I nodded and gave a wan smile. Yep, that was him. This kind of man who asks loads of questions – who comes over like a sensitive kind of guy, who really wants to get to know you, you think. You’re right; he does. And then he uses what he knows against you. ‘Don’t ever fall in love,’ he joked with me once. ‘It makes you too vulnerable.’
‘You want someone who’s nice, funny, caring, a bit mad…’ Emma mused. ‘Someone a bit like me.’ She cocked an eyebrow suggestively.
‘You’re forgetting I’ve sat in your bathroom when you’ve been shaving your legs,’ I pulled a face. ‘Sorry. You’ve gone and spoiled the mystery now.’
‘Ah. Shame.’
‘Anyway. What time was your dinner date?’
‘Bugger!’ She leapt up and then glanced around, giggling. ‘Oops! Was that a bit loud?’
‘Go on,’ I shook my head laughing. ‘Have a lovely time.’
‘But what about you?’ She looked genuinely concerned.
‘I am going to spoil myself, actually.’ I gave her a snooty look. ‘I’m going to go back to the hotel, have a long bath with bubbles and possibly a glass of wine, and then order the nicest room service meal that our meagre expenses allowance can stretch to. And then, finally, as an end to a perfect evening, I shall get into bed and watch reality shite on TV to make me feel better about my own shite reality. What could be nicer?’
She looked relieved. ‘Sounds good. See you then.’ She bent to kiss me goodbye.
‘Have fun,’ I grinned, watching her scurry happily towards the door, peering into the street for a second before pulling out her umbrella.
The smile fell from my face. I picked up my drink and drank the rest of it slowly. I watched the gay yellow and blue stripes of her brolly bob past the window and felt my heart contract. I wasn’t going to do anything of the sort. I was probably going to go back to the hotel, type up the notes from my meeting with Simon Gould, and then send them to Viv. I was even going to say in the email that I thought Gould was ‘over familiar’ and I believed it would be more appropriate if a man dealt with him from now on. That would wipe the smirk off his face. It was just a shame I wouldn’t get a chance to see it.
Gathering my things together, I picked up my briefcase and glanced up as the door pushed open. A man and a woman clattered in, all breathless and giggly, their coat shoulders darkened with rain. A memory of me and Dan caught in a rainstorm suddenly ached as a brilliant flash of lightening lit the doorway and a gust of wet whistled through the gap. I was going to get soaked but I didn’t care. I stood, pulling on my coat and wondering if I had my umbrella. I stepped back.
‘Arrgh!’
My heel trod heavily into someone as I barged awkwardly into the poor person standing behind me.
‘Oh God! I’m so sorry!’ I wheeled round. ‘I didn’t know you were—’
The man was pulling a tortured comic face, and I realised with a jolt of embarrassment who it was.
Mr Lopsided.
He smiled his funny smile. ‘I was going to say, “don’t worry, I’ve got another,” but—’ He gazed down at his shoes and my eyes followed his. There was a definite dented scuff mark on the toes of both.
I looked up, horrified. ‘Oh hell, I’m so sorry!’
His eyes swivelled sideways and I realised he was holding out a half empty beer glass with a large brown stain seeping slowly into the cuff of his shirt.
‘Oh God! Have I done that?’ It was a ridiculous question and one I clearly knew the answer to.
‘Please don’t apologise. It was an accident—’ he attempted to shake off the worst of it. It wasn’t working. His eyes caught mine and he grinned. ‘You caught me good and proper! I have to give you that.’
His laughing eyes were the colour of newly burned ash. I must have looked mortified, but he only shook his head. ‘Seriously, it’s not a huge problem, but would you do me a very big favour?’
‘Of course, of course,’ right now I would do anything he asked.
‘Would you look after this…’ he put what remained of his pint on the table. ‘… And this…’ He peeled off his jacket and shook it out, peering at the wet sleeve suspiciously before laying it on the back of the chair. ‘I think my shirt bore the worst of it. Please don’t feel bad… it’s honestly no big deal but if I could just rinse it now, maybe I won’t have to smell like a brewery all evening?’ He smirked and began to unbutton the soggy cuff.
‘Yes! Absolutely!’ I pulled off my coat and it came away with the sleeve inside out. ‘No problem. Take as long as you like.’ I sat awkwardly on the edge of the seat, not knowing where to look as he wandered off. I didn’t know what to do with myself: putting my elbow on the table and then taking it off again – I didn’t dare watch the door of the Gents in case that just looked weird too, so I pointedly stared at the floor. Eventually he appeared, clutching a wad of paper towel and dabbing at his wrist. I immediately stood up, far too hastily and then immediately thought that came over as rude.
‘Are you heading off?’ The wet stained cuff sagged horribly against his wrist. ‘It still looks a bit dodgy out there—’ he dipped his head and peered through the window.
‘Yes… I mean no… I’m—Oh gosh, look… Umm… Could I offer the cost of the dry cleaning or something? It looks a bit—’ I gestured weakly. ‘Is it ruined?’
‘No, no, it’s perfectly fine – Absolutely no professional assistance required—’ he wrinkled his nose as he sniffed at his sleeve. ‘Mmm… I’ve gone from Black Sheep bitter to a very pungent grapefruit and pot pourri. Maybe I should have stuck with the beer…’
He saw the look on my face. ‘Oh look, I’m joking! I’m joking! Please! Think no more of it… and seriously if you don’t have to be anywhere important, you might think—’ He nodded over. The rain was twisting in skeins down the glass, with an occasional gusting splatter that sounded like thrown gravel.
‘So do you?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Have to be somewhere?’ I realised he was smiling.
‘No.’
‘I’m Paul, by the way.’ He held out his hand, ‘Oh! Mind the sog.’
The heat of it was warm and welcoming and I managed a smile. ‘And I’m Lucy.’
‘I think I might just get another drink,’ he eyed his dreg-filled glass ruefully.
‘Oh yes!… No! Let me get that.’ I fumbled for my bag and found my purse, ‘It was Black Sheep, you said?’
‘Sure was. You’ll have one with me though, won’t you?’
‘Well, I shouldn’t…’
There was a clatter as the barmaid collected a clutch of glasses from the next table. ‘I wouldn’t think about going out there if I were you. Brrrr! Orrible!’ She grinned at both of us. ‘I’d stay here in the warm.’
I paused. ‘Okay then… Thanks.’
‘What are you thanking me for, I thought you were buying?’ He arched a look and his face went from unconventional to attractive, all in the space of a grin.