House of the Lost by Sarah Rayne Page B

bonfire, though. You wouldn’t mind a bonfire, would you, Helen?’
    ‘Well . . .’
    ‘Desmond can make his mulled wine and Lesley and I can go into Melbray to order suitable food. Sausages and spare ribs, I think, don’t you? The twins can come with us, it’ll stop them tearing about the house like ruffians.’
    ‘Listen,’ said Theo, managing to draw Charmery out into the hall, ‘if we’re to get any time at all to ourselves it’ll be now while they’re unpacking pumpkins and calculating spare ribs. You only wrote to me once, and your phone was hardly ever switched on when I called. I’ve missed you like grim death for the last seven weeks, in fact it’s felt more like seven years. I’ve been through seven separate kinds of agony.’
    ‘I don’t think there are seven separate kinds of agony,’ she said. She was standing in the deep bay window, staring out at the autumn gardens. The soft light cast a golden radiance over her skin.
    ‘Charmery, come down to the boathouse with me now. I don’t mean for . . . I just want you to myself for half an hour.’
    She turned to look at him thoughtfully. ‘All right.’ The remembered intimacy was in her voice again and she was the Charmery of Theo’s childhood – the cousin he had known since she was born and who was impossibly beautiful and unbearably exciting. ‘But I hope you want a bit more than just being alone,’ she said in a low caressing voice. ‘In fact after seven weeks I hope you want a lot more.’ She reached for his hand and Theo felt as if he had received a 1,000-volt electrical charge.
    They went stealthily across the hall, trying not to make a sound.
    ‘Grab a couple of coats from the hall as we go,’ said Theo.
    ‘It’s almost like being children again,’ said Charmery, doing as he asked.
    ‘Tiptoeing away from the grown-ups, trying not to giggle.’
    ‘I never giggled.’
    ‘Yes, you did. I loved it when you giggled. Only don’t do it now. And mind the squeaky hinge on the garden door.’
    ‘What if somebody sees us?’
    ‘If it’s Nancy she’ll get the shock of her life to see me in this condition.’
    ‘Do her good,’ said Charmery, stifling one of the giggles.
    The boathouse was cool and dim and smelt of autumn. Theo spread out the coats on the planks, then pulled Charmery against him, kissing her and cupping her face between his hands.
    ‘Will we hear if anyone comes down the path?’ she said, when he finally released her.
    ‘I wouldn’t hear if the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse rode through the shrubbery.’ A sudden stab of conscience made him say, ‘Charm, listen, I honestly didn’t mean to steamroller you into anything. We can just be on our own down here and talk.’
    ‘I didn’t trek all the way down here just to talk,’ she said, unbuttoning her coat.
    ‘Yes, but I don’t want this to seem like a . . .’
    ‘Quick casual shag?’
    ‘Well, yes. Although there’s nothing casual about it as far as I’m concerned. You must know how much I love you. You do know, don’t you?’
    ‘Yes, but stop talking about it and demonstrate,’ she said, pulling his mouth down to hers, and Theo was lost to everything in the world save the soaring bliss of being with her again.
    ‘Don’t make the boards creak so much,’ she said, after a moment. ‘Supposing they give way and we go down into the Chet?’
    ‘I don’t care. We’re going to celebrate a pagan festival later, and the pagans didn’t care about creaking planks,’ said Theo. ‘I’ll creak boards and I’ll ford the Chet with all the ferrymen of the world and sail into the sunset with you. I’ll chant pagan spells so that you love me for ever, and leap through bonfires, and—’
    ‘You sound drunk,’ said Charmery, laughing.
    ‘I am. I’m drunk on you. I’d quote poetry to you if I could remember any. Wait a minute . . .’ He foraged in his jacket for the condoms and pushed her back on the folded coats. Her body, when he entered it, felt like