Chapter 33

Clara looked around the old mansion and smiled to herself, feeling more than confident in the beautiful ball gown she had chosen for tonight. That was exactly why she had wanted to come here: dress up, mingle, enjoy the music, the food, the dancing – although she was still waiting for John to suggest the latter. He hadn't wanted to come here before his accident, claiming that he wasn't very fond of the people that would be present, claiming that it was a boring event, but they were here now. He had bought the tickets for them. They might as well make the very best of it.

"Are you gonna ask or shall I just drag you away?" Clara enquired, giggling when she spotted him sniffing the food in suspicion.

His head shot up. "Drag me where?"

"To the dancefloor, of course."

His expression turned from suspicion to fright. "I don't suppose I've learned how to dance in the past five years?"

Clara smiled at him in reply. "Only if you did it in secret."

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted when a man pushed himself into Clara's field of vision and reached for John's hand to shake without even waiting for his response.

"John Smith!" the man laughed, "I didn't expect to see you at one of these events again!"

"Yes," he replied reluctantly and John seemed glad when he was finally able to pull his hand away, "It's been a while. I've been quite busy."

"I suppose it was tough coming here without your wife," the man went on, "But I see you've brought your daughter. That's lovely."

Clara opened her mouth to protest, but luckily for her John was much quicker than that and immediately jumped to her defence.

"Henry, that is Clara," he said, "My wife. Clara, that's Henry Johnson. We went to university together."

"Kind of figured that," she remarked drily.

The look on Henry's face was something between awe and abhorrence while he stared at Clara, probably trying to determine exactly how old, or better how much younger she was. Then John suddenly reached for her arm.

"Excuse us, Henry, but Clara and I were about to dance," he said sharply and immediately started to pull Clara away.

"I'm sorry about him," John said once they were out of earshot, "And sorry about everyone else for that matter."

They came to a halt on the dancefloor just as a new song started and John laid his hand on her waist and tried his best to move to the rhythm, almost stepping on Clara's feet in the process.

"So you stopped coming here after your first wife died?" Clara asked curiously, "You never told me that."

"No, I stopped coming here because they're all knobs," he growled.

"Ah, forget about them. Focus on this," she told him happily, smiling up at him, "Good food. Good music. And the fact that Henry is still staring at me, probably wishing that his wife was just as young and pretty."

"What?!"

Clara giggled when John's head shot around, trying to find his former classmate in the crowd. "I'll punch him in the face if he keeps looking," he muttered angrily.

"Focus," Clara reminded him, making him turn back towards her. "Pretty wife here, remember?"

His features lit up when he looked at her and a smile spread all over his face when he pulled Clara a little closer to his own body. "Well, I suppose I can't blame him. You really are the most beautiful woman here by far," John said.

She wrinkled her nose. "That's not much of a compliment. Not with that kind of competition."

"Okay, most beautiful woman on earth. That better?"

"Depends on how many gorgeous Martians you know," she replied, chuckling.

"Oh, many," John laughed, causing Clara to laugh with him.

"You're an idiot," Clara giggled, "I love you."

John stopped his movements and his hands instantly wandered from her waist to cup her face as he bent down to kiss her. For some reason Clara suddenly felt butterflies in her stomach and she had no idea where they had come from. They had known each other for over five years. She shouldn't still get butterflies.

"I have an idea," John whispered when their lips parted, "Come with me."

Clara didn't protest as John dragged her away from the dancefloor because she was more than curious what he was up to and a few moments later she found herself standing next to the buffet again. He told her to grab a few snacks while he looked around to see if anyone was watching them. When he seemed sure that no one was paying attention John reached for a bottle of champagne and swiftly hid it beneath his jacket before he nodded towards the door.

She found herself outside in the garden surrounding the mansion a few minutes later and realized that the air was still warm even though the sky was clear and the stars were visible out here in the countryside. It was a wonderful summer night.

"Let's take a walk, shall we? There's a lake here somewhere," John explained with a smile and Clara was only too eager to follow even though her knees still felt a little wobbly after the kiss he had given her on the dancefloor.

"It's beautiful out here," she remarked, looking around.

"Much better than inside, don't you think? Okay, this way," he said and a few moments later they both came to a halt on a little wooden bridge leading onto the lake.

Clara imagined that some people must use this for fishing when she sat down and after taking off her shoes she carefully lowered her feet until she could feel water. It was cool but not cold after the sun had been shining on it all day. Everything about this was perfectly lovely, even better than being inside the ballroom and certainly a lot more romantic. She was glad to see that John hadn't lost his sense of romance.

"Definitely better than insi- uhh!" Clara flinched when the pop of the champagne bottle startled her. John handed her the drink moments later and Clara took a large sip from out of the bottle before she inhaled deeply and started to take in her surroundings.

Warm summer night. Stars. Faint music from the mansion. Chirping crickets. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

"I love this," she admitted with a sigh while she leaned against John's shoulder.

"Me too," he replied and had a sip from the champagne as well. "Not a big fan of crowds. Especially not the one in there. I. . . I'd rather spend the evening with just you."

"Stop it," Clara giggled.

"Stop what?"

Clara turned to look at him, grinning. "You're doing it again," she said, "You're making me fall in love with you again when it's supposed to go the other way around."

John frowned her at her in reply. "What makes you think I'm not falling in love with you?"

"Are you?" she asked earnestly.

"God, yes," John breathed before he leaned forward and pressed his lips on her own. When Clara opened her mouth to him and felt his tongue upon her own, careful at first, then a little more insistent, a little more eager, Clara's heart skipped a beat. Maybe, just maybe they were finally moving in the right direction.