Susan looked doubtful. 'An allotment? Do they let women have them?'

He laughed. 'Of course they do. Why not? The only people who are not allowed are those who have a bad track record for neglect.'

Susan sipped her drink thoughtfully. 'How big would it be? I'm not sure I could manage on my own.'

'You wouldn't be on your own. As I said, the plot is next to mine so I'd always be there to help you out.' He paused. 'Look, sorry if I'm going too fast for you. Maybe I'm being presumptuous taking too much for granted. If you hate the idea just say. It was only a thought.'

He looked so embarra.s.sed that Susan reached out an involuntary hand to pat his arm. 'No, no, it's a lovely idea and so kind of you to think of me.' She sat back with a smile. 'Just fancy, home-grown organic vegetables. I could keep Karen supplied and still have lots left over.'

'You could.' Very softly he placed his hand over hers on his sleeve. 'And there's a farmers' market every other week in town. If we get a glut, some of us club together and rent a stall. It's great fun and quite profitable too.'

'It sounds it.' Susan felt her cheeks flush and she didn't know whether it was the gin and tonic, the heat of the fire, or the warm feel of Ted's hand on hers. Then a thought suddenly occurred to her. 'Oh, but where are these allotments? Could I get there easily? And what about gardening tools? I mean, I did have some when I had a garden before but I gave them to Karen and Simon.'

'You could always ask for them back,' he said, his eyes twinkling. 'I have a lock-up shed on my allotment and you could keep your tools in there with mine.' He took a drink of his beer. 'As for getting there it's only fifteen minutes in the car; you could come with me.'

She smiled tentatively. 'How can I refuse?'

'Of course you can refuse!' His smile vanished. 'Please don't feel obliged to agree if you don't like the idea. I'd hate to bulldoze you into it.'

'You've given it so much thought.'

He gave her a wry grin. 'To be honest I've thought of little else.' He looked away. 'It's been a bit of a pipe dream. Meg and I never had children and although I've been on my own for five years I still can't get used to my own company.' He turned to look at her. 'I don't make friends easily. When I started the Green Fingers Club I thought I might meet some like-minded folk and I have, but they come in couples or pairs of friends and anyway, there isn't anyone who I'd say was on the same wavelength as me.' He raised an eyebrow at her. 'Does that make sense or does it make me sound stuffy and difficult?'

Susan shook her head. 'Of course it makes sense. I know what it is to be widowed and like you, I've never been someone who's happy as part of a group. I prefer one-to-one friendships.'

'Somehow I knew that instinctively. But there is a big difference. You have a family.'

'That's true.' On impulse she asked, 'Ted, what are you doing for Christmas?'

He shrugged. 'Sitting in front of the box and wishing it was spring.'

'Then come with me to Karen and Simon's for Christmas Day?' she invited.

'Oh, I couldn't impose on people I don't even know.'

'You wouldn't be imposing, and you'd soon get to know them. I always contribute my share of the food and I help with the cooking; we all muck in. You'd be very welcome and I'd like you to meet my family.' She took in his hesitant expression. 'But it's only an idea. Don't say yes just because I've asked you.'

He smiled. 'I'd love to come. Thank you.'

'Really, Mum! Who is this old man and what on earth made you invite him without asking me first?'

Susan was shocked by Karen's reaction. 'To start with, he's not an old man; he's about the same age as me. He's on his own and he's lonely. I had no idea you'd be put out about it. One more can't make all that difference.'

'It could be very awkward, having some stranger in the house,' Karen said. 'Christmas is a family occasion after all.'

'What happened to goodwill to all men? And anyway, what about Adrey? She's not family.'

'That's different. She's away from her own family for the first time and I want to make it special for her. I've asked some of the neighbours for pre-lunch drinks so that she can get to know them.'

'I wanted to make it special for Ted too. He's been on his own for five years and he's terribly lonely.'

'That's hardly my problem. Anyway, what do you know about this Ted person? You want to be careful, Mum, picking up strange men on the bus. He could be some kind of conman.'

'Well, he's not!' Susan bristled. 'And I didn't pick him up as you so delicately put it. I haven't lived as long as I have without being able to tell a genuine person from a crook. And if he's not welcome then I'm not coming either.'

Karen looked shocked. 'Oh really, Mum! Don't be so ridiculous.'

'I never ask you to do anything for me, Karen,' Susan said as she marched down the hall. 'But if you can be mean-minded enough to turn down a lonely person at Christmas, then you're not the daughter I thought you were.'

