to know that getting the police involved just escalates everything. If Nathalie's pushed into a corner, then she might do something stupid. Plus, I can't just sit around and wait for someone else to find Lola. Dad would expect me to look out for her.'

Liv struggled to find a sensitive way to ask her next question, a question that she'd been trying to ignore since she'd answered his phone earlier on. She knew from the news headlines that kidnapping cases rarely had a happy ending. 'Do you think that Lola's alright?'

'I don't think Natalie's hurt her, if's that what you mean. I'm praying that she's panicked because the custody hearing's next week and she's freaking out about not getting Lola back.'

'I can't imagine how desperate she must be to run off with her.'

'God knows, but she's fucking stupid. No judge would look at this favourably.'

The plane started to taxi down the runway. As it picked up serious speed, Liv gripped Benedict's hand. It wasn't out of fear of flying but more out of a fear about what they were heading towards. Benedict knew Nathalie better than anyone but even he couldn't really know what she'd do to when pushed to the limit. Liv didn't have children so she couldn't understand the overwhelming, unconditional love that parents always talk about. She had a nephew and a niece so she'd experienced just a tiny bit of that love. Once, when they were toddlers, she'd taken Chiara and Enzo to the park by herself. While she'd been pushing Chiara on the swing, Enzo had been doing his best to destroy a rocking pony on a giant spring. He'd rocked it backwards and forwards with as much force as a three-yearold could manage. He was rocking so hard that Liv was worried that he might actually head-butt the ground. When Chiara wanted to get out of the swing, Liv took her eye off Enzo. Chiara wouldn't straighten her legs and then cried when her feet got caught under the bar. By the time Liv'd looked up, Enzo was gone. Worse still, the gate to the little play area was open. In the milliseconds it took her to figure out that he'd done a runner, Liv's brain had run wild with all kinds of hideous possibilities. She had visions of a man running off with Enzo and bustling him into a van, visions of having to tell Lucia that her son had been kidnapped. Liv was frantic with a panic she'd never felt before. It was a massive gaping chasm of panic and she was freefalling right into it. She grabbed Chiara and ran into the main park. She couldn't see Enzo anywhere so she kept running to the main entrance. And that's where she found him hiding behind a bin, a stone's throw from four lanes of cars hurtling past on the dual carriageway. How he'd managed to cover all that ground with his little legs, she didn't know and frankly she didn't care now that she'd found him. Those few heart stopping minutes were long enough to show her how much she loved him and wanted to protect him. She knew that Benedict must be feeling that kind of panic now but Natalie's torment would be off the scale. With her husband dead, she was about to lose her only child. She wouldn't admit it to Benedict but Liv could almost understand what Natalie had done.

Just as the plane levelled out, an air stewardess appeared from the back of the plane with a tray of coffee and croissants. Liv didn't know how someone could look so well turned out in the middle of the night, especially in heels, carrying crockery and fighting against turbulence. The air stewardess looked completely unfazed, as if it were perfectly normal for someone to serve coffee in stilettos at 30,000 feet at 2am. She smiled at Benedict and put the cups and plates down in front of him. Her smile evaporated when it was time to serve Liv. With a stony face, the stewardess banged the cup and saucer onto the table. When she'd poured the coffee and put the pot down, the stewardess brazenly walked round the table and stopped behind Benedict's seat. Tucking a strand of her glossy blonde hair behind her ear, she leant forward and laid her hand on his shoulder.

'I hope everything's ok with Lola,' she said, her mouth very close to his ear. Close enough for Liv to catch every syllable of her breathy delivery.

'Thanks, Laura,' Benedict replied, placing his hand over hers and squeezing it gently. 'So do I.' He smiled up at her and her carefully contoured face lit up.

The stewardess turned a fraction and smirked at Liv. Then she straightened up, smoothed her pencil skirt down over her impressive Pippa Middleton arse and sashayed back down the plane. At the end of the cabin, she glanced over her shoulder to check if her audience, which Liv figured didn't include her, was watching. He wasn't and Liv saw the woman's smile dissolve into a scowl as she closed the door behind her.

'What was that all about?' Liv asked.

Benedict looked up from the map he was studying on his iPad. 'What was all what about?'

'Laura?' Liv said. She tried to be as blasé as she could but even she could hear the high wobble in her voice over the whine of the plane's engines. A woman, a particularly attractive woman who flew with him in a plane that had its own a bedroom, had put her hand on Benedict. He'd put his hand on hers and she'd taken it as a small victory over Liv. It didn't take a bloody genius to work out that there was something going on between them. Liv felt a hideous pang of jealousy. 'She seems to know you quite well.'

