Part Thirty

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Chapter Thirty

Joel turned to look at her, and Sammy wanted to laugh, he looked so out of sorts in just his boxer shorts, face flushed. Though she was blushing too as Clifford stepped into the lounge smiling. She was wearing his shirt, a garment that was so obviously his, and that only fell to a couple of inches below her knickers. Damn shirt, it had kept her awake all night, all soft and scented, over powering her senses and smelling like Joel wrapped around her, when all she wanted was to make her baby girl feel better.

"You didn't sign all the forms." Clifford waved a sheaf of papers in her direction, "I didn't want to let anymore time pass, it'd delay the move with Christmas coming."

"Thank you, that's so kind." As she showed Clifford to the small dining table, she spotted her bra, sticking out from under the sofa. The last thing she wanted was for Clifford to see that. Giving what she hoped was a discreet cough, she stopped the retreating Joel who turned, then she glared at him, then down to the floor. After the third time, he followed her eyes and gasped. Lashing a foot out to the side he kicked it under the sofa then carried on his journey to his bedroom.

"Sorry Clifford, to drag you out like that, on a cold winter morning."

He smiled, "not a problem. I didn't realise you'd stayed in London. I'd have come over last night."

Once again she blushed and hated that her face was so expressive, but ultimately was glad that he hadn't turned up when the passion had been at his height.

"We called to say hello then Eleanor was tired, so we stayed. She's had me up all night with a temperature. But hey," she shrugged, "that's kids."

"I remember it well, the sleepless nights." He slid the paper across the table to her, then sat back his arms crossed, "I would like to meet her someday."

She nodded, "she's asleep, otherwise I'd have brought her out now...she didn't fall asleep until about half four."

"The last thing I want is to meet her when she's at her worst!" He grinned as he watched her sign, "but as I keep saying, the house...that's not what it was about. I want what you're owed, what was taken from you by both my sons."

That sounded far more serious than she thought the situation was, but she wasn't about to argue, Marcus had given her a great life until he died, and of course Eleanor. She wouldn't change that for the world.

After scribbling her name and initials in all the designated spaces, he smiled, "excellent. Will you let me know how moving goes...and whether you need any help?"

"I was planning to help her."

They both turned to see Joel stood in the doorway from the bedroom, he was in a suit, ready for work, hair wet from what must have been the quickest shower in history. "I've got a mate who's on standby to do the moving. As you say Clifford, this is the least we can do for Marcus, hey?"

As Clifford crossed towards him and shook his hand gratefully, Sammy watched things from a distance trying to fathom out what the hell was happening.

Joel was talking quietly to the older man as they crossed the room and they shared a hug on the doorstep.

"I'll be in touch Sammy," Clifford called out, and she smiled and waved.

Joel took a moment to turn back and face the music. As awkward went, that would probably score a fifteen out of ten, Clifford had looked at him so knowingly, and he hated how that made him feel. He'd spent a large amount of his life in the shadow of his best friend, and now his father had witnessed him stepping out of that, finally. He had no idea what people would think about the fact that he almost had sex with his dead best friend's wife. What a bastard.

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