It Was You, Page 37

  ‘Come on then,’ he stood up and held out his hand to me.

  I took it and rose to my feet. ‘Where shall we go?’ I asked, as we walked across the bar, and through the stone-lined archway, towards the exit.

  ‘How about,’ he said, holding the door open for me as I stepped out onto the pavement, ‘I cook for you? We will have privacy, we won’t be forced to whisper and you can relax and hopefully feel less asthmatic.’ He turned, looked down at me, seemed suddenly amused and then, taking my face gently in his hands, he kissed me. ‘What do you think?’ he said after a moment, his hands moving to my waist.

  ‘I think I might actually end up feeling more asthmatic,’ I said, reaching up and placing my arms around his neck. ‘But I’m willing to risk it. So,’ I continued, ‘what are you planning to cook this evening?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ he said, smiling down at me. ‘Any thoughts?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Any of them to do with food?’ he asked.

  I shook my head.

  ‘Glad to hear it,’ he said.

  And then he took my hand and we walked up the hill.

  Epilogue

  There are, of course, many different approaches to change. We can accept it, resist it, or even, as in the case of my feelings for Jon, fail to recognise the possibility of it. But Stephen Powell was, for all his flawed thinking, right about one thing: there was no need for me to fear it. Because embracing change, I learned, doesn’t mean the loss of what has gone before. Situations, people and relationships may change, but the family, friends and loves of the past remain just as real and precious, and hold just as much relevance, as they ever did. Jon and I didn’t trade our friendship for something else, we built upon it. And we didn’t forget a past which was so important to us both; we remembered and celebrated it.

  As it turned out, the evening of my breathless first date with Mr Durham heralded significant change not only for Jon and myself. Because on that night, at the age of thirty-seven, David Moore finally asked a woman out. And he was fortunate enough to choose a woman so smitten with him that she had resigned from her job under the ridiculous misapprehension that she simply wasn’t good enough for him. Sophie and I had talked many times since about what might have happened had David not nailed his colours to the mast that fateful Friday evening. And such conversations always concluded with mutual shudders at the thought of opportunities for happiness so very nearly missed, due to a fear of taking a leap, and the lure of a safe status quo.

  And as I watched Sophie and David now, through the open doorway of The Albion, standing side by side at the bar, looking as happy and perfect together as they had on the evening of the book group dinner three months earlier, I was delighted that these two people, whom I loved so much, had not missed their moment.

  ‘There you go,’ said Sophie, returning to our table in the cobbled courtyard and placing my drink in front of me. ‘White wine for you, a nice glass of red for me and,’ she turned to David as she flopped down on the bench opposite me, ‘a beer for Clark. Perfect.’

  David sat down next to her, looked at me and sighed. ‘I so wish you hadn’t mentioned the Clark Kent analogy, Alice.’

  ‘Bollocks,’ said Sophie, leaning towards him and kissing his cheek. ‘I mean rubbish. You love it.’ She winked at me and kissed him again, as he coloured slightly and laughed.

  When in the office, they were utterly professional, or at least as professional as they ever had been. Sophie still shouted at David for being too nice and coughing oddly and he still expressed quiet dismay at her man-language, but there was nothing to indicate that they were anything other than close work colleagues.

  Outside the office, however, Sophie was what David termed demonstrative. The level of this demonstrated affection was never such to cause embarrassment to anyone other than the person upon whom it was bestowed and, although he sighed and rolled his eyes when made victim to her kisses, embraces and compliments, he clearly adored them – as much as he adored her and as much as she adored him.

  ‘Are you not helping Jon prepare for the book group meeting this evening, Alice?’ asked David, picking up his pint and taking a first appreciative sip.

  ‘And why should she?’ Sophie frowned. ‘Just because she’s got ovaries doesn’t mean she’s any more adept at putting crisps in a bowl than he is, does it?’

  ‘Not at all,’ said David. ‘I merely thought that they may want to spend a little time chatting over the canapés…’

  ‘Crisps, David,’ said Sophie. ‘We eat crisps. Wotsits, Pringles – that kind of thing.’ She looked at me. ‘I bet he’s never had a Wotsit. Have you ever had a Wotsit, David?’

