by Anna Bell
‘Isn’t that covered by law of the hen, that you’re not supposed to talk about it?’
‘Oh yeah, I guess so. There was this one with a stubbly bum and—’
‘Law of the hen.’
‘That’s supposed to protect me and my secrets, not you.’
‘I think it works both ways,’ he says, making me laugh.
There’s something about talking with Aidan that’s so easy.
‘So here we are,’ I say, looking up at the theatre. In hindsight we should have arranged to get here earlier to have a quick drink first. I could have done with calming the nerves I didn’t realise I was going to have. We head straight inside and after scanning our tickets we get directed to our seats.
‘Looks like we’ve got a good view,’ I say as we show our tickets again before the inner doors. ‘Right at the front.’
‘I guess we’ll have a good view of the special dance,’ he says, raising an eyebrow and I instantly regret booking tickets.
‘There are lots of men here,’ I say, looking around at how busy it is, ‘now there’s a surprise. Reckon they’re all here for the boobs?’
Aidan looks around too before he looks back at me.
‘I don’t think so, somehow. How much do you know about this interpretation of the play?’
I follow his eyes around the theatre and I start to notice that the men are being quite tactile with each other. The penny slowly drops that we might be the only straight people in the audience and it makes me wonder about the play we’re about to see.
‘Um,’ says Aidan, straining to see the programme of the guy next to us. The front cover has a topless man on the front holding a veil. ‘So you know that sexy dance you promised me?’
‘The one with the seven veils,’ I say, cringing.
‘Better hope the man isn’t oiled up as he does his dance,’ he says laughing and I can’t help joining him and then we can’t stop. It seems the more men that pour into the little theatre, the more it makes us giggle.
‘And to think we could have gone to see The Exorcist,’ he says finally.
I wipe the tears away from my eyes, my cheeks aching.
‘We’ve probably got time to escape before it starts,’ I whisper.
‘Nah, come on. I’m sure it won’t be that graphic. We’re in Basingstoke, after all. It’ll give us something to talk about in the pub after.’
‘I’m sure it will. So,’ I say, having finally recovered from my bout of hysterics, ‘what have you been up to today?’
‘I went and met Saskia for lunch.’
‘Oh, Saskia, how’s she?’
‘Good. Very loved up with her girlfriend.’
Of course she is, making me feel even more like an idiot for misconstruing their relationship.
‘How’s the café going? It’s been open a few months now, hasn’t it?’
‘Yeah,’ he says, nodding. ‘It’s going OK. We’ve had a few teething problems and I don’t think it’ll make money anytime soon, but I’m kind of in it for the long haul.’
‘I hope it does really well.’
‘I hope so too, because I did put pretty much my entire savings into it. Plus I keep getting roped into doing runs to the wholesalers or to the greengrocer’s to get more stock and it would be great if we could afford to employ more staff.’
‘So that you can hide away in your house and not have to see anyone.’
‘Exactly. I like to go to work in my pants and it’s been a right drag having to get dressed when they call me.’
Don’t picture him in his pants. Don’t picture him in his pants.
‘Sometimes I think I’d like to work from home and escape the drama of our office.’
‘Your office sounds great though. Have there been any more Bake Off antics?’
‘Oh my goodness. There have,’ I say, and I quickly fill him in on the latest goings-on, not leaving out the fact that Colin has now resumed his role of chief taster of Mrs Harris’s wares, although she spoon-feeds him as he’s not allowed to touch them.
I’ve just finished telling him about Jason from Risk Management being knocked out of the competition when the lights dim and an excited ripple of chatter goes through the audience before it goes silent and the play starts.
When the play finishes, Aidan bolts like a horse and I have to run to keep up with him.
‘You know I think it would have been less scary to watch The Exorcist,’ he says, shaking out his arms.
‘I’m really sorry. I didn’t realise that he was going to be stark bollock naked.’
‘Do you have to mention the word bollocks. I’m trying to cleanse my mind of images.’
I think this has been the only time I’ve been to the theatre where I wish I’d had worse seats. It would have been much better up in the Gods where we would have been unable to see that level of anatomical detail.
‘It was like right there, practically in my face,’ he says, shuddering.
‘I feel your pain. Why are men’s bits so unpretty? And that other guy, the one with the tights on.’
‘Oh,’ he says, raising his hand to stop me. ‘I’m hoping that was an unfortunate wardrobe malfunction or else he was in all sorts of trouble.’
I can’t help but giggle and he starts too.
‘The play was good though, don’t you think?’
It only makes him laugh harder.
‘It was different, I’ll give you that, but as much as I enjoyed elements of it, I think in the future we should stick to Eighties and Nineties films.’
‘Yes, at least we’d have seen them before and they’d be properly vetted.’
‘Vetted, exactly. Now can you take me to the pub to buy me a quick drink before I catch the train home.’
‘Of course.’
We head to the quietest pub we can find on a Saturday night.
‘What do you want to drink?’
‘Just a beer, thanks.’
I go over to the bar and he heads off to the toilets.
‘Oh my God, it’s Izzy, isn’t it?’ says a woman, coming up to me.
