She swung back in. “Oh, for goodness sake.” Her purse was still on the little windowsill by her front door, and she nearly dropped it as she stuffed it into her pocket. Wobbly legs descended the stairs two at a time. She managed to get out the side door and into the taxi without falling over her bootlaces.
The driver entered Anna’s address into his device as Ollie fastened her seat belt and leant against the backrest, groaning. Usually a Saturday evening was filled with cleaning and vacuuming.
To calm her nervous, restless energy, she went over the list in her mind: She’d managed to clean the bathrooms—both the small toilet in the shop and her main one in her flat—and both kitchens. The vacuum had skimmed through all her rooms, and she’d stripped and remade her bed with fresh sheets. Not that I’m expecting anything. Not bad, she thought, considering the fact she wasn’t often out of the flat before eight to meet Matthew and that her hurried cleaning tonight had caused a terrible amount of sweat, resulting in an unplanned shower, resulting in her being late for the taxi. She would still make it on time.
When the taxi pulled up to a nice terraced house—the front garden neat but showing the signs of winter—Ollie knew they were at the correct address. She asked the driver to wait and forced herself to walk slowly up Anna’s path to her front door. No need to seem too eager, or as if she’d run the entire way.
A young woman answered the door.
Ollie smiled at how similar Bethany was to her mother in appearance, down to the striking green eyes. “Hi,” Ollie said after a beat, inwardly shaking herself and trying to smile in a way that didn’t look terrified. Or terrifying. “I’m…” She swallowed. “I’m Ollie.”
“I’d never have guessed.” Bethany stepped back. “Suppose you can come in.”
“Thanks.” Ollie stepped into the hallway, so big compared to her own digs and wonderfully warm. She could see a dark-coloured telephone seat next to the coat rack and a stylish number of prints hung on various walls.
Bethany shouted for her mother and then stood, arms folded. “Where are you taking her?”
“Um…to…” Ollie’s gaze darted up and down, looking through doors and searching for Anna. She felt as if she were having her barracks inspected and as if she should stand up straight and salute. She’s scarier than my old sergeant major. “To Dulcie’s. That little Italian—”
“Satisfactory.”
Ollie shrank under her critical gaze.
“But don’t let her have too much wine.”
Wow. “Uh, I won’t.”
“And what time will you be back?”
This is like a teenager being interrogated by the parent of someone she’s taking out.
“Um…I’m not sure.”
“Make sure she texts me when she knows. I don’t want to have to stay up if you’re going to be out really late.”
“I’ll try.”
Luckily for Ollie, Anna arrived in a cloud of subtle perfume. She grabbed her coat, her eyes glinting at her daughter.
Ollie caught a peek of a very flattering top before Anna’s coat hid the garment and her curves.
“I hope you’re not interrogating my friend, Beth?”
“Me?” Bethany made a valiant effort to look shocked. “Would I?”
Anna smiled at her daughter and pulled her close, kissing her cheek. “Of course you would.”
Bethany’s face spread into a smile.
“I’m to make sure you let Bethany know when you’ll be home,” Ollie said. Must get into the daughter’s good books.
Anna raised her eyebrows at Bethany.
“What?” Bethany said. “I have work to do tomorrow. Don’t want to be waiting up until whatever time you decide to stagger in.”
“Fine,” Anna said, sliding her handbag over her shoulder, her coat already pulled tight and her scarf tucked securely under the collar. “I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”
“Much appreciated.” Bethany gave Ollie one last look up and down before sauntering out of the hallway.
Ollie relaxed a little.
“Come on, then, show me your wheels,” Anna said, pushing her house keys into her handbag and then reaching for the door handle.
“Actually, I haven’t driven here,” Ollie said as they stepped out into the night.
“Oh,” Anna said, frowning. “I distinctly remember you offering me a lift to wherever you’d chosen for dinner.”