Benedict went back to studying directions on his iPad. 'Hmm, she's one of my regular crew.'

Liv knew she should leave it there. She now knew that Laura was one of his regular crew. That should have been enough information but Liv couldn't help herself. She knew that it was a bad idea to probe any more. She'd regret it but, just like that little spot that you can't help squeezing even though you know you'll end up with a massive boil the next day, she couldn't resist it. The sudden wave of jealously was too strong to ignore. She felt hot and a bit sick at the sight of Laura's hand on him. Her heart was pounding fast. Even though there were much bigger things to worry about at this precise moment and she was ashamed for asking, she had to know.

'Have you slept with her?' she blurted out. She noticed her hands were trembling on the armrests. She quickly slipped them onto her lap, where Benedict couldn't see them.

'What?' He looked up from his iPad again with a frown on concentration.

'Laura,' she hissed, tipping her head in the direction of the door. Liv hoped to God that Laura wasn't straining at the door to hear their conversation. Liv couldn't stand the idea of Laura hearing her being so insecure and pathetic.

'Oh, right. Yeah, a few times.' Then he looked down again and started moving the map around with his fingertip.

Liv was stunned. She'd been expecting him to brush it off as a silly question. Maybe he'd have found her sweet for being so jealous of anyone who paid him attention. She didn't expect him to say yeah, he'd shagged her, oh and yeah, she still worked for him. Liv definitely wasn't comfortable with that scenario. She knew he'd slept with other women, she wasn't stupid, but she just didn't want to meet them. Especially the really attractive ones who served him a coffee with a blow job on the side.

Benedict reached out and grabbed a croissant. 'Want one?' he asked.

She shook her head. The last thing she wanted to do was eat, especially a croissant that bloody Laura had touched with her bloody hand. A hand that had touched parts of Benedict that she'd touched too. Liv let her head fall back against the seat and squeezed her eyes shut to block out that image. I'm rising above the jealousy, she told herself. I'm a mature, calm adult. I'm mindful. Liv forced her mind to focus on each cool breath going up her nose and each warm one coming out but uninvited images kept elbowing their way in. Benedict with his trousers down, Laura on her knees. Benedict and Laura on that bed in the next room, where she'd been just the week before. Laura just in her lingerie and heels stalking across the cabin like a Victoria's Secret model. Liv's eyes snapped open. It was easy for a bloody Buddhist monk to be all zen and mindful, Liv thought. He doesn't have to sit there and be served a bloody croissant by a gorgeous woman who's shagged his boyfriend. More than once. In fact, shagged him 'a few times'. She dug her nails into the soft leather of the arm rests and tried to push down her messy, immature feelings.

Suddenly the plane dipped slightly and the drone from the engines changed.

'We're starting our descent,' Benedict said, putting away the iPad. 'We'll be there soon.' He slid up the blind on the little window next to him. The sun was rising and sending out orange rays across the top of each flawless, fluffy cloud. It should have been a perfect shared moment but they were both too consumed with other things to notice. 
Chapter Twenty-six

Brive airport looked more like a supermarket rather than an international hub. Liv's local Tesco Extra was bigger and more impressive than the squat glass building she could see crouching next to the runway. Judging from the size of its airport, Brive wasn't the most exciting place either. She'd never heard of it but the airport sign told her that it was in the Dordogne. That, she knew, was where nice, middle-class people went for nice, middle class holidays. Liv wished to God that she was going on holiday too. Then she could drink wine and stare at sunflowers instead of tracking down a missing five-year-old girl and her mentally unstable mum.

They were ushered through the empty airport by a crumpled, resentful looking man who'd obviously drawn the short straw that morning and been forced to get out of his warm bed for a private flight. The only other person they saw was an overweight man perched on a tiny ride-on floor cleaning machine. He was steering the machine backwards and forwards in neat lines across the arrivals' floor. He grudgingly stopped to let them pass and watched them ruin his lovely clean floor. When they reached the exit, Liv turned and saw him tiptoeing delicately across the floor in his pristine white sports socks, trying to buff their big footprints off his newly washed floor.

Laurent was waiting with a car right outside the building in the 'strictly no parking zone'. The grim look on his face reminded Liv that she should be ashamed for worrying about Benedict's past shags at a time like this. She slid into the car and resolved to focus on Lola. Benedict fired off some directions in French and then Laurent floored the accelerator, throwing Liv back against her seat. Luckily there was no traffic on the streets. They skirted a town with medieval walls and were out in the countryside in no time.

'I'm going to call Lola's foster parents to see if there's any news,' Benedict said. He scrolled through his phone and hit 'call'.

