The thought triggered a spike of panic. She wanted to be brave. She didn’t want to live her life alone because she was too afraid to leave her cottage and go into the world. She had to keep pushing herself out of her comfort zone. Finally, she said, ‘You’re right. I suppose I could …’ Maybe if she and Ethan found themselves alone for a moment at Brenda’s, she could ask him then.
‘Well?’ said Alex, and nodded at her phone. ‘What are you waiting for?’
‘What – now? I can’t!’
‘Why not? Carpe diem! Seize the day. This way you don’t have time to be nervous.’
Her heart was racing so fast it felt like a woodpecker drilling. ‘But what will I say?’
‘Would you like to have children with me?’ He was deadpan, but his eyes danced with humour.
She thumped him playfully.
‘How about “Would you like to go for dinner?”’ he suggested more seriously.
‘He’ll say no, I know he will.’
‘Why?’
‘Because a man like him, he could date anyone he wanted.’
‘But he isn’t. He’s single. And if he says no, so what? You move on, you find someone else.’ His shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug. ‘Do it now, Liberty.’
Do it for the challenge. She took a deep breath and pulled out her phone. ‘Fine. I’ll call him.’ Her hand was trembling. While the phone rang she said, ‘He’s probably out. It’s Saturday night. He’s—’
She was startled when he picked up on the second ring. ‘Ethan?’ The words stuck as her brain took a moment to catch up. ‘It’s – ah – this is Liberty. You know – from the quilting shop, the Button Hole?’
He chuckled. ‘Of course. You’re the only Liberty I know. Good to hear from you. How are things?’
They exchanged a little chit-chat, but Alex motioned impatiently for her to move on. She cleared her throat and mustered all her courage. Her hand was damp as she squeezed the phone. ‘Ethan, I – ah – I just wondered if you fancy going out one evening? We could have a meal or a drink … if you like.’
Her heart beat wildly as she braced herself for his polite refusal. It felt like minutes passed, though it was probably only fractions of a second.
‘That would be great.’ She heard the pleasure in his voice. ‘I’d really like that.’
Relief rushed through her and she smiled. ‘Good.’
‘When were you thinking?’
‘When? Erm …’ That threw her. Alex mouthed, ‘Tomorrow’, but would that make her look too keen? Oh, stuff it. Seize the day, as he’d said. ‘How about tomorrow?’
‘That works for me. Let’s go for dinner. If you text me your address, I’ll pick you up and we can take it from there.’
She put the phone down and beamed at Alex. ‘He said yes! He actually said yes!’
‘Of course he did. No man in his right mind wouldn’t.’
The compliment triggered an explosion of fireworks that only added to her elation. This was such a result! Thanks to Alex she’d got a date with someone she liked. She could really learn from him and his bravery. A thought occurred and her smile slipped. ‘Oh, no! I should have arranged to meet him at the restaurant, not here.’
‘Why?’
Last night’s experience had taught her she needed to be able to get away if necessary. ‘In case it’s a disaster. If he’s driving, he’s in control.’
Alex waved this away. ‘If it’s a disaster, call me and I’ll come and get you.’
‘Like a knight in shining armour,’ she laughed, ‘on a motorbike.’
Sunday, 7 December
Alex padded downstairs, amazed at how well he’d slept last night and how much better his shoulder felt as a result. Surely it couldn’t be because of the hot-water bottle Liberty had insisted he take to bed with him and he’d felt he couldn’t turn down.
She was already in the kitchen and the worktop was covered with open packets, bowls and spoons. She was humming to herself as she lifted a small bowl out of the microwave, and when she saw him she smiled. He noticed the wariness was gone and she was relaxed and comfortable as she pottered about the kitchen. Her hair swung loose and she pushed it back over her shoulder.
‘I’m making waffles,’ she said. ‘Would you like some?’ She poured melted butter into a large bowl filled with other ingredients and stirred.
‘Er – yes, okay.’
