Jennifer's stomach flipped. 'I know what you mean, Ben. I feel as if I've known you all my life.' Suddenly shy, she broke eye contact, afraid she had revealed too much of her feelings for him. Feelings that she feared would not be reciprocated. What if he only wanted to be friends? 'Well, let's get to work, shall we?' she said briskly.

He was an easy customer to please and fifty minutes later, they'd chosen all the living room furniture, curtains and accessories plus a blind and bar stools for the kitchen. Ben threw himself onto an L-shaped grey sofa, his lanky legs stretched out before him, and said, 'Enough! I can't take any more.'

Jennifer giggled. Choosing furniture with David, who had rarely let her have her way in anything, had never been this much fun. Ben, in contrast, seemed more than happy to let her choose everything.

Ben rolled his eyes. 'How do you do this, day in and day out?'

'It's fun! That's why. Come on, lazybones.' She grinned, picked up a nearby brochure and whacked him on the leg but he did not move. He only smiled, rested his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes.

She watched his eyes flicker under pale blue, thin eyelids, and his chest rise and fall gently beneath the thick coat. She longed to lean over and kiss him, to touch the hard line of his jaw and the dark stubble that already, so early in the morning, shadowed his cheeks. She wondered what his mouth would taste like.

He yawned, his eyes still closed.

'Busy weekend?' she said.

'Work. Not much else. You?'

Jennifer recalled the events of Sat.u.r.day and sighed. 'Lucy and her new boyfriend were supposed to come for the weekend and stay over, but in the end they only came for lunch.' She paused, the disappointment catching her by surprise, and ran a hand through her hair. 'His name's Oren Wilson. He says you two went to school together.'

Ben sat up, opened his eyes and his face clouded. 'Oren Wilson from Enniskillen? Farmer's son?'

'That's the one,' said Jennifer, leaning forward, keen to hear Ben's opinion of the man.

'His family own half of County Fermanagh.'

'I was wondering how he could afford to fund a second degree,' mused Jennifer. 'So, were you friends at school?'

Ben shook his head and was quiet for a few moments, staring off into the distance, his hands clasped loosely between his legs. When he spoke he was uncharacteristically stony-faced, though no less handsome. 'Oren Wilson was a troublemaker at school and a bully. I didn't have much to do with him. He wasn't well liked.'

'Oh,' said Jennifer faintly. This was not what she had hoped to hear.

'But,' he added, hastily, seeing the dismay on Jennifer's face, 'maybe he's changed.'

'I didn't like him,' said Jennifer sadly, 'though I really wanted to, for Lucy's sake.' She paused, looked into Ben's eyes, and knew that what she said next would go no further. 'I thought he was arrogant and over-confident. And I felt uncomfortable with his evangelicalism. It seems to me that he's determined not only to save Lucy, not that she's putting up any resistance, but the rest of the world as well. That sounds awful, doesn't it?' She put her face in her hands momentarily, then looked up again. 'I'm not against Christianity I just don't like it being rammed down my throat along with a hefty dose of self-satisfied morality by someone like Oren Wilson.' She let out a sigh, glad to have gotten that off her chest.

Ben frowned. 'Oren Wilson wasn't a Christian when I knew him. In fact, quite the opposite. He got expelled for smuggling vodka into school in fifth year, mixing it with blackcurrant cordial and forcing a first year to drink it. The wee fella had to be taken to hospital with alcohol poisoning. It d.a.m.n near killed him. Oren thought it was funny.'

'What an awful thing to do,' said Jennifer, appalled.

'Yeah, well,' said Ben looking at his hands. 'Oren never forgave me for that.'

'For what?'

'I called the ambulance when I found the wee lad lying in the toilets and reported Oren to the housemaster. He was expelled and went back to Enniskillen to do his A-levels. I brushed shoulders with him once or twice at Queen's when he was doing Law. I haven't seen him since we graduated.'

'Well, he's studying for a Theology degree now. He must've had a religious conversion.'

Ben gave his head a little twist to the left and said sceptically, 'He must be a changed man indeed.'

'I hope so,' said Jennifer, and she bit her bottom lip. 'Oh, Ben, I'm really worried for Lucy. She's completely besotted with him.' She looked away and struggled for a few moments, torn between loyalty to her daughter and the truth. In the end she settled for the latter and, addressing the toe of her boot, said, 'I don't know how to put this without sounding like a heartless mother but Lucy's never had a boyfriend before. I think she's just grateful to Oren for paying her attention. And I can see what attracts him Lucy's vulnerable and open to influence. Just the sort of girl who'll put him on a pedestal. She'd do anything for him.'

Ben looked at his hands, and sounding more hopeful than convinced, said, 'Well, it's over ten years since I had anything to do with him and he might well have changed. Who knows? Maybe he does genuinely care for Lucy, Jennifer. We might both be completely wrong about him.'

'I hope so,' said Jennifer, without much a.s.surance. Her gut instinct had served her well over the years. And just as she got bad vibes from Oren, she got very good ones from Ben. But it wasn't fair to burden him with her family worries. 'I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you all this, especially here. But it's good to talk to you about it. The only other person I feel I can talk to is Donna. We're going away for a weekend together soon. I'll see what she makes of it all.' She glanced around the empty s.p.a.ce, stood up and added brightly, 'We're not going to get your flat furnished sitting around chatting, are we? Come on, what's next?'

