Forget Her Name(68)

‘Ouch.’

‘Yeah, better watch out,’ Dominic says wryly. ‘Even kittens have sharp claws. He’s not used to you yet. Or this house.’

‘Well, he’s only a kitten.’

‘Nine weeks old.’

‘But where did you—’

‘Sally’s cat had a litter back in the autumn. I put first dibs on this one, soon as I saw him. Totally black.’

‘Like a witch’s cat.’

‘Exactly.’

I pretend to punch him, and he grins.

‘He can be your familiar,’ Dominic says, and laughs when I make a face. ‘Look, I know looking after a pet is a big responsibility.’

‘Too right. I haven’t the faintest idea where to begin.’

‘I don’t want you to worry about anything. Sally’s given me a diet sheet for the first month, and instructions on how to look after him. He’s not quite house-trained yet, she says.’ He grimaces. ‘Which didn’t exactly please Ellen. But I promised her we’d clean up any accidents.’

‘Of course we will.’

He searches my face. ‘So you like?’

‘Hugely.’

‘Because I wasn’t sure . . .’

‘It’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever had.’

Dominic holds my gaze like a thread between us. ‘Seriously?’

‘Totally.’

He covers his face with his hands.

I frown, watching him. ‘Hey, what’s the matter? You okay?’

His hands drop from his face and he looks back at me with a curious intensity. His eyes are shiny with unshed tears. ‘I don’t know what to say. Except . . . you make me happy.’

‘You’re so sweet, Dom.’

I put my arms around him, and lean my head against his shoulder.

For a moment I’m tempted to tell him about the notebook. But some inner voice of caution warns me against it. Not until I’ve had a chance to examine it. I mean, what if there’s something in the notebook about me? Something embarrassing? Something that might make him think differently about me? I don’t think I could bear that.

So instead I whisper softly, ‘Thank you for getting me the perfect present.’

‘The purr-fect present?’

I chuckle, my head still nestled against him. ‘I love you so much, darling. Even if you do crack some truly appalling jokes sometimes.’

He laughs too, and cuddles me in his arms, strong as an oak.

‘Hey.’ I draw back to stare at him. ‘How are you at home, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be working at St Hilda’s tonight?’

‘Surprise.’ Dominic tips his head to one side, his smile charming and apologetic at the same time. ‘I told you a little porky, sorry. I’m down to work tomorrow, not tonight. I had to pretend I was going out to work or you would have wanted to know where I was going when I went to collect His Nibbs there.’ His eyes crinkle up at the edges as he smiles. ‘And that would have spoilt the surprise.’

I glance back at the cat, who is busy playing with the tassels on one of Mum’s pine-chair cushion covers.

‘Dom, did you ever bring him here before?’

‘No, why?’

‘Because I heard a cat just before I fell down the cellar steps, remember?’ I feel his sudden stillness and bite my lip, wishing I hadn’t said anything. I try to cover the awkwardness with a casual shrug. ‘Anyway, it’s not important. I could have sworn I heard a cat that day, that’s all.’

He’s still got that charming smile on his face, though it looks forced now.

Does he think I’m crazy?

‘I probably imagined hearing a cat,’ I add.

‘Right,’ Dominic says, but doesn’t pursue it. He leans forward and kisses me hungrily on the lips instead. ‘You know the best bit about me not being at work tonight?’

I raise my eyebrows, smiling.

‘I get to take my wife to bed early,’ he whispers in my ear, ‘and make as much damn noise as I like, because everyone else is at that party next door.’





Chapter Forty-One

On Boxing Day morning, still smiling about Dominic’s unexpected gift, I have a lazy breakfast of fruit and yoghurt, then politely decline to go out shopping with my mum and dad.

‘But, darling, the sales will be on,’ my mother says.

‘All the more reason to stay home,’ I say firmly. ‘I can’t afford to spend money on anything. Even reduced stuff. Honestly, you know Dom and I are saving for a deposit on a place of our own.’

‘Your father will help you out with a deposit. Won’t you, Robert?’ Mum smiles at him.

Dad has been reading The Times over breakfast, but lowers it now to nod at me. ‘Of course.’

‘And that’s very generous of you, Dad. But you know how Dominic feels about that. He’s proud, he doesn’t want charity.’

‘It’s not charity when it’s your own parents,’ Mum says.

‘Well, he doesn’t like the idea.’ I flash her a brittle smile. She means well but she doesn’t understand. ‘Maybe I’ll shop online instead. There are always great bargains this time of year.’