She laughed. ‘You don’t sound very sure. They’re delicious, I promise. I’m a bit of a pro. I’ve been making them every Sunday for the last …’, she tilted her head to make a mental calculation, ‘… five years now. The machine was a birthday present from Carys.’
‘Five years, huh? You must like waffles a lot.’
She smiled. ‘I love them. And so does everyone who’s tried them.’
‘How many people is that?’
She thought about it. ‘Carys, and a few of our ex-boyfriends.’
He tried not to laugh. ‘That’s not many.’
‘See how privileged you are?’ She grinned. ‘They make me feel happy. They’re a celebration to mark the weekend. Sundays wouldn’t be the same without waffles.’ She added, ‘And visiting Carys. I always go to see her on a Sunday.’
She gave the mixture a final stir, then checked the waffle machine was hot enough by holding a hand over it. Apparently satisfied, she ladled some of the mixture into it, then set a timer.
‘Do you have bacon and maple syrup?’ He opened the fridge and peered inside.
‘Yes. Bacon’s on the bottom shelf and the syrup is here.’ She reached into a cupboard and pulled out the bottle.
He placed a frying pan on the hob and lit the gas ring. The bacon sizzled as it hit the hot pan. ‘What is it with you and your programme?’ he asked, as he poked the rashers.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You have a time and a day for everything. Waffles on a Sunday, pizza and a film on Saturday, walk the dog at ten o’clock each evening …’
She shrugged. ‘Don’t you have a routine?’
‘No. Every day is different for me.’ He was constantly stepping on and off planes. And in racing, new challenges were always cropping up, which required adjustments either to the bike or to his race plan. His life was about being flexible.
Had been, he corrected himself, and tensed. He picked up a fish slice and pressed the bacon flat, not wanting to think about the monotony that the future held for him now. The hot fat sang and spat.
‘I like routine,’ she confessed. ‘It makes me feel … safe. It’s comforting.’
Alex studied her curiously. She kept her gaze down as she picked up a tea-towel, shook it out and folded it.
‘I know other people find it dull, and I’m trying to shake things up by doing my challenge, but I’ve found that excitement isn’t always a good thing.’
The kitchen became quiet. ‘Carys’s accident?’
She nodded. ‘And when Mum became ill.’
He turned the bacon over, remembering all she’d told him last night about her challenge and her hopes to find a partner. She was so alone in this cottage in the woods. Not that she felt sorry for herself. She was haughty, proud and beautiful, and he was filled with admiration for how she’d challenged herself to be brave.
She said brightly, ‘But you can’t go wrong with a cosy night in – a good film and a quilt to stitch.’
Alex laughed. ‘Did you always like things to be predictable?’
‘Yes. My mum was really scatty, you see, so as soon as I was old enough I took charge.’
‘Scatty?’
‘Disorganised.’ Liberty smiled at the memory. ‘But disorganised like you wouldn’t believe.’
‘Give me an example.’
‘I could give you hundreds. Where to start?’ She thought. ‘Okay, example one.’ She began to tick them off on her fingers. ‘She worked at the high school in town and she would run out of petrol on the way to work because she’d forgotten to fill up.’
He gave the fryin
g pan a little shake and the bacon sizzled. ‘That can happen to anyone.’
‘Yes, but then the same thing would happen the following week. And the one after that. And she could never understand why her boss got so annoyed.’
He put the fish slice down. ‘Ah.’
‘Example two: she was really messy and could never find anything when she needed it. I’d bring home a letter from school for her to sign and she’d lose the letter. I learned to forge her signature so I wouldn’t miss out on school trips.’ She ticked off a third finger. ‘She often went to work with odd socks or even odd shoes. She used to forget to pay the bills and the gas or electricity would be cut off. She was a ball of dizziness,’ her voice softened, ‘but she was also the most loving mum in the world. She always had time for me, to do whatever I wanted – baking, sewing, playing and having imaginary adventures. She was loving but chaotic, so I learned to do things myself early on. I learned to cook so I could make dinner when she forgot. As soon as I could drive, I took over doing the weekly shopping so there was always food in the house. I did the washing and ironing too, and I tidied up.’
