***
When I get to A & E, Mike is in the waiting room with a blood-soaked Ava.
‘Oh, my darling girl, what happened?’ I fall to my knees in front of her.
‘I was playing tig and jumped on the wall near the fence to try and get away from Jordon Fray but my foot slipped and I banged my face.’
I take her face in my hands and inspect the damage. Her lip is split and there is a deep wound above her eyebrow but otherwise, she seems okay. I hug her and slide into the seat next to Mike.
‘Thank you for being there,’ I whisper.
‘No problem. The school said they called you first but it went straight to your answerphone.’
I swallow. Never has a ball of guilt felt so big. ‘I … er went out to a farm. It’s one of our clients. The phone reception was hit and miss.’
Mike accepts that but for the rest of the evening, I feel terrible. The hospital glue Ava’s wounds and give her a teddy sporting the same dressings as the ones they put on her. She can’t wait to tell her friends all about her drama tomorrow.
All I can think of is how stupid I was. Out there living so carefree when my daughter needed me. I knew getting involved with Edward was a bad idea.
Chapter 37
When Saturday comes I wave the kids off with Mike and spend the next few hours on the verge of hyperventilation. I’d tried (pathetically) to cancel the date but every time I typed the excuse-riddled message, I deleted it. Deep down I must really want to go. Besides, I know the kids are safe today; they’re with their dad. After much toing and froing, I concluded that I should go on the date. Edward is so easy to be around, I don’t know why I’m almost rigid with fear at the thought of going to watch a film with him. Granted, I haven’t really dated. Being a Nineties teen growing up around Manchester, I never met the sort of boys who ‘took you out’ on a date. It was more group nights out with friends I got invited along to and by the time Mike and I went on our first dinner out together, we were already an item.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the concept. It’s romantic and a great way to see if someone is a noisy eater before your heart gets the better of you; however, in this case, I’m scared witless. I can’t even enlist the moral support of Janey and her no-nonsense approach to getting on with it because I still don’t want anyone to know. I’ve told her I’m meeting Emily again tonight. I feel terrible for lying but it’s temporary and I’ll come clean. Eventually.
In order to make an effort, I even put on some fake tan – the sort you sleep in and wash off the next day – but to be honest I wish I hadn’t. Despite a good scrub in the shower, I still look and smell like a Wotsit. I lather on some perfumed body lotion to mask it and settle on wearing a strappy linen sundress. It’s white with small, red polka dots on and comes just past the knee. It’s cute without looking like I’m making too much of an effort. I panic-bought it off Facebook of all places as soon as the date was agreed and it arrived just in the nick of time.
I’ve used an old wand to wave my hair and now the curls have cooled, I’m running my fingers through to create a looser wave. Once my light make-up is done, I try on some heels, but my feet hurt as soon as I step into them so I settle for some light-tan leather sandals that are flat and much more comfortable.
I’m meeting Edward in the city centre. He had some things to sort out with his day off and I’m going on the tram and meeting him at Victoria station. People swarm the concourse. I fight my way through the throngs of shoppers, concert fans, theatregoers and early revellers. It’s a ten-minute walk down Deansgate and a right turn before I’m at the place we’d agreed to meet outside but I can’t see him. I glance at my watch. He must be running late. I lean against the wall and watch other people – couples, groups of friends and so on – pour inside. After ten minutes, I spot Edward approaching. It’s busy and he hasn’t noticed me yet so I let my eyes linger and drink in the sight of him a moment. He’s wearing navy chino shorts and a white linen shirt with brown loafers. Seeing him in his casual clothes never fails to take my breath away but I like the tweed too.
‘Hi,’ I say coyly once he’s close enough.
‘Steph, you look …’ he gives me the once-over with his eyes ‘… beautiful.’
‘Thanks.’ Heat rises up the back of my neck. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself.’
‘I’m so sorry I’m late. Mrs Pearson rang and I had to check in on Ruby on my way.’
I wave my hand dismissively. ‘It’s not a problem. The film hasn’t even started yet.’