'Mum wait!' Karen caught up with Susan at the front door and took her arm. 'Please, don't go like this. Bring your friend, Ted, if you like. I'm sorry I was snappy. It's just that there's so much to do, what with shopping cards and presents and everything at home and all that's going on at school. You know how stressful Christmas is ...'

'I don't want you to wear yourself out on my account.' Susan firmly detached her arm from Karen's grasp. 'We'll be fine. I'll invite Ted to spend Christmas with me at the flat and you can concentrate on making it a special Christmas for your Dutch au pair and the neighbours.'

'So, I hope you don't mind, Ted, but I thought we'd have Christmas Day on our own at my flat,' Susan said when she rang Ted the next morning.

There was a slight hesitation at the other end of the line. 'Susan my dear, I hope you're not giving up the day with your family on my account.'

'Not at all,' she a.s.sured him. 'When I thought about it I realized that it might all be a bit overwhelming for you. They're having friends in for the evening and I know you don't like crowds of strange people. I don't know any of them so I'm not very keen either.'

'You're absolutely certain about this?'

'Absolutely.'

'Well, if you really are, then the answer is a resounding yes. As a matter of fact the prospect of it just being the two of us is very pleasing,' he said. 'It'll be an opportunity to get to know one another better.'

'Yes, it will.' Susan smiled, feeling a little flutter of antic.i.p.ation. It was so long since she had planned a Christmas of her own. 'Right, then,' she said. 'I'd better get down to the super-market before the last-minute rush starts.'

'Do you mind if I come with you?' Ted said. 'I absolutely insist on sharing all the expense with you.'

'There's no need, but it would be lovely to have your company,' Susan said. 'Then I won't have to guess what you like and don't like to eat.'

'And on the day I insist on helping,' he said. 'I'm a dab hand with Brussels sprouts.'

Susan smiled to herself, serene in the knowledge that she had made the right decision.

Chapter Nine.

Mark was waiting for me as I stepped off the train, laden with bags of shopping.

'Wow!' he exclaimed as he took a couple of them from me. 'Looks as if you've bought enough to feed an army. It must have cost you a fortune. Come on, I've brought the car.'

'You've got a car?' I said, following him into the street.

'Of course. I don't use it for going up to town too difficult to park but I do like it for holidays and days out and so on.'

The car turned out to be a Ferrari sleek, black and shiny, and Mark's apartment was in a smart block of luxury flats built conveniently handy for the main shopping centre and the Underground station. Mark drove into the bas.e.m.e.nt car park where he had his own numbered s.p.a.ce, and then whisked me up to the penthouse apartment in the fastest lift I'd ever experienced.

The apartment was gorgeous, even more lavish than Paul's. The kitchen had every modern convenience. The furnishings were a little old-fashioned maybe, but I had to remind myself that an elderly man had lived here and Mark clearly hadn't updated anything.

The large living room had ma.s.sive sliding doors, leading out onto a s.p.a.cious balcony, and I stood in the middle of the room and spread out my arms.

'Oh, Mark, it's lovely. I have to say, you certainly fell on your feet, inheriting all this.'

He smiled. 'It is rather nice, isn't it? I suppose I really ought to change things round a bit bring it up to date but it always feels like too much ha.s.sle. What do they say if it ain't broke, don't fix it?'

'Well, there's nothing broke about this place.' I kicked off my shoes and threw myself onto the enormous corner settee. 'I'm surprised you can ever tear yourself away from all this to go on tour.' I sat up and looked at him. 'Er what are the arrangements where do I sleep?'

He laughed. 'Don't tempt me. Seriously, there are two bedrooms so you can take your pick. They both have their own en suite so we won't b.u.mp into each other in the nude first thing in the morning.' He grinned impishly. 'More's the pity!'

'In your dreams!' I said, laughing as I got up and followed him to the spare bedroom. Like the rest of the apartment, it was luxurious but I hazarded a guess that I wouldn't be staying in it for long.

I made spag bol for supper the only dish I can actually cook from scratch and we sat and ate it at the kitchen table. I'd hastily unpacked all the frozen Christmas fare I'd stocked up with at the supermarket and hidden them in Mark's ma.s.sive freezer when he wasn't looking. The turkey was already defrosted (at least I know that much) and I slipped it onto a large serving dish and put it in the fridge. Luckily there was plenty of room. All it contained was a pint of milk and some cans of beer. Obviously Mark was no Gordon Ramsay and I guessed that he existed mainly on takeaways.

After clearing his plate, Mark leaned back in his chair and took a sip of the wine he had produced from a well-stocked wine rack. At least he didn't stint himself on that. 'That was delicious,' he said with satisfaction. 'This is really great. How long can you stay?'