'The bedroom.' He gave her a sultry glance, his dark eyebrows rising infinitesimally. Jennifer blushed like a schoolgirl.

'Ahem ... that'll be upstairs then,' she mumbled, and at a brisk pace, led the way up a set of industrial metal stairs in the corner of the building, wishing that she could retain a bit of composure in his presence.

At the top of the stairs, the first thing she came to was the bed department. Jennifer tested the springs of a nearby double divan bed with the palm of her hand and said, 'You'll need a bed of course.'

'We have to test it properly,' grinned Ben.

Jennifer looked at the bed, then back at Ben, imagining what it would feel like lying on the clear plastic dust cover beside him.

'Come on,' he cried out, and suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the bed with him. They landed on the soft mattress in a tangle, Jennifer's heart pounding, her jean-clad leg wrapped around his. His legs were strong and hard against her soft flesh; her arm, trapped between their chests, pressed against warm, firm muscle. Quickly, she extricated herself and rolled, laughing, onto her back. They lay side by side staring at the ceiling, a tangle of dusty pipes and exposed silvery air ducts. She blinked and giggled nervously.

Ben rolled onto his side, rested his head on his elbow and looked down at her. 'What do you think?'

'It's a bit soft,' she said, hoping that her foundation, slapped on in a hurry that morning, was living up to its promise of 'ageless perfection'. She hoped too that the harsh showroom lighting didn't show up the lines around her eyes and the deep rift between her brows.

'Oh, no it's not,' he said suggestively and, as soon as she clocked his double meaning, she blushed furiously.

Ben, grinning playfully, rocked his body so that she inched closer to him, and she laughed as much out of nerves as at the sensation. And then she found herself right up against him, his face hovering inches above her own. He smelt of oranges and fresh laundry and, underneath those wholesome smells, she detected the faint tantalising whiff of musky male pheromones. She breathed in and held her breath. She watched his black pupils dilate; his breathing became shallow. She could see the intent in his eyes and smell the want on his hot, sweet breath. She realised that he was going to kiss her and her body arched involuntarily in response. She closed her eyes.

And then, suddenly, she came to her senses. She opened her eyes and let out a little gasp. Wriggling out from underneath Ben, she sat upright on the edge of the bed with her back to him. What was she doing?

This moment was what she'd dreamed of. And now that it was here she realised that it was all wrong.

He came and sat beside her on the edge of the mattress. 'Jennifer, look at me.'

She obeyed, sheepishly, and he took both her hands gently in his. He stared deep into her eyes and her heart pounded like a drum. 'Can you tell me what's going on, please? Because I got the very distinct impression that you liked me. I wasn't imagining it, was I?'

'No,' she squeaked.

'So why are you now giving me the cold shoulder?'

She shrugged helplessly and looked away. 'I'm sorry. You don't deserve to be mucked around like this. I do like you, Ben. I like you very much. It's just that ...' Her voice trailed off and she pulled her hands away.

He folded his arms. 'What?'

She took a big gulp of air and blurted out, 'Well, there's an awfully big age gap between us. Do you realise that I'm forty-four?'

He shrugged. 'I'd worked it out.'

'And I've two grown-up children, one of whom is only eight years younger than you.'

Another shrug. 'So?'

'And I ...' She glanced around the sea of beds, searching for inspiration. A brochure lay on a nearby bedside table. On the front a middle-aged woman sat reading in bed, gla.s.ses perched on the end of her nose. 'I wear gla.s.ses because of age-related deterioration in my eyes.'

'I think you look very attractive in gla.s.ses,' he smiled. 'Miss Moneypenny meets school secretary.'

'You're not taking me seriously,' she said as his eyes wandered down her legs.

He lowered his voice and met her gaze again. 'I am. I'm taking you very seriously.'

'So, let me get this straight. You're telling me that my age doesn't put you off?' she said incredulously.

He shook his head. 'Nope.'

'Well, it puts me off,' she said. 'I don't want people to think I'm your mother.'

'Oh, don't be ridiculous, Jennifer,' he said sharply and there was a flash of anger in his eyes. 'Lots of men date older women. And what does age matter anyway, if two people like each other? What does it matter what other people think?' He paused, his Adam's apple moving up and down and his voice was low and husky. 'I've never met anyone like you, Jennifer. I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you.' He placed a hand on her thigh and gave it a hard squeeze, sending a wave of desire up her leg. 'You are absolutely gorgeous.'

Jennifer blinked, her head reeling with disbelief and delight. Momentarily stunned by this declaration, she struggled to keep a hold on reality. She must make Ben understand why a relationship between them would not work, even though she desired it with all her heart.

'My kids won't approve, Ben. Nor my father. You happened to crop up in conversation and they were only too happy to tell me how disgusting the idea was of me dating a younger man.'

'They've no right to tell you what to do, Jennifer,' he said crossly. 'And truthfully, is it any of their business? You're a free woman, you can do what you please.'