  He ignored her. ‘…chatting over the canapés, before everyone else arrives,’ he continued. ‘Sophie and I had a very nice early evening last weekend, stuffing a ballotine before mother arrived.’

  ‘And sadly that’s not even a euphemism,’ sighed Sophie. ‘But it was fun,’ she admitted. ‘David’s a very good cook, you know. Takes after his father, apparently. So his mum says.’

  ‘Jon is a good cook too, actually,’ I said, ‘which is great because…’

  ‘Because you are not,’ concluded Sophie on my behalf. ‘We know.’ She beamed and nudged me. ‘So, are there still lots of lovely romantic dinners then?’ She threw me a wink. ‘Lots of sleepovers?’

  ‘Alice should be allowed some privacy,’ said David disapprovingly.

  ‘Oh, she knows I’m only teasing, don’t you, Alice?’

  ‘No,’ I said.

  She laughed. ‘Oh but I’m just so happy for you both.’ She sipped her drink and smiled. ‘But God knows it’s been a bloody long haul. When I think back to Eleanor Black’s party…’

  ‘Let’s not think back to Eleanor Black’s party,’ said David.

  I nodded. ‘I agree.’

  ‘When I think back to Eleanor Black’s party…’ repeated Sophie, gazing into the middle distance and shuddering. ‘I just couldn’t believe it when you said he was dating Suzanna, when I knew – I just knew he wanted to be with you.’

  David closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. ‘So, you’ve told us,’ he said, ‘many times.’

  ‘Many, many times,’ I echoed. ‘If only you’d been so perceptive regarding David’s feelings for you,’ I added brightly.

  ‘And then I realised that he was trying to not be with you, because of history and uncertainty and fear of change and,’ she continued, our interjections having had no effect, ‘then when you said that you hadn’t even bothered to tell him you’d split up with Stephen! I thought, oh for fu—’ At this point she paused and glanced at David before continuing. ‘I thought, oh, for goodness sake and then I had to find an excuse to phone him and check that you’d made the call. I tell you – it was never bloody ending.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. You two nearly drove me back onto the fags.’

  David picked up his pint, emitting a theatrically weary sigh, whilst looking at her with undisguised affection and amusement.

  ‘Oi, you,’ she said, prodding him gently. ‘Stop avoiding the question.’

  ‘There was a question?’ he asked, looking genuinely bemused.

  She groaned. ‘Have you ever had a Wotsit?’ She reached into her bag and took out her phone. ‘Hang on,’ she said, ‘let me get the list up.’

  I looked at David. His face registered no emotion.

  ‘What list?’ I asked. ‘I don’t think I’ve heard about this.’

  ‘I started it on Tuesday,’ Sophie explained. ‘It’s a list of common people things which David has never done.’

  ‘When you say common people…?’ I queried.

  ‘I mean normal people, obviously,’ said Sophie. ‘I just didn’t want to make him feel bad.’

  I looked at David; he hid a smile in his pint.

  ‘So what’s on the list so far?’ I asked.

  Sophie looked at her phone. ‘Never played pool in a pub.’

  David
held up a finger. ‘Although, I did point out to Sophie that billiards is very—’

  She didn’t pause for breath. ‘Never watched an episode of any soap opera, never had arctic roll, never played Buckaroo, never had sex outdoors. Ooh, no, actually…’ She pressed some buttons on her phone, ‘I’ll just delete that one…’

  I refused to look at David.

  ‘Never been to Alton Towers and,’ Sophie began to type, ‘never… had… a… Wotsit.’

  ‘That’s quite a list,’ I said.

  Sophie smiled. ‘We’re ticking them off.’

  ‘So I gathered,’ I said quietly.

  She looked at me and I frowned disapprovingly.

  ‘Ooh, sorry,’ she said, looking at David.

  ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘I know you were just thinking aloud. Again.’

  She bit her lip and smiled. ‘Working on it,’ she said and kissed him. ‘Maybe you should start a “to do” list for me.’

  ‘I’ll show it to you later,’ said Superman, looking at her over his pint. ‘But I should warn you, it is of quite considerable length.’