‘Shall we?’ He places his hand on the small of my back and guides me towards the door. My skin tingles deliciously beneath his touch. The building is an old hall of some sort. A large open space with a balcony around the edge and a stage at the front. It’s painted in a rich, deep red, and ornate gold patterns punctuate the cream woodwork. The floor space has been filled with sand and colourful striped deckchairs are lined up in rows facing a large projector screen that covers the stage. It’s showing the promo poster for Jaws. We get a pint of lager from the ‘beach bar’ at the back of the hall and go to find our seats.
‘It still terrifies me even now,’ I say, pointing at the poster as we shuffle down the row and take our deckchairs.
‘Tell me about it. I was scared to get into a swimming pool for years after seeing this. I’m hoping my adult rationale will stand me in good stead today.’
An usher comes around handing out pots of cockles. ‘I haven’t had these for years.’ They’re very moreish. As we tuck in, the opening credits start and the room falls dark and silent. I’m trying to concentrate on the film, really I am, but I’m so aware of Edward’s body just a few inches away. I want an excuse to touch him but juggling the cockles and beer makes it (thankfully) impossible.
As the city officials refuse to close the beach and Sheriff Brody is patrolling, the movie stops and the lights come on. A fifteen-minute interval is announced.
‘Fancy an ice cream?’ Edward asks.
‘It would be rude not to.’
There’s a vintage ice-cream van parked in the back corner that I hadn’t noticed when we came in. There’s even a fish and chips stand, a counter selling sticks of rock and a couple of those coconut shy stalls.
‘I’ll get the next round in and see you back at the seats,’ I say leaving Edward at the ice-cream van.
He returns carrying two cones with raspberry sauce drizzled on.
‘Yum. Gimme.’ I make grabby hands. ‘This is perfect, thank you, Edward.’
‘It’s perfect because you’re here,’ he says with intent. My chest feels light with giddiness. There’s a gentle buzz of excited chatter in the air and the beer has given me a heady feeling but even now, here with Edward, everything is underpinned by a feeling that we’re complicating things beyond our means. He cups my face with his free hand and kisses me on the cheek.
The feeling lingers even after he pulls away. Before I have chance to respond, the lights fade and the music starts to play. The deckchairs don’t make it easy to hold hands or anything like that but they’re close enough I can rest my head on Edward’s shoulder. I’m not sure if it’s a bit much for a first date but the beer gives me a boldness I don’t usually have. I hold my breath as I do so and exhale softly when Edward rests his head on mine. For the next hour, I stay in the same position, not daring enough to move. It’s the first affectionate contact I’ve had in a long time and I don’t want it to end. By the time the film finishes, my entire right-hand side is as numb as a block of wood.
As the lights come on, it’s Edward who shifts gently. He slides his shoulder from under my head and turns to face me. ‘This has been great fun but I don’t feel like we got to spend much time together and it is our first official date. How about a drink? If it’s still nice out I know a great bar with loads of outside seating.’
I fizz with excitement because I don’t want the night to end yet either. ‘Sounds wonderful.’
It’s a short walk under the early evening sun. A
s our arms swing in time with our steps, Edward’s fingers graze mine. It happens a few times until he takes hold of my hand. Now we’re walking hand in hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world if you ignore the crazy stomach-fluttering I have going on.
‘We’re here,’ he says, gesturing to the bar. He wasn’t kidding about the large outdoor seating area. There’s an energetic buzz of chatter and it sort of looks like Oktoberfest but with less lederhosen and dirndls and more Abercrombie and Fitch.
I order a glass of rosé because I’ve reached ‘peak beer’. If I have any more I’ll be effervescent, to say the least. The tables are all long wooden benches with tall stools. I manage to find two stools next to one another so climb onto one and put my bag on the other. It’s a squeeze but it doesn’t matter. I check my phone and there’s just a message from Janey asking if my drinks with Emily are going okay. I get a pang of guilt over lying to her but I’m not ready to talk about this yet. It’s too new; too fragile.
‘I got you a large because the bar was four people deep.’ Edward has a bag of dry-roasted peanuts in his mouth so his words are all through gritted teeth.