‘It sounds like you were a domestic slave,’ he said.
‘Not at all. I did it because I wanted to. I needed things to be ordered and predictable, and the only way to get that was to do it myself.’
‘And now you still like things to be ordered and predictable,’ he observed quietly.
‘Yes.’
Their eyes met and held, and understanding rippled through him.
The timer rang, making them start. ‘The waffles are ready,’ she said, lifting the lid to take a look.
‘So’s the bacon.’
They sat down opposite each other.
‘This bacon’s good,’ she said approvingly. ‘Nice and crispy. And your meal last night was delicious too. When did you learn to cook?’
‘I’ve been living on the road since I was nineteen. I had to be independent from a young age.’
‘I thought someone like you would eat out or buy food in.’
‘Someone like me? You have a low opinion of me, don’t you?’
She grinned.
‘I’ve always preferred to stay in a rented apartment, alone, and look after myself.’
‘That’s admirable. You could have been such a spoiled brat, getting successful so young.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’
His smile faded. ‘My father was the living embodiment of how money and success can rot your soul. I suppose he’s the reason I didn’t go down that route.’
She glanced at him with sympathy, then seemed to remember something. ‘Oh, yes – someone responded to my post about your letters.’
He sat up. ‘What did they say?’
‘Don’t get your hopes up,’ she said quickly. ‘Just that they remembered your dad coming to visit. He was in the area for a few weeks apparently in the run-up to some race.’
‘They didn’t say anything else?’
She showed him the message on her phone. When he’d finished reading, his shoulders slumped. ‘Just a few weeks yet he managed to get someone pregnant.’
‘So do you have any plans for today?’ she asked.
‘I’m seeing Luc and Natasha. You?’
‘I’m going to visit Carys, and tonight I have my date with Ethan.’
‘Is that a tick in your book?’
‘Definitely.’ She drizzled more maple syrup over her waffle. ‘I’m really hoping it will go well. If it does, I might even delete the app. Thank you, by the way, for encouraging me to call him.’
He shrugged. ‘You did it.’
‘But you gave me the confidence to do it.’
‘I’m happy to help in any way I can.’
She hesitated before asking, ‘Why are you helping me so much with my challenge?’
He stopped. The question had him stumped.
She wasn’t a friend, and until a few days ago he hadn’t even known her, so why was he so keen to see her succeed? ‘I – I just want to help …’ Since he wasn’t having any luck finding his half-sister he had time on his hands. Masses of time. Helping Liberty could be a distraction from his own problems.
But wasn’t there something more? When he’d taken her out on his bike hadn’t he derived some satisfaction from it too? She’d gone from disapproving of all fast-moving machines to laughing breathlessly in his ear and he’d felt a ripple of joy. The first glimmer of light in weeks.
‘I can help you,’ he went on. ‘The things you find difficult, I find easy.’
‘Right.’ She was about to say something else, then seemed to change her mind.
‘What?’ he asked.
She eyed him warily. ‘It’s just … I didn’t have you down as the helpful, caring kind, that’s all.’
He was taken aback by this. All his life he’d tried to do the right thing. He’d seen what selfish was like, and he was determined not to be that man. He liked to think that those close to him could depend on him for support of any kind.
She continued, ‘You’ve got to admit, you were quite scowly when you arrived. I’m allairjeek to dogs, I ’ave a ’eadache,’ she said, imitating his deep voice.
‘I am allergic, and I did bang my head,’ he protested. Her laughter was like bells ringing. He smiled. ‘But you’re right. You’ve not seen me at my best.’
‘Or you me. I think we got off to a bad start.’
‘Maybe we should start again.’
Their eyes met and held, and he felt the same kick as he had when he’d done a winning overtake.
Liberty stood in front of her open wardrobe, trying to pick the right outfit for her date with Ethan tonight. The perfect outfit. She pulled out a green, floor-length dress: it was flattering, but too dressy. She didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard, so she put it back, then took out another: too revealing? The next: a bit drab?