  * * *

  ‘Hello!’ said Abs. ‘Come in, come in. Jon said you were going out first. Hope the pair of you aren’t roaring drunk. Actually,’ she held up her hand to her mouth and continued in a stage whisper, ‘I met Pete and a couple of his friends after work for a very quick G&T. It’s a leaving do and Pete’s not at work tomorrow, so he’ll be bouncing off the walls later. He’s such a fizzer.’

  Sophie laughed. ‘Like David,’ she said.

  ‘Just like David,’ agreed Abs. ‘Two fizzers! Anyway, come on in.’

  I hung my bag over the end of the banister and we followed Abs through to the back of the house. Everyone was there, seated on sofas in the L-shaped living area.

  Sophie and I offered the room a general, ‘Hello!’

  ‘I’m just waiting for the day Alice Waites is not last to book group,’ said Miriam, putting her arm around me and giving me a squeeze as I sat down next to her.

  ‘Is that my new flaw to cure?’ I asked. ‘Now that I’ve actually started to read the books?’

  ‘Three books in a row,’ said Jon, appearing with a bowl of crisps and a tray of salmon blinis. He added the food to the selection already on the large, low coffee table in front of us. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi,’ I smiled.

  He turned. ‘And hello, Sophie. Help yourself to drinks.’ He gestured towards the kitchen, where glasses were laid out on the work surface. ‘Cold stuff is in the fridge.’

  ‘These are so fantastic, Jon,’ said Abs, picking up something made of puff pastry. ‘You always have the best hors d’oeuvres.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, sitting down next to her.

  ‘Bit of a half-hearted host on the drinks front, though.’ Sophie rolled her eyes at him and stood up. ‘White wine, Alice?’

  ‘Please,’ I nodded and she headed for the kitchen area, grabbing Connie by the hand as she went and dragging her with her.

  ‘Come with me, Connie,’ she said. ‘I want to hear all about how your interview for that part-time job went. I bet they loved you.’

  I smiled after them and then, as Abs began to describe to Jon the jumper she was secretly knitting for Pete as a birthday surprise, I felt Miriam gently nudge me. ‘How are things?’ she asked quietly.

  I leaned my head back on the sofa and turned my face towards her. ‘Things are very good indeed,’ I said. ‘And you?’

  ‘Looking forward to Cornwall next week,’ she beamed.

  I smiled. ‘Great.’

  ‘We’re keeping our fingers crossed for the weather. It’s later and closer to home than we’d usually go, but, you know, I’m not a great traveller and it’s so much cheaper once the schools go back.’

  ‘And it’s often hotter in September,’ I said, noting this further example of the belt-tightening which I knew was currently taking place in the Marshall household. ‘How long are you there for? A week?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Believe it or not we’re going for a whole ten days. Craig insisted.’

  ‘Well, good for him,’ I said, keeping my fingers crossed that Craig’s adjustment to his work/life balance would prove sustainable. ‘Don’t forget to send me a postcard.’

  She laughed. ‘You can have one of the unwritten ones I’ll bring home with me. Ooh, but,’ she squeezed my arm excitedly, ’I forgot to tell you. Romy’s found a flat in Cotham.’

  ‘Does that mean you won’t have a lodger after all?’

  ‘Just for three weeks,’ she said. ‘And I’ll feel better for having her with us when she first moves. That way I can…’ she hesitated ‘…help her settle in.’ She gave me a guilty, side-long glance.

  I wagged a finger at her. ‘No prying, no spying and definitely no interfering.’

  She gasped and placed a hand to her chest. ‘As if I would!’

  ‘Well done for managing to sound affronted,’ I said.

  She smiled.

  ‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘I hear Romy’s adamantly refusing to join book group.’

  I enjoyed her look of surprise. ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Hugh,’ I laughed. ‘Jon and I met him for a drink last week.’

  Miriam nodded. ‘Truth to tell,’ she said, ‘I didn’t argue with her. She said we were a settled little group and that a new member would upset the dynamics and well,’ she looked around and shrugged, ‘I thought maybe she had a point.’