‘Okay.’ I clench my own teeth and mimic him.
‘Hey, if you carry on you’re not getting your hands on my nuts!’ He says it so loud a few people turn.
‘Edward!’ I hiss, as my cheeks flush.
‘It’s okay, there’s not a bloke here who doesn’t want his nuts handling.’
‘Right! That’s enough.’ I give him a mock-stern glare.
‘Sorry, you started it. Anyway, would you like a peanut?’
‘I would, thank you.’ I tear open the bag and split the side so we can share easily.
There’s a vibrating sound and Edward takes his phone out of his pocket and glances at the screen before shoving it back in his pocket.
‘You can answer it. I don’t mind.’
‘I mind. It’s Stacy. She’s already sent me three text messages asking if I want to meet up. She’s exhausted the meal, drinks, walk scenarios so she’s probably ringing to suggest a joint bungee jump or something.’
‘That could be fun,’ I say diplomatically.
Edward rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t encourage this; in fact … I’m going to tell her I’m on a date.’
I freeze. ‘Don’t tell her who you’re with. Please.’
‘All right. I’m not that embarrassing, am I?’ He laughs but I want to make sure I haven’t hurt his feelings.
‘I just haven’t told anyone about this. Not until I know what we’re doing.’
He nods in agreement. ‘That’s fair.’
‘And besides that, I’ve seen Fatal Attraction and Stacy has a rabbit and … I just don’t know what she’s capable of.’
‘Hmm, well …’ He laughs. ‘No, she’s a sweet person really. A salt-of-the-earth type who’s probably just too big a character for the village of Crinkly so people don’t understand her.’
I sip my wine to swallow down the guilt I’m feeling. ‘Ahh, you’re right. I feel awful now – I was only joking about the Fatal Attraction thing.’
‘I know. Don’t feel bad. I’m the one who should feel bad. I thought I was helping by spending time with her. I gave her a space to be herself when the village wrote her off as “wacky”; now she’s developed this misplaced crush on me or whatever.’ Edward’s cheeks colour. He’s practically squirming at the discomfort of someone liking him. It makes me all the more attracted to him.
‘That’s a really sweet thing to have done,’ I say, covering his hand with mine. ‘I can see why she likes you so much.’
‘Yeah, well … I put a word in with Dave at the bar and he’s thinking of asking her out. I can tell she likes him and it turns out he’s had a massive crush on her for a while so perhaps I’ve been standing in the way of them all this time.’ His eyes crinkle at the corners as he laughs softly.
‘You’re a good man.’
He looks me in the eyes and leans towards me, slowly, his face stopping inches away from mine. The fresh scent of the aftershave on his skin hits me as I close the distance, pressing my lips against his. They’re cool from the beer glass.
‘I could do that all day,’ Edward says, resting his forehead on mine. ‘It’s even better when you don’t run away after.’
I bat him playfully on the leg. ‘Hey, I wore flat shoes for a reason.’
‘Please don’t leave me here. That big bloke over there keeps looking at me.’
I glance around to humour him. I thought Edward was joking but there’s a redheaded mountain of a man on the next table who is, in fact, staring at Edward.
‘What did you do, put his iguana to sleep? He looks like he wants to kill you.’
‘I know. I think I knocked into him at the bar – I said sorry. Can we go?’ There’s humour in his tone still but I can sense an underlying nervousness and nod.
‘Drink up then.’ It’s starting to spit with rain anyway. The evening is still warm and most punters are undeterred but this is Manchester – a downpour could be imminent.
A few minutes later and right on cue, there’s a roar of thunder and the heavens open but even this doesn’t deter the look of hate from Edward’s new enemy. We make a speedy exit running hand in hand whilst I hold my cardigan above my head. When we’re out of the bar’s outdoor seating area Edward stops and starts laughing. ‘God, I’ve never felt so uncomfortable.’