Sighing, she stepped back. She hadn’t been this nervous before meeting her other dates, so why was she now? She frowned and looked out of the window at the bare branches of a horse chestnut tree.
There was more at stake tonight. That was why.
She liked Ethan. Really liked him. Although she’d tried to hold it back, hope had unfurled its fresh green shoots and she wanted tonight to go well. That was why her stomach was a cloud of tiny beating wings. She wasn’t sure how she was going to swallow food at the restaurant. What if they got stuck for things to talk about? What if he found her boring?
She paced her room. Perhaps she should call and make her excuses, stick to her usual Sunday-evening routine instead. Think how relaxing it would be to stay in and spend the evening sewing. Familiar. Safe.
But it was lonely on her own, she thought, remembering her birthday. She drew her shoulders back. No, scary as it might seem, she was going to do this.
She picked a burnt-orange velvet dress with a boho skirt and dressed it down with knee-high boots, then tied a little scarf around her neck to complete the outfit. She’d blow-dried her hair for a change, and tried to curl it like Carys used to do for her. It didn’t look as good as when Carys did it, but the big loopy curls fell nicely around her shoulders, softening her face.
When she came downstairs, the clock struck seven thirty. Alex was putting on his leather jacket to go to Luc and Natasha’s for dinner. He frowned when he saw her. ‘You look as if you’re preparing to go to the guillotine. What’s the matter?’
‘Nerves,’ she said. ‘About my date.’
‘Ah, yes.’ His gaze swept over her. ‘You look beautiful.’
Beautiful? Why did he use that word so carelessly? He didn’t mean it, she told herself. He was being polite. Still, she lit up inside like a string of fairy lights. ‘Thanks.’
She jangled her keys and stared at the clock.
‘Why are you nervous? You said he’s a nice guy.’
‘He is. But first dates can be awkward, can’t they?’
‘If it is, then he’s not the one for y
ou.’
She smiled at his dismissive shrug. It felt good to know his number was programmed into her phone and she could call him if there was a problem.
He glanced at Charlie. ‘Would you like me to walk Charlie if you’re not back at ten?’
‘That would be great, thanks.’
The noise of a car pulling up made them both turn.
‘Right. Wish me luck,’ she said.
‘You don’t need luck. Have fun.’ He smiled, and slipped on his helmet as he stepped out into the night.
Ethan got out of the car and walked up to the door to greet her. He looked dashing in a long smart coat and well-polished shoes. ‘Who was that?’ he asked, as Alex roared away.
‘Just my lodger, Alex.’ She locked the cottage and Ethan held open the car door for her. She was impressed by this chivalrous gesture.
But when he got in, he didn’t start the engine. Instead, he turned to her. ‘Before we go any further, there’s something we need to talk about.’
Liberty tensed. Oh, no. Was this when he warned her that he liked her but not in that way? That he’d got a promotion at work and was moving overseas? ‘Erm – okay.’
He seemed to choose his words with care. ‘The thing is, I don’t want to risk spoiling your friendship with Mum.’
Her heart sank. He’d changed his mind. She knew it. Asking him out had been too easy. Now reality was catching up with her. ‘You don’t want to go out tonight?’ she asked.
‘No!’ he said, clearly appalled when she reached for the car door. ‘That’s not what I meant at all.’
‘Then what?’
‘Just that if things don’t work out between us I hope you won’t feel you have to stop visiting Mum.’
Relief flowed through her. ‘Oh. Right. Of course I won’t. Unless she asks me not to, that is.’
‘Right. Good.’ He smiled, his relief obvious, and suddenly she saw how nervous he’d been. Perhaps even more nervous than her.
They settled on a Chinese restaurant he knew, and when they arrived it was quiet, with only two other couples and a family sitting in the corner. They ordered drinks and Liberty opened her menu. The choice was a little overwhelming. When she’d gone for Chinese with Carys they used to share a banquet.
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