'Why does it not feel like it then?' she said sadly.

'Because you're used to pleasing other people all the time. That's what mothers do, isn't it? But your kids are adults now. It's time for them to get on with their lives and you to get on with yours. Are you going to let them dictate who you go out with and who you don't?'

She shook her head. Put like that, it did sound a bit pathetic.

'And isn't Matt moving into his own flat soon?'

'So he says.' Jennifer had surprised herself with her calm acceptance of this news, delivered only the other night by Matt. She contented herself with the knowledge that he was very lucky to have found a good job locally and his new home was only down the road. It was time to let go of the ap.r.o.n strings for his sake, and for hers.

'Well, there you go. Lucy's making her own way in life too by the sounds of it and I bet your father would come round to the idea eventually.'

'But your family won't approve either,' she said, recalling Alan's frosty reception.

'Hang them all!' he cried. 'You've not presented one valid reason why we shouldn't go out, fall in love and get married even, if that's what we both want.' He grabbed her hands again and squeezed them and staring into her eyes with a sort of tender fury, he said, 'Answer me one thing and one thing only.'

'Okay,' she said solemnly, her eyes locked with his.

'Do you think that you could love me?'

'I'm certain of it,' she said without hesitation, without blinking, happiness folding round her heart like a soft blanket, m.u.f.fling the objections clamouring for attention in her brain.

'I'm certain too, my darling,' he said.

The corners of her mouth turned up in a delighted smile. No one had ever called her 'my darling'. It sounded so tender, and romantic, to her ears.

He leaned towards her and their lips met in a sensuous kiss. And something in Jennifer stirred, a part of her that David had never touched nor the men that had followed him. And she wondered at her stupidity in very nearly letting him slip through her fingers.

Chapter 12.

Donna, at the wheel of her luxurious Saab, turned the Madeleine Peyroux CD down and the heating up. Outside, dusk was falling and the wipers glided soundlessly across the windscreen, erasing the fine, cold rain that had fallen all day. 'I started my Christmas shopping this morning,' she said cheerfully, and went on to list what she had bought and for whom.

Jennifer, in the pa.s.senger seat, surrounded by the smell of new plastic and leather soft as a baby's bottom, felt a fleeting sense of panic. Christmas was only weeks away and she'd done nothing. But she thought, relaxing again, she had much more important things on her mind than Christmas shopping. She closed her eyes. The heat in the car, and the swish-swish sound of the wipers made her drowsy. She found it hard to concentrate on what Donna was saying her mind drifted.

'Are you listening to a word I'm saying?' demanded Donna, and only then did Jennifer notice that they were already heading south on the A8 towards Belfast. They were on their way to the upmarket Ballykillen cookery school, in the grounds of a castle on the sh.o.r.es of Loch Erne in Fermanagh, a county famous for its beautiful lakes. The trip was Donna's birthday present to her.

'Sorry. I was thinking about the restaurant,' she said, a half-truth. Because while one part of her brain was thinking about the logistics of the Carnegie project, the other was full of Ben Crawford and her heart-to-heart with him in Hilary's. She would forever think of that prefab warehouse as the most romantic place on earth.

'Now,' chided Donna, 'the whole point of a weekend away is to forget about work.'

'I'll try.' Jennifer smiled secretly to herself, knowing that she would not succeed. Work, for the time being anyway, was intrinsically linked to Ben Crawford and she couldn't but think about him every minute of the day.

Donna, misunderstanding the cause of Jennifer's preoccupation, let out a resigned sigh and said, 'Well, go on. You might as well tell me how the job's going.'

Jennifer filled her in on the Carnegie project and voiced a reservation. 'I've introduced a few jazzy elements just to bring it into the twenty-first century cowhide rugs, some funky chandeliers and lampstands, quirky prints. I know it sounds odd, mixing traditional and modern, but I really think it'll work. I just hope Ben and his Dad like it.'

'Course they will,' said Donna confidently.

'I hope so,' said Jennifer and, steering the conversation away from Ben, added, 'Did I tell you Matt's got a room in a house lined up? He moves in next week.'

Donna glanced over in astonishment. 'You're taking that news remarkably calmly. I thought you were dreading it.'

'I was,' responded Jennifer, thoughtfully. 'I guess I've had time to get used to the idea.'

Donna chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully for a few seconds and then said, 'Well, it'll do him good to fend for himself.'

'Yeah, it will.' Jennifer coloured and looked out the window, though it was now pitch black outside and there was nothing to see. It was time for changes in her life too.

'So, tell me about Lucy's new man,' said Donna, overtaking a van. 'You said on the phone the other night that the visit hadn't gone well.'

'Hmm,' said Jennifer thoughtfully, running over the events of that wretched weekend in her mind. She pulled the neck of her coat tight, suddenly chilled by the memory. 'It was a disaster. And now Lucy's saying she doesn't want to come home for the Christmas holidays.'

'Really?'

'She's talking about spending Christmas with Oren's family where we're headed right now. They have a farm somewhere down Fermanagh way.'

Donna's head snapped round. 'That's not at all like Lucy. What's got into her?'

Jennifer sighed. 'We had words.'