Liv resisted the urge to close her eyes. She was so tired and desperately wanted to sleep but they weren't far now. She couldn't be dozing when they got there. To keep herself awake, she looked out of the window. The countryside wasn't impressive but it was definitely pretty in a fairy tale kind of way. It was green, hilly and dotted with villages. As they sped past the houses, Liv thought of all the lucky bastards inside, asleep in their beds and oblivious to the drama that was unfolding for her.

'Well, that was better than I expected,' Benedict said, laying his phone on the seat next to him.

'What did they say?'

'They haven't come back yet but I'm less worried about Lola. Apparently, Natalie's been really trying hard to sort herself out. She's been to rehab, she's in therapy now and she's been seeing Lola as much as she's allowed to. She always picks her up and drops her back exactly on time. She's desperate to prove that she can be trusted to have Lola back.'

'But that's not what you want, is it?' Liv was confused. 'I thought you wanted to get custody.'

'I do but not at the expense of Lola never seeing her mum again. I started this whole custody thing because Natalie was out of control. She was doing drugs and bringing home strange men. Lola was being neglected and I wanted to take her out of that situation. But the situation's changed now. The latest psychologist's report is really positive about Natalie and reckons she could deal with looking after Lola again.'

The car drew to a slow stop by the side of the road. Benedict peered out of the window at a dirt track that disappeared up into a tangle of trees.

'We're here,' he said, opening the car door on his side and getting out. 'You stay here and wait for me.'

'No, I'm coming too,' said Liv getting out after him.

'I'd prefer you to stay here with Laurent.' His tone was firm.

'I'd prefer to come with you.' Liv wanted to stay in the car too but she knew that this was crunch time. She was here to support him and she wouldn't be a good girlfriend if she sat in the back of the car, looking at Instagram on her phone and waiting for him to come back.

Benedict sighed. 'Ok, but promise me you'll hang back. Let me go in first.'

Liv nodded.

Benedict darted off up the track and Liv did her best to keep up with his big strides. The track was overgrown with tall grass, weeds and, judging by the stings on Liv's bare legs, lots of nettles. From the solid, thick line of flattened stalks running up each side of the track, a car had recently ploughed its way through. Liv looked up to see where they were going but the dense bushes and trees blocked their view. Benedict kept striding ahead and despite her tiredness, Liv found herself motoring up the track too. Nervous energy was pushing her forward. She kept her eye on Benedict's back and didn't let herself think too much. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other otherwise she knew that she'd lose her courage. She wanted to be there for Benedict but really, deep down, she didn't want to see whatever horrors were waiting for them in the house. She fought her instinct to run back to the car and carried on.

The track eventually opened out into a courtyard. A pale stone house with white wooden shutters ran round the two furthest sides of the yard forming a L-shape. Liv felt a pang of relief when she saw that all the shutters and doors were closed. Maybe Nathalie wasn't here after all. Maybe they could get back in the car and go home.

'There's Natalie's car,' whispered Benedict, ruining Liv's little escape fantasy. He pointed to a yellow Beetle parked in front of some garage doors. He looked at his watch. It was just before 6am. 'They should still be in bed. Let's go inside.'

Benedict turned the rusting handle on the front door very slowly with both hands. He grimaced as it let out a long but thankfully low metallic squeak. He pushed the door open and Liv followed him inside. The hallway was cool and dark. She looked around. There were gnarled, wooden beams running across the ceiling and thick, unplastered stone walls. Benedict carefully opened the door to their left. It was the kitchen and, apart from evidence of last night's dinner on the table and in the sink, it was empty. He did the same to their right and found a large open room. The armchairs and sofa were covered in dust sheets. It looked like no one had been in there for a long time. Benedict was about to close the door again when Liv pointed to the terrace doors. She'd initially thought they were closed but a small breeze had lifted the bottom of the flimsy curtains and revealed that one of the doors was open. They tiptoed over to the door and Benedict pulled back the curtain just enough to see outside. There was a trail of toys and blankets leading out across the small patio and onto the lawn. Teddy bears were propped round what looked like a picnic with a tiny china tea set and plastic food set out on plates.

'They're probably upstairs,' Benedict whispered, turning back. 'I'll go and look.'

'No, let's look outside first,' said Liv. 'If the door's open, there's a good chance they're outside.'