  I followed her gaze around the room. Jon was now telling Abs about our forthcoming trip to Florence, whilst Sophie loudly reeled off her “common people” list to Connie – the latter nodding politely, if looking a little anxiously wide-eyed.

  I turned to Miriam and smiled, remembering the moment, years earlier, when she had first suggested that we form a book group; an idea I had so very nearly trounced. I sighed, closed my eyes and saw and heard Lydia gently saving the day. How about we just read short books… you’d be OK with a novella or two, wouldn’t you, Alice?

  Aware of Miriam placing her hand on mine, I opened my eyes. ‘Are you OK?’ she mouthed. ‘What’s wrong?’

  I shook my head. ‘I was just thinking about us, about the Short Book Group,’ I said quietly. ‘Remembering.’

  She smiled sadly. ‘I understand.’

  ‘I know you do,’ I whispered.

  ‘I think about it a lot,’ she said, giving my hand a squeeze. ‘Where we started and where we are now.’ She turned her head towards Jon, as he glanced up, caught my eye and smiled, before returning his attention to Abs. ‘She only ever wanted him to be happy, didn’t she?’ she murmured, as if to herself. ‘And job done, I say.’

  I looked down at her hand, still holding mine, and smiled. ‘Thank you for caring about me, Miriam,’ I said, ‘whether I like it or not.’

  She laughed and then, ‘Same,’ she replied.

  ‘There you go.’ Sophie patted my knee and handed me a glass of wine, before turning to sit next to Connie. ‘So, yes, anyway,’ I heard her say as she sat down, ‘it was a warm evening and there was no one about, so we were able to cross that one off the list as well.’

  ‘Well, how very lovely, Sophie,’ said Connie, now looking commendably relaxed.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Miriam, suddenly brisk, tapping the book on her lap, and addressing the room, ‘what did everybody think of this book?’ She turned to me, with a look of mischievous confrontation in her eye. ‘Why don’t you start us off, Alice? Did it compare favourably to The Hitchhiker’s Guide in terms of realism?’

  ‘Miriam,’ I said, putting my arm around her, ‘it was the perfect book choice. It made me laugh a lot, think a little and kept me hooked. I loved it.’

  ‘I knew you would,’ she said, grinning.

  ‘Well, evidently you know me better than I know myself then,’ I said, smiling.

  ‘God, who doesn’t?’ said Sophie.

  I turned towards her and she offered me a sly wink before laughing.

  I rolled my eyes and s
ighed, but I knew she had a point.

  * * *

  I heard the front door close and then Jon’s footsteps in the hallway, as he returned to the kitchen. I turned as he approached and enveloped me in his arms. ‘Hello, Ms Waites,’ he said.

  ‘Hello, Mr Durham.’ I placed my arms around his neck and leaned my head against his chest.

  We remained like that for some time before he spoke again.

  ‘So, have you lost your key or just forgotten it?’

  I didn’t reply.

  ‘I’ll get you another,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Another another, I mean.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  He kissed the top of my head. ‘Your father phoned,’ he said.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘He says he’s left a message on your landline, but wanted you to know that he’s entered a bake-off.’

  ‘Dear God.’

  ‘We had quite a conversation.’

  I looked up at him. ‘A good one?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘a good one. We have a lot in common.’

  ‘I know.’ I replaced my head on his chest. ‘You’ll have to tell me about it some time.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘I enjoyed book group,’ I said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Things are definitely still improving for Miriam and Craig. Oh and Connie had so much to say, didn’t she?’ I smiled. ‘You know, I think she’s getting used to being listened to. Both at home and at book group.’

  ‘Hmm…’ he said absently.

  ‘And talking of being listened to…’ I prodded him gently in the ribs. ‘Are you listening to me, or is your mind elsewhere?’

  ‘What?’

  I looked up and pointed to his right hand, which was now resting on top of his head. ‘You’re mid run-through,’ I said.

  He smiled and put his arm back around me.

  ‘I was thinking about the past and the future,’ he said.

  I sighed. ‘That’s a sizeable topic.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘And your conclusions?’

  ‘I am very happy,’ he said.

  I held him tightly. ‘Me too.’