He pulls me into his body. His shirt is cold and wet from the rain; every nerve ending under my warm skin reacts individually. Gently, he runs his hand through my soggy hair, tucking it behind my ear, then places his finger beneath my chin, tilting my head gently so that my mouth meets his. We fall into a blissful rhythm, exploring each other’s mouths. He runs his hands down the skin of my arms as raindrops continue to pelt us. After a few moments, he pulls away, popping our little private bubble.
‘You’re freezing! I’m a terrible date – I don’t even have a jacket to give you. Come on, I’ll get you home.’
To be honest, I could have withstood the cold, as the heat raging through the inside of my body kept the cold on the surface of my skin. Now we’ve stopped kissing, it’s seeping in and I start to shiver. I let Edward lead me to the road where some black taxis are lined up and I think he’s going to ask for the station but instead he gives an address in Crinkly. I look at him, surprised.
He holds his hands up. ‘Only if you want to? It’s still early and I thought we could have a warm drink and dry off. I can drop you home if you prefer?’
I shake my head. Seeing Edward’s house is strangely appealing. Despite all the time we’ve spent together, he is still an enigma to me and I definitely don’t want this night to end.
Chapter 38
The cab pulls up outside a gorgeous rust-brick cottage. In the dusky light, I can just about make out that there’s nothing but open fields and the odd tree around. A low, brick wall wraps the front garden and there’s a green wooden gate leading to a path that cuts across the large front lawn and leads up to the front door. He pays the cab driver and opens the door, holding out a hand to help me out.
‘Is this your house?’ I ask, not even trying to conceal my awe. Houses aren’t exactly cheap in this part of Cheshire and without stereotyping, I’d guessed by his battered old Ford Focus and the dated décor at the vet’s that the practice wasn’t as lucrative as one might expect.
‘No, I just thought we’d try the door and see if we can sneak in.’
‘Funny,’ I say drily.
‘Sorry. Yes, it’s mine – it was my mum and dad’s house. I grew up here but Mum died and then it was just me and Dad for some time. I did live in a rental for a while but when Dad died I inherited this place. I’ve not done much to it.’ He unlocks the door, which is painted the same green as the gate, and gestures for me to go in.
The hallway is cream with an oak floor. There are oak doors leading off in three directions: left, right and straight ahead.
‘Head straight down the hall t
o the kitchen,’ he says. His fingers work the buttons on his shirt and I can’t help but let my eyes linger a tiny bit too long. His torso is pale and firm-looking with a fine sprinkling of hair, darkening towards his navel. He glances up and catches me looking and I turn my head away so fast I crick my neck but not before I notice the smile playing on his lips.
‘Shall I make us a drink?’ I ask, making my way to the kitchen.
‘Please, I’ll have a coffee – everything you need is near the kettle.’
The kitchen is a country-style. The solid wooden cupboards and marble counters look built to last. The entire kitchen is spotless and he doesn’t even have a pile of pots in the sink or on the drainer. There are three labelled jars by the kettle; one each for sugar, tea and coffee. I fill the kettle and wait for it to boil. The room is a large space with a slate-grey tiled floor, an island in the centre and a big wooden kitchen table on the other side. There’s an oversized clock on the wall by the table and double French doors to the right leading into the night.
‘I brought you some dry clothes if you want them.’ Edward is leaning in the doorway. He’s towel-dried his wet hair and it’s darting off in all directions. He’s thrown on black joggers and a plain white T-shirt; in his hand are some novelty Christmas pyjamas.
‘Sorry, I’m not being presumptuous,’ he says. ‘Your dress is wet. I mean, you’re welcome to stay over. I have a guest room but I’m happy to call you a cab if that’s what you want.’
‘The pyjamas are great, thank you.’ I walk over and take them from him and kiss him gently on the cheek. He points me in the direction of the downstairs loo, just off the hallway. As I’m heading there, I pause.
‘Edward, there’s something I’ve not told you about me.’ I glance down at my hands, clutching the pyjamas tightly.
He frowns in a way that makes him look worried.
‘It’s embarrassing more than anything.’
‘You can tell me anything.’ He walks over and places his hands on my shoulders.
The Single Mums' Book Club Page 20