They stepped down onto the patio and looked around. It was a big square of grass, as wide as the house, with odd fruit tree dotted here and there. A tall hedge ran round the edges. Both the grass and the hedges were overgrown but Liv could see it would be a great sanctuary to be if you felt scared and alone. As she scanned the garden, a tiny movement caught her eye. She tapped Benedict's arm and pointed. There, behind the thick, twisted trunk of an old apple tree, was the tip of a very small foot. The toes were bare and poking out from under a blanket. In the fidgety way that children have, the foot was wiggling about and bouncing against something. Benedict and Liv crept over to the tree. Liv's heart was pounding so hard that she was surprised that no one else could hear it. It got louder the closer they got to the tree. She could hardly breathe either. Just when she thought her lungs might explode from holding her breath, Benedict put his arm out to stop her going any further. From here they could see Natalie sitting with Lola on her lap. They were sitting on a big wicker garden chair and Natalie had wrapped a big blue and green checked blanket round them. Natalie was reading a book to Lola, who had her head nuzzled into Natalie's chest. Lola had the thumb of one hand in her mouth and her other hand was curled up and round Natalie's neck. The little girl was twirling her mother's hair round her fingers.

This wasn't what Liv was expecting. At best, she thought they might find a crying, snotty child and her wild-eyed mum holed up in the dark house. At the very worst, Liv had imagined a blood bath. But this, this didn't look like a neglected child and her crazy mum. This was something straight out of a perfume advert. A mum and her daughter with the same tussled blonde hair in matching pink gingham pyjamas, snuggled up together reading a book.

'What shall we do?' she whispered.

Benedict took a deep breath. 'Let's talk to them.'

'Are you sure?'

He nodded and walked over calmly, as if they popped in to say 'hi' all the time.

'Hi Lola,' said Benedict.

Lola squealed when saw him and slipped straight off her mum's lap. She ran over to him and launched herself at him for a hug.

Liv looked at Natalie. She looked startled and frozen with fear. Liv noticed how young she was. With her hair down and no make-up on, Natalie looked like a teenager. She had a scattering of light freckles across her perfect upturned nose and her smooth cheeks.

'Have you come to take her?' Natalie asked shakily, closing the book on her lap and resting her trembling hands on top.

'No,' Benedict. 'I was going to but I can't. I can't take her away from you.'

Natalie didn't say anything for a second but then dropped her head into her hands and started to cry.

'What's wrong Mummy?' Lola asked.

Natalie looked up and wiped her face with the corner of the blanket. She was struggling to compose herself. 'Nothing, sweetie,' she said. 'I'm just pleased to see Benedict.'

Lola seemed happy with that answer and turned to Liv. 'Who's that?'

'This is my girlfriend Liv.'

'Do you want to show me your teddy bear's picnic, Lola?' Liv chipped in. 'I'm sure your mum and Benedict would like a chat.'

'Sure,' said Lola, hopping down from Benedict. 'And it's not a picnic. It's a tea party, actually.'

Liv raised her eyebrows at Benedict and then followed Lola.

After a while, Liv didn't know how long, Benedict came to sit next to her on the blanket. Liv was sitting between Lola's favourite teddies pretending to drink hot chocolate out of a tiny china cup. It was so small that she couldn't even hook her fingers through the miniscule handle. If Lola was at all thrown by the events of the last day, Liv would never have guessed it. She seemed engrossed in her imaginary game and oblivious to everything else.

'What are we drinking, Lola?' Benedict asked.

'Hot chocolate,' she answered, concentrating on stirring a teaspoon inside the teapot. 'Can I have some?'

Lola picked up another thimble sized cup and handed it to him. 'Don't drink it all. You need to leave some for Minnie.' She pointed to the large toy mouse. It was almost as big as Lola.

Natalie came over.

'Lola, why don't you come and have some breakfast with me?' She held out her hand.

'Do I have to? Minnie hasn't had any hot chocolate yet.'

'We'll give Minnie her drink and then we'll come inside in a minute,' Benedict told her. 'We're hungry too.'

Lola reluctantly got up and took her mother's hand. Liv and Benedict watched them disappear into the house.

'So,' Liv said nervously. She started picking daisies from the grass and collecting them in her lap.

'So,' Benedict answered.

'Don't be annoying! Tell me what happened.' Liv started to join up the daisies to make a necklace.

'I'm not going to press for custody.'

'Really?' Liv stopped what she was doing and looked at him.

'Yeah, Lola needs to be with her mum.'

'What about the police and everything? Won't she get arrested anyway?'

'Not if we don't tell them.'

Liv was confused. 'But she took Lola away. Isn't that a crime?'

'It is but we can try to explain it if we need to. If I drop my case and we get good reports from the experts, maybe she can get Lola back. With lots of input from professionals. Maybe even a live-in nanny to keep things on track. I'll pay for that.'

'Right,' said Liv slowly, digesting this new information. 'Did you find out why she did it? What made her risk everything?'