'I think you could have timed that question a little more tactfully,' I told him.

He laughed. 'You know what I mean. Who would have thought a week ago that I'd be sitting here, looking forward to spending Christmas with the love of my life I'd given up hope of ever seeing again.' He drained his gla.s.s and refilled it, holding the bottle enquiringly towards my empty gla.s.s.

'Yes, please.' I took an appreciative sip. 'You're right. We never know what's round the corner, do we?'

'So how long can you stay?'

Quickly, I calculated. Di was away till the day after Boxing Day. I'd give her a day to feel flat and miss me. 'Four days,' I said. 'That is if you can put up with me for that long.'

'I can put up with you for as long as you like,' he said.

'You might not be saying that a few days from now,' I warned him. 'You're still wearing those rose-coloured gla.s.ses you wore twenty years ago.'

'And very comfy they are too,' he said, holding up his gla.s.s. 'Here's to our meeting again and to our renewed acquaintance.'

'And to the new show.' I touched my gla.s.s to his. 'To it being a hit!'

Suddenly Mark was serious. 'About the show,' he said, putting his gla.s.s down. 'Isn't it usual for a show like this heading for a West End theatre to be backed by a consortium of people; you know, impresarios?'

'It will be,' I told him. 'Paul said that borrowing money from us to get off the ground is only temporary. He'd got someone lined up. And it's only been difficult because he hasn't booked a star attraction for the lead role.'

'OK, but where's the director?'

'He's been searching for the right person,' I explained. 'He has a really big-name guy interested.'

'Oh, yes who?'

'He didn't tell me.'

'Well, I hope you're right.'

'I'm sure everything is in place,' I a.s.sured him. 'Harry Clay, my agent, is in on the whole thing. I've been with him for years and I trust him.'

Mark took a reflective drink of his wine. 'I was invited up to his flat to audition me for the part,' he said. 'My agent was as surprised as me. He Paul showed me the sketches for the sets; very impressive. He said they were already being built up in Yorkshire somewhere. After that we had tea and cakes and he asked me for money.'

'It was similar for me,' I told him. 'Although he'd already seen me in a show, I was in back in the summer. At his flat he played some of the songs for me and I sang one or two.'

'Then you had tea and he asked you for money?'

'Well yes.'

'Are you with me in wondering if it's all completely kosher?'

'No. I told you; Harry, my agent, is in on it too. He's very shrewd. He'd never risk his money if he had any doubts and he certainly wouldn't let me be taken for a ride.'

Mark was shaking his head. 'It's all a bit odd,' he said. 'I mean, who's ever heard of Paul Fortune anyway or any of those weirdos we met at the read-through the other day?'

'I told you, there are no big names.'

'Mmm.' He stroked his chin. 'You have to admit, Lou, it's one h.e.l.l of a risk.'

'Well, that's up to Paul, isn't it? It's his risk and he seems confident enough.'

'I hope you're right.' He took a deep breath and smiled. 'Let's not be pessimistic. It's Christmas, you're here with me and tomorrow I'm going to have the first home-cooked Christmas dinner I've had in years with my first love cooking it for me.' He raised his gla.s.s. 'Here's to us!'

I clinked my gla.s.s to his. 'To us! And to being optimistic about the show.'

'Absolutely!' Mark said. 'What do I know anyway?'

Later, as I lay in bed surprisingly alone I couldn't help thinking about Mark's words. He was wrong, of course he was; he had to be. Paul had promised to make me a star. Your face will be on the cover of all the magazines, he'd said. He had to be on the level. I couldn't bear it if he wasn't. This was my very last chance.

Christmas dinner was a success as much to my surprise as anyone else's. Though you have to be a complete loser to mess up a frozen, pre-cooked meal. Mark was delighted. If he suspected that it wasn't exactly home-cooked he didn't mention it. His pessimistic mood from the previous night had gone and instead he was on form in the style of the old Mark I remembered so well. After lunch, we watched TV and dozed in front of the realistic living-flame electric fire. After a couple of bottles of champagne, Mark grew amorous and we ended the day in bed together. He'd always been a good lover and he certainly hadn't lost his skills, making me ever so slightly curious about whom he'd been practising on in my absence.

Chapter Ten.

Karen was up early on Christmas morning. Peter had wakened them at six, bouncing on the bed and dragging a pillowcase full of presents.

'Open, Mummy!' he demanded.

Simon groaned and turned over, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as Karen switched on the bedside lamp. 'Take him back to bed, for G.o.d's sake. It's the middle of the night.'