“Dulcie’s…and I came in a taxi,” Ollie said, walking ahead of Anna towards the gate. “Sorry if that’s presumptuous of me, but I do envisage wine featuring quite heavily in the festivities.” Bethany just said not too much wine.
Anna barked out a single laugh and touched Ollie’s arm. “Sound like a good plan.”
They sat next to one another in the back seat. Ollie instructed the driver where to go. It was only a few miles to the restaurant.
It was dark already, being nearly the beginning of December, and Ollie caught Anna glancing at her too. A couple of times Anna lifted her hand, but each time she plopped it back down in her lap.
Ollie’s heart raced. Chill out. We’re just in a taxi on the way to dinner.
When they arrived at the restaurant, they got out on either side. Anna rummaged in her handbag as if to get out some money, but the taxi sped away. Confusion flashed through her expression.
Ollie put a hand to her wrist. “Credit card, prepaid.” She enjoyed the O shape Anna made with her lips.
But then someone shouted Anna’s name behind them, and they both spun around.
A man with an older lady on his arm walked slowly up the pavement towards them. They were dressed in posh clothes. The smile on the man’s face looked hard and maybe even cruel.
Ollie was immediately on alert and gripped Anna’s wrist where she still held it.
The man looked between Anna and Ollie and then stuck a hand out to Ollie, his grin widening. “I’m Liam. Nice to meet you.” He made it sound anything but.
Ollie looked at him and then looked at his hand. So this is the famous tosser, Liam.
Anna relinquished her wrist from Ollie’s grip and stepped towards Liam, her arms folded. “I’m busy, Liam, and as far as I can remember, I told you not to call me anymore.” Her voice turned into a hiss.
“You were quick,” he snarled, looking Ollie up and down. “She’s on the rebound, you know.”
Ollie set her jaw and glanced at Anna, whose face was as red as her coat. Ollie cursed inwardly at the way Anna was looking at the ground. “Doesn’t bother me. Just out for a nice dinner.” She tilted her chin upwards.
Liam swayed, and Ollie wondered if he’d been drinking. “Shame you never got to say goodbye properly to my mother.” He pushed his companion forward and held out his hand. “No time like the present. Perhaps now would be a good time to explain why you cost me my job?”
Anna and Liam’s mother stared at one another. Ollie felt an almost overwhelming urge to laugh.
This is surreal.
“Margaret,” Anna said, lowering her head.
“Anna, dear.” Liam’s mother gave him a look, her stance becoming more upright and assertive. “The play won’t wait for us,” she said and grabbed his arm with a white-knuckled hand, pulling him back the way they had come.
Incredulous, Ollie watched them go until she realised Anna was shivering a bit. She took a chance and rubbed Anna’s arm.
“I’m so sorry,” Anna said, shaking her head slowly.
“Not your fault.” She stilled her hand but left it there. The wool of Anna’s coat was scratchy against her palm but she didn’t mind. “I have met dickheads before.”
Anna huffed out a laugh and then smiled up at her. Ollie’s stomach felt warm as Anna’s hand slipped into the crook of her elbow, steering them across the wide pavement and towards the entrance to the restaurant. She let go as th
ey went in through the door, and an Italian front-of-house staffer greeted them, took their coats, and led them to a table.
Heart still thumping with adrenaline, Ollie realised she would have forcibly removed him into a taxi if Liam had tried anything. Her brain concocted a scene where she’d kick him in the gut and sweep Anna up into her arms to carry her away, both of them laughing.
Nice idea, but with my broken body, entirely impractical. She sighed. Also cruel as hell. The guy probably doesn’t deserve actual physical violence, however nasty he’s been to Anna’s son.
Ollie bit her lip as they approached a small table to one side that held a single rose in a tiny vase, cloth napkins, and shiny silverware. Was it too romantic?
The smile Anna sent her as they took their seats made Ollie relax. She pointed to Anna when the man offered them the wine menu.
An amused but pleased look shone from across the table. Once the man had left them with their menus, Anna caught Ollie’s eye. “This is beautiful,” she said.