I turn to look at her and I can’t place her. This happens every so often, someone from school that I don’t recognise. The perils of living in your hometown.
‘Izzy and Luke?’ she says, her smile widening.
‘Oh no,’ I say in what comes out in a Scottish accent and I go with it. ‘That’s not me. Sorry, lassie.’
Lassie? I think it’s a step too far but she buys the accent.
‘Oh, sorry. I’ve had a lot to drink tonight. But you look a bit like her. She’s in this Instagram couple I follow.’
‘Sounds delightful,’ I say my accent turning slightly Irish, but the woman doesn’t seem to notice.
‘What can I get you?’ asks a man behind the bar.
The woman is still next to me so I order Aidan a beer and myself a single malt whisky to keep in character, but as the barman puts it down, the smell of it turns my stomach, and I order a Coke too.
I’m just getting my change when Aidan comes back from the toilet.
‘Have a good night,’ says the woman as I go to leave.
‘Thanks, lassie,’ I say.
Aidan stares at me with amusement.
‘Did you get yourself a wee dram?’ he says in an accent that reminds me of David Tennant.
‘I did indeed.’
We make our way to a quiet table.
‘Do I want to know what that was about?’ he asks in his normal accent.
‘Someone who thought they knew me from school,’ I say. ‘I couldn’t be arsed to do all the small talk to find out if we did know each other or not; I’m sure I’d remember her if we’d been close.’
‘Oh, if I’d known I’d have joined in, although I do a better Irish accent,’ he says, demonstrating.
‘Ooh, tell me more.’
We spend the next half an hour trying and mostly failing to talk using different accents. The more whisky and Coke I drink, the more convincing I think I sound
. By the time Aidan’s walking me home an hour later, my facial muscles are aching where I’ve been laughing so much.
He insists on walking me to my block of flats and, seeing as it’s at the end of the approach to the station, I let him, as it’s not too far out of his way.
‘Well, Izzy, thank you for the most uncomfortable yet one of the funniest nights of my life.’
‘An evening out with me is never dull,’ I say.
‘I’m starting to realise that,’ he says, nodding.
A train rattles past slowly as it pulls into the station, reminding me that Aidan’s got to go.
‘Thanks for walking me back and for being such good company.’
‘You’re welcome. So, Flight of the Navigator then, next month.’
‘Hmmm, yes, I guess I’ll see you in five weeks’ time.’
It suddenly seems like a very long time away.
‘You know, sometimes I get lonely on dog walks.’
‘Isn’t that why you’ve got Barney?’
Aidan bites his lip.
‘Yes, but sometimes his conversation isn’t up to much.’
‘I’ve heard that about Labradors. Well, I like to walk, as long as it’s not too cold, or wet.’
‘Great, I’ll give you a shout in the spring then.’
I laugh and wish I’d worn a warmer coat; the whisky’s wearing off and it’s cold out.
‘Perhaps I could dig out some gloves and waterproof jacket and come with you.’ I want another excuse to see him and I don’t think I’ll be able to convince him to see another play.
‘That would be lovely. One weekend?’
I nod.
‘OK, I’ll send you a message then.’
‘I’d like that.’
‘Right, I’ll be going then,’ he says. He doesn’t move. He’s so close to me that I could reach out and touch him, only I don’t.
Even if he hadn’t sworn off relationships, now is not a good time for me to be looking for love. The hotel campaign only goes to show how on the cusp I am of my life seriously changing. My influencer dreams are starting to become a reality and I don’t want to mess up the opportunity.
He leans over and kisses me on the cheek and I try and ignore the crackle of electricity.
‘I’ve got to get my train,’ he says in almost a whisper.
‘Yes, you go,’ I say, ignoring the voice in my head that wants me to beg him to stay.
‘I’ll see you soon, for the dog walk?’
‘Absolutely,’ I say a little too enthusiastically.
I watch him go and realise that I’m in trouble as the more time I spend with him, the more I fall for him and that can’t happen when I’m so close to living my dream.
Welcome to November
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It’s November – hurrah! One of my favourite months as it’s starting to get properly cold out and I can layer up in all my scarves and coats. Thanks for all of your Halloween love. Yes, it did take me a long time to make the costume and for all of you concerned about wasting the clingfilm, that’s the second time I’ve now worn that outfit and I’m hoping to use it again. Didn’t Luke look hot as Dexter?
There’s also been a lot of love for our Makayto-sponsored pics. So much so that the discount code stopped working as they’d sold out. But I have good news on that front: it’s now back in stock! I’ll pop a link in the comments and you too can match your other half – imagine wearing those outfits on Christmas Day!
I am such a lucky lady to have Luke in my life. You would not believe the things that come out of his mouth, he’s a true catch. He’s also a massive zapper of time as between keeping up my Insta feed, working and seeing him, I have zero opportunity for anything else. Not that I’m complaining, I wish I could be with him 24/7. Yes, I know it’s sickening, but I don’t care.
Chapter 20
‘Bloody traffic,’ I say as we inch closer to the outskirts of the city only to be halted by yet another red light.
‘That’s Friday night for you,’ says Luke.