Benedict breathed out slowly. 'Today's the anniversary of Dad's death. She wanted to spend it with Lola. She was worried that it was the last one they might get to spend together for a while. She asked to have her access moved from yesterday to today but she wasn't allowed to, even though she asked the social workers and her lawyer to sort it out months ago. The judge said it would upset Lola to have the day changed. When Natalie heard that, she just snapped. I don't blame her really. Lola wouldn't have minded either way. She's too young to notice whether she sees her mum on a Saturday or a Sunday.'

'That's ridiculous. Are you sure about dropping your case, though? I thought having Lola living with you was really important.'

'It was. It still is but I can't keep Lola from her mum. She's already lost her dad. And I promised Dad I'd look after them, not split them up.'

Liv knew what he'd left unsaid. That he'd been left by his own mother and it had hurt him more than he could say. It still hurt him now, almost thirty years later. It'd stopped him from having any meaningful relationship with anyone. He didn't want to be the one to inflict the same thing on Lola, even though she was his last chance to bring up a child related to him by blood.

'You're making a massive sacrifice, you know,' Liv said finally. 'I know you really want a family.'

'But I've got a family now,' he answered turning to her. 'I've got you.'

She smiled. 'But we're not connected in the same way. She's your sister, I'm just your girlfriend.'

'That's where you're wrong. You're not just my girlfriend.' He reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He flipped it open and unzipped the tiniest compartment. 'I was going to wait until this was all over but I can't after this morning.' He tipped out two rings in his palm and held them out. 'This my grandmother's last engagement ring.' He picked up the bigger of the two and handed it to her.

'Last?' asked Liv. She took the ring and looked at it. It was a huge, square diamond surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds. Little diamonds also studded the band the whole way round. The whole thing sparkled madly in the bright sunlight.

'My grandfather first met her when she was 15 and he was 19. He came over to England to learn English one summer and stayed with her family. Grandpa says it was love at first sight for him but he didn't say anything at the time as she was so young. When he went back to Paris, he wrote her a long letter telling her how he felt. He promised to wait for her, until she was 18. She wrote back to say that she really wanted him to wait and so they started sending letters to each other. When she was eighteen, Grandpa came over to England and arranged to take her out for dinner for her birthday. That was in June and they got married in December. They were married for over sixty years until Grandpa died. Every ten years, Grandpa bought her a new engagement ring to celebrate. This is the last one he bought.'

Liv spotted some words engraved inside the band that were too small to read. 'What does it say?'

' "more than anyone on the earth" ' It's a quote from her favourite poem. She sent it to him in one of her letters. Then he read it out at their wedding.'

Liv picked up the other ring. The eternity ring, a band of glittering diamonds, also had words engraved in it. 'And what does this one say?'

' "and more than everything in the sky".' He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. ''I love you much (most beautiful darling) more than anyone on the earth and I like you better than everything in the sky",' he read out loud. Then he slowly folded the piece of paper up again and slipped it back into his pocket. Then he looked at Liv. 'It's a poem by ee cummings. It says everything I feel about you. You're my favourite person in the whole world. I fell in love with you at first sight and I want to be married to you for as long as I can be. Sixty years wouldn't be long enough.'

Liv was too stunned to speak. She'd expected all kinds of things to happen when she got to the top of this hill but this definitely wasn't one of them. It was lucky she was sitting down as the morning's twists and turns were making her head spin.

'Are you going to say anything?' he asked, looking at her expectantly.

Liv opened her mouth to speak but realised she had nothing to say. She closed it again and tried to focus. 'I can't find any words,' she said finally. 'In a good way. I'm just really surprised.'

'But do you love me?'

Liv paused and looked at the rings in her hands. They weighed almost nothing and yet they were weighted with all the love that had knitted two people together for more than sixty years. Liv looked up again and spoke. 'I do love you. I love you more than anyone on the earth and everything in the sky.'

A huge smile spread across Benedict's face. 'So will you marry me?'

'Of course I'll marry you.' Liv smiled back.

He slid the ring onto her finger. They watched the sun turn the diamond into a million little rainbows.

He got up and held out his hand. 'Let's go and show Lola.'

THE END
If you enjoyed More Than Everything, then read the next instalment of Benedict and Liv's story in More Than Enough available on Amazon: cutt.ly/1r8hIfj

And it would be great if you could leave a review so that other people can find out about Liv and Benedict too. <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40014405-more-than-everything>

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About the Author

Delphie Gray worked in TV before she began writing professionally. She lives in London with her husband and two children.

Follow her on Twitter @delphiegray1