Ollie shrugged. “Seems silly to go somewhere substandard when neither of us has very many days off.”
“Yes, with all the lesson planning and marking I have to do, and the book clubs, and you working six days a week, I’m amazed we managed it.”
Ollie studied Anna across the table. The encounter with Beth before they had left Anna’s house hadn’t worried her—of course Anna’s daughter would feel protective of her mother. They’ve been a family unit for years.
The tosser ex-boyfriend was a different matter. The things he’d said had unnerved her, especially his comments regarding Anna being on the rebound. Is she? Am I just someone to latch on to after the unhappy end of a relationship?
But that didn’t sound right. She felt comfortable with Anna—they were two adults sharing a meal, plain and simple. None of the nerves she would expect if she really believed Liam’s views were present. Her opinion of Anna hadn’t wavered. I still think she’s fantastic.
And I really must stop thinking like that. Friends. Maybe. Hopefully.
Emerald eyes gleamed in the soft light of the restaurant, and one of Anna’s forefingers ever so slightly caressed the thick, shiny card the wine list was printed on.
The waiter came over then and leant between them to light the candle beside the rose.
Anna dove into the wine list.
The shiny fork by her hand felt terribly interesting to Ollie for a while. She shifted it back and forth with her fingertip. “What looks good to you?” she asked, glad Anna was in charge of that particular decision. I need to do some research into wine if I’m ever going to have a proper conversation with her about it.
“Hmmm. They have a good Merlot on offer. Always a plus.” One eyebrow rose in query.
Ollie nodded. “Whatever you like, comrade.”
“I’m not drinking the whole bottle,” Anna said with a giggle. “Want to share?”
Ollie pursed her lips, pretending to think about the issue. Then she nodded.
“Excellent.” Anna sat back and gestured to the waiter. She ordered them a bottle of her preferred Merlot and a jug of water.
When he came back with their wine, he poured a little into Anna’s glass, having apparently cottoned on to the fact she was the one in charge.
The taste of it made her smile. After he filled both their glasses, she patted the table to indicate he could leave the bottle. “So”—she turned to Ollie—“it was busy today at the shop?”
“Fairly,” Ollie replied, sipping her own wine. “Oh that’s really lovely. You have good taste.” She swallowed. Was that flirty? Did she care if it was? “I know literally zilch about wine, I’m afraid.”
“I’m well aware,” Anna replied with a chuckle.
She changed the subject, noting the slight pinking of Anna’s cheeks. I’ll have to compliment her more often, if it causes that reaction. “People are starting to think about making things for Christmas now.” She pushed a curl of hair that had escaped her tiny ponytail around her ear. “One lady was intent on making some sort of…necklace thing. Out of these huge beads she’d purchased on eBay and lots of bright pink DK.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“I’m still not sure what she meant.” Ollie held her wine glass and her free hand up in a shrug. “I just gave her what she wanted and didn’t ask too many questions.”
Laughter sprang from Anna’s mouth.
Ollie frowned, unsure why Anna was laughing, but then her eyes widened and she nearly choked on her wine as the double meaning occurred to her. “‘Gave her what she wanted.’ Goodness, you have a dirty mind.” Ollie held her temple with her hand and tried not to end up a nervous red-faced wreck.
As their chuckles quietened, their starters arrived. Anna took her first mouthful, and Ollie watched her, enthralled. Anna moaned very quietly, the dip she’d sunk the squid ring into still clinging to her fork.
A shiver ran through Ollie. Instead of staring at Anna’s lips, she pushed a piece of smoked salmon onto the small piece of bruschetta, dripped some of the lemony dressing on top, and popped the whole thing into her mouth.
The taste slid over her tongue, making her groan. She was pleased with herself for her choice of dinner establishment. The food was fantastic.
She was even more pleased about the look on Anna’s face. Is that what desire looks like on her? Perhaps, at least her desire for good food and wine. The small flick of an eyebrow upwards made Ollie smile more.