‘I’m itching to get onto the open road and try this baby out.’
I stroke the steering wheel of the electric car we’ve been loaned for the weekend.
‘Do you think we’re ever going to get there, I’m starving.’ My stomach starts to growl to illustrate the point.
‘I’ve got some food,’ he says, reaching down into his satchel and pulling out a Tupperware tub. ‘Miles at work was trying out some Bake Off recipes. It’s Asian week next week and he made me extra spring rolls because he knows how much I love them.’
‘I love them too, give me one,’ I say, holding out a hand and Luke passes me one.
‘Do you think they’re a bit messy to eat in here?’
‘This car’s so hi-tech it’ll probably clean itself,’ I say, biting into the flaky pastry and spilling crumbs everywhere. ‘Oh my God, that is so good. The standard of the last few contestants is so high. I don’t know how they’re going to pick a winner.’
‘We’ll soon find out. Have you heard that they’re announcing the winner at the Christmas party?’
‘Yes, Mrs Harris has already bought her dress for when she goes up on stage.’
‘Let’s hope she at least makes it through the last two rounds then,’ says Luke.
‘She’d better do, or that’s all we’ll hear about forever more.’
He hands me over another one and I stuff it in my mouth.
‘What’s in them? Is it chicken?’
‘Prawns, I think. You’ve got to try his samosas too.’
He hands me one and I almost miss the light turning green. Luckily for me the car behind me beeps and I shove the rest of a samosa into my mouth before I pull away. I make it onto the main road and the traffic is flowing and I finally get the car to go over 20 mph for the first time since we pulled out of the garage.
‘This car is amazing,’ I say, the speedometer ramping up.
‘Can you drive it a bit slower?’ I watch him searching to find something to cling onto. ‘Why doesn’t this one have handles?’
‘Maybe if you say “handles” loud enough one will appear like they did on the outside. I feel like I’m James Bond,’ I say.
‘Well, you don’t have to drive like him.’
‘Calm down, grandma, I’m hardly going that fast – just feels it because we were stop-start in traffic before.’
‘You’re going fast enough,’ he says, clearly having palpitations.
‘Look, there’s nothing wrong with my driving but if you’d prefer we could let the car drive itself,’ I say, flicking a lever. ‘Look, no hands.’
I wiggle my fingers and Luke actually looks like he’s going to lose it.
‘Put your hands back on the wheel. Put them on now! You’re not supposed to be doing that. The woman said that even when self-driving you have to keep your hands on the wheel; it’ll sense you don’t have them on.’
I groan like he’s a killjoy before I put my hands back on the steering wheel, but to be honest I was shitting my pants. As cool as this car is, I’m not sure if I like it being in control.
‘OK, I’ll put it back onto manual drive.’
‘Actually, I think I felt safer with the robot.’
‘Hey,’ I say. ‘I’ll have you know that I’m a good driver. At least I have my licence.’
‘So do I, it’s only been suspended temporarily.’
‘And you’re the one telling me off for speeding and that’s how you lost yours.’
He grips onto the side of seat.
‘I got done by the same bloody speed camera in a thirty.’
‘Four times.’
‘Yeah, but three of them were in the same week and I just thought the lights were bright down that road. Anyway, there’s a difference between going fast and being reckless.’
I start to giggle. No one has ever called me reckless before. I’m not even exceeding the speed limit.
‘I stil
l don’t know why you agreed to test drive a car for the weekend if you couldn’t drive,’ I say.
‘It said it was a driverless car and I read it quickly. I just thought it would look better than arriving at the hotel in your little Micra. No offence.’
‘None taken. Have you got any more of those spring rolls?’
Luke hands me another and I gobble it down and by the time we make it to our turning we’ve eaten the whole tub.
‘Take a left here,’ says Luke, just as the onboard computer tells me the same thing.
I pull off the main road and follow the sat nav. A few minutes later, we pass the sign for Ingleford Manor and we head down a long driveway to an imposing-looking country hotel.
‘Wow, this place is beautiful.’ We drive around the large fountain in the middle of the turning circle and follow the signs for the car park. ‘That rain’s really coming down now.’
I spot a space close to the entrance and I slow down to pull in.
‘Whoa, what are you doing?’ gasps Luke.
‘Parking.’
‘Um, that space might be big enough for your Micra, but it isn’t big enough for this car. Why don’t you let it park itself?’
‘I’m perfectly capable of doing it.’
‘What’s the point of barking if you have a dog? Come on, put the auto park on.’
I want to make a point but, even though I’m convinced that that space is big enough, I don’t really want to take the car back to the shiny showroom with a massive scratch down it.
I set the car into auto park mode and fold my arms for a moment before Luke gives me the stare of death and I place my hands back on the wheel.
‘Told you that space was too small,’ says Luke as the car drives past it.
‘Maybe, but it’s just driven past that one and it was massive.’
The car eventually finds us a space at the end of a row of cars and reverses with a precision that amazes me.
‘Now that was impressive,’ says Luke.
‘Would have been more impressive if it had been closer to the door.’
‘At least you don’t have to worry about your hair like I do,’ he says, touching his quiff.