Reaching the kitchen, Isabella filled the electric kettle with water, then plugged it in at the socket next to the toaster. Opening an overhead cupboard, she retrieved a chamomile teabag and dropped it into her favourite patterned pottery mug. ‘Tea or coffee?’ she asked her friend.
‘Neither, thanks. I had a coffee just before you got back and I really should go home, to be honest. I’ve got to be up early to open the nursery at eight.’
‘Okay …but like I was saying …’ Isabella folded her arms across the black ribbed sweater she wore with her red corduroy skirt, a slight frown between her dark brows ‘ …the film wasn’t coming from the intellect at all …It was coming from the heart.’
Shrugging a little self-consciously because she knew that she’d expressed her opinion so passionately, Isabella tried to fend off her natural fear that she shouldn’t reveal her feelings quite so vociferously. Keeping her deeper emotions mostly hidden was something she had learned by necessity to do so that she wouldn’t make waves with her family. And even though she did buck the trend every now and then—such as when she’d called off her wedding to Patrick and upset everybody—somehow the trait had translated to other relationships too. And sometimes, Isabella reflected, the insights and revelations she had learned on the Camino were not always ready to be shared with others …
Generally, people didn’t like you raising topics that made them question the purpose of their own lives. Most folk got along quite happily pretending that everything was fine, she had found—even when it clearly wasn’t.
‘Anyway—’ Natasha grinned ‘—how’s Chris getting on with this new bloke of hers? Do you think he’ll last beyond two or three dates as is her usual record?’
Chris had confided in Isabella that she really liked this new man she was seeing and, yes, she definitely did have hopes that the relationship would last beyond her usual quota of a couple of dates. Her friend yearned to get married and start a family and, at thirty-one years old, had started to fear that it might never happen. Tonight she had confessed to Isabella that she envied her being the mother of a baby son …
At the thought of her little boy, a bubble of joy seemed to burst inside her and Isabella happily anticipated cuddling him later and reacquainting herself with that most delicious of baby scents at the back of his adorable neck. She couldn’t deny she was looking forward to her favourite occupation—spending precious time with her beautiful child. He had truly become the centre of her whole world. For her, walking the Camino Way back in the spring of last year had been even more life changing than she’d anticipated. Now she had Raphael …the unexpected ‘gift’ she’d received from her incredible night of passion with Leandro Reyes. The discovery that she was pregnant had honestly come as the most stupendous of shocks.
They’d been so careful, she’d recalled hotly, even as a stomach-rolling memory had disturbingly nudged her recall—of being half asleep in the dead of night with the shrill repetitive drone of cicadas filling the hot, sultry air and hearing Leandro murmur as if dreaming …Isabella …my Isabella …’ before reaching out to her …Raphael had been conceived during those somehow ‘unreal’ moments when they’d both thought they were dreaming, and Isabella’s previous life, as a young single woman who’d been feeling vaguely dissatisfied and in turmoil about her future and who had chosen to walk the path of an ancient pilgrimage to ‘find’ herself, had been changed for ever. Now, forcing her attention back to the present and a quizzical-looking Natasha, who was clearly wondering what Isabella was looking so ‘dreamy’ about, she flushed a little guiltily. ‘I think that you should talk to Chris herself about that.’ She smiled and turned to fill her mug with the hot water that had boiled.
‘Trying to get some gossip out of you is like trying to get a politician to tell the truth! Bloody impossible! What amazes me is that you and your sister couldn’t be more different! Emilia wouldn’t hesitate to ditch any principles for a juicy story or a job promotion, yet you have enough for the whole of the UK!’
Stirring her tea and extracting the squeezed teabag, Isabella laid it carefully on a saucer and turned back to calmly regard her exasperated friend. It was ironic really. Her parents thought she had no principles for sleeping with some ‘opportunist stranger’ she’d met in Spain and getting pregnant by him and yet her friends thought she was too principled for words! She couldn’t win. ‘I’m honestly not trying to be holier than thou or anything; I just think it’s Chris’s business, that’s all. As for my sister—’ she frowned ‘—I want to be able to sleep tonight so I don’t think I’ll open that particular can of worms if you don’t mind!’
The relationship between the two women was even more strained than usual. Emilia had been frosty with Isabella ever since she’d returned from Spain last year and had not produced the demanded ‘interview’ with Leandro Reyes as she’d hoped—but Isabella had already decided that she was not going to divulge anything about her meeting with the renowned film director to anybody. Their time together had been so precious, so amazing, that she didn’t want to sully the memory of it with gossip. When she’d discovered that she was pregnant by Leandro, she’d strengthened that personal vow even more. Not even Isabella’s parents knew who her little son’s father was …And even though they clearly doted on their unexpected grandchild, they’d declared themselves to be ‘mortally disappointed’ in their eldest daughter for yet again letting down the side.
‘Well, if you’re not going to spill any beans, then I’m afraid I’m just going to have to love you and leave you.’ Her innate good nature overwhelming her disappointment at not learning any new gossip, Natasha stepped towards the dark-haired girl and gave her a genuinely fond hug. ‘Honestly, though, I’m happy to look after Raphael any time. He’s an absolute angel as well as being utterly gorgeous and you’ve made all your girlfriends green with envy …dedicated career women or not!’
‘Thanks, Natasha. It’s been a great help to me to be able to leave him at your nursery when I’m working at the library. I know for sure he’s in good hands.’
‘You’re welcome. And perhaps I’ll go see that film you saw tonight at the weekend? See if it’s as wonderful as you say it is.’
‘You won’t be disappointed, I promise you.’
Already the film had become monumentally important to Isabella because it was yet another precious link to the man she’d given her heart to all those months ago …the man who was unknowingly the father of her baby.
Walking her friend to the door and helping her on with her coat, Isabella turned eagerly towards the bedroom as the other woman finally left, unable to wait even one moment longer to see her sleeping child …
Tipping out the contents of his wallet to search for a telephone number he needed, Leandro came upon a small gold business card from his friend Benito’s hotel. He hadn’t been in touch with him since that night he’d taken Isabella there and now he dropped down into the faded leather chair behind his desk and frowned in deep concentration. All kinds of disturbing emotions seemed to flare in his blood as he continued to broodingly stare at the small embossed card. An avalanche of heat flooded his senses as Leandro recalled that amazing, sexually charged night he’d spent with Isabella. Isabella …
Such a longing arose inside him at the memory of the dark-haired English girl he had been so enamoured with that he’d seduced her on the very first night they’d met and for a moment the depth of that longing was a hollow, aching void in the centre of Leandro’s chest. He had thought about her often since bidding her goodbye outside her hotel in the Port of Vigo and there had been many a time that he had regretted his cautious decision not to give her his telephone number so that they could stay in touch.
But what was she doing now? He longed to know. Had walking the Santiago de Compostela brought her the clarity and sense of purpose that she had hoped it would? Knowing what he knew, Leandro could not doubt that it had. Perversely, in the months that had followed their parting, his personal sense of purpose had been in turmoil. He had won more acclaim for his work than he had ever dreamed of, with offers coming even from