Well, here goes. Her fingers shaky, Ollie repeated the move: salmon on bread, drizzled with sauce. Then she held it out to Anna, expecting her to grab it herself with her hand. But she didn’t.
Ollie had to swallow and then take a long breath. Anna’s lips had closed around her fingers, ghosting over them as she snatched the mouthful. Anna sat back and put a hand to her lips, her cheeks flushed again, her gaze drifting to her plate. The act rested firmly on the borderline between innocence and something more. Where on the spectrum of affection it landed, Ollie wasn’t sure.
I’m overreacting. It must be the food. She let the breath out slowly.
“Delicious,” Anna said.
Thankfully, Anna used her fork to collect Ollie’s repayment of food, and as Ollie took the food into her mouth, she bravely held Anna’s gaze.
They finished the rest of their starters, which were small but wonderful, with more murmurs of enjoyment.
Ollie placed her cutlery neatly on her plate. Folding her hands in her lap, she looked around, taking in the lilt of the piano music over the stereo, the hum of the other customers, and the tinkling of glasses and cutlery.
“Tell me about places you’ve been,” Anna said.
The change of subject surprised Ollie, and she parted her lips for a moment before answering. “I travelled a lot with the army. So holidays were usually in the UK.” She smiled as she delved into one specific memory. “We did go to the south of France once, with the kids. When they were in junior school.”
“Hotel, or self-catering?”
“Self-catering. We ate out a lot, though—wanted the kids to experience all the delights France had to offer.” She laughed. “Kieran tried snails.”
“Oh, I love escargot,” Anna replied, her face bright. “I love French food. And Italian, Spanish, Indian. Any good food, really.” She looked down at her plate, scraped clean with her fork. “Obviously.”
“I don’t get a lot of opportunity to go out for dinner.” Ollie twisted her mouth, noting Anna’s self-admonishing comment, perhaps about her own curvaceous body. I think she looks amazing. “What with the swimming lessons I teach, and the crochet classes. Whenever I’m off, I tend to spend it with Matthew, and he’s happy with a takeaway.” She shrugged. I am definitely not telling her I have no other friends.
“That’s a shame,” Anna said, a pout on her lips. “We shall have to make this a regular thing.�
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“I’d like that.”
“That is…” Anna sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “That is…you know, if neither of us ends up dating anyone.”
Ollie took in her green eyes, her knitted-together eyebrows. What do I say to that? She blinked as the waiter arrived to clear their plates.
When he departed, Anna was still looking at Ollie, her gaze steady.
“Where did you visit?” she managed in the end. “On holiday, I mean?”
“We managed to take Bethany to various countries across the globe,” Anna replied, her eyes flicking down to her napkin, which lay on her lap.
Why does that seem to make her uncomfortable?
“That’s great,” Ollie replied brightly. “She must have gained loads from experiencing different cultures.”
“She did.” Anna looked up again. “We took her to the US for a few weeks when she was five. Toured the whole of the West Coast. Took in the sites, all the usual places. We went to Bruges and Paris a few times. Rome. Mostly weekend breaks for the cities, just the three of us.”
“Your ex-husband?”
Anna nodded. “In the days when he wasn’t being a…” Anna cleared her throat. “Anyway. Once he was no longer part of our little excursions, Bethany and I visited Madrid, Athens. We did Dublin a few years ago; that was quite fun.” She sighed. “So, since you’ve had the shop?” she asked, smiling at the waiter as he brought their main courses over and poured them some more wine.
Ollie nearly stopped him, nearly said she could do it, but it seemed like second nature to him, so she sat back. She held her glass once it was full and stared into the deep-red liquid.
“I haven’t had a holiday,” she replied, immediately sipping from her glass and very much not looking Anna in the eye.
“At all?”
Grimacing, Ollie shrugged. “No?”
“Well that’s simply no good,” Anna said, picking up her main-course fork, pushing a piece of ravioli across her plate before spearing it and slipping it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed.
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