Page 25 of Daydreams & Doughnut Cake

Chuckling at their banter, I nodded in agreement. ‘Everyone’s tolerance of spice is different. Two cartons of the chicken dhansak?’

‘Perfect.’

‘So... when do you finish here, Rosie?’ Ivan asked me with a wolfish smile. ‘Can I tempt you out for a drink with me after all your hard labours?’

‘Er, not tonight, Ivan. I’m... er... plucking my eyebrows?’ I grinned up at him, sticking to our usual amusing exchange. It was something we always did now for a joke. Ivan would ask me out for a drink and I’d always come up with an excuse why I couldn’t. (I’d groomed the dog so many times, I was surprised it had any fur left. And I didn’t evenhavea dog!)

He shrugged amiably as he always did. ‘Always worth a try. Maybe one Wednesday you’ll actually say yes.’

Caleb grinned. ‘I wouldn’t hold your breath. Rosie has what’s calledtaste.’

‘Ooh, ouch!’ Ivan pretended to be offended. Then he grinned. ‘Never mind. I’ve got womenclamouringto go out with me so my time’s limited anyway.’

‘Ain’t that the truth, Ivan,’ laughed Katja, appearing beside Caleb. ‘Don’t listen to a word he says, Rosie. The man’s a menace. It’s a different girl every night.’

‘Well, notquiteevery night,’ said Ivan modestly. ‘I need my solo Friday curry evening to recover. Speaking of which, can I have two cartons of your beef madras, please?’

‘Certainly.’

I was still grinning as I placed the cartons in the plastic bag Ivan handed me.

I loved our silly weekly exchanges. Ivan reminded me of someone, although I could never put my finger on who it was. He was obviously damaged goods after splitting with his wife a few months ago, and it seemed he was now on a knee-jerk mission to have as much fun as possible.

I hoped that one day, he’d find someone he liked enough to settle down with...

On the drive home from the market, I found myself thinking about Ivan.

I liked him a lot. He was laid-back, funny and very easy on the eye with his almost black curly hair and eyes the colour of dark chocolate.

He reminded me of Danny, I realised suddenly. That’s who it was!

It wasn’t so much what he looked like. They were both tall with dark eyes and dark hair, although Danny’s hair wasn’t curly. It was sleek and it tended to flop over his forehead, so that he was forever pushing it back. Mark and I had always said Danny reminded us of a young Hugh Jackman.

It was more Ivan’s personality that brought Danny to mind – the similar sunny nature and the wicked sense of humour. And the fact that they both seemed completely at ease in their own skin, which I’d realised was quite rare.

There was one big difference between the two, though.

I would never be able to trust Ivan with my heart – at least not right now, when he was clearly playing the field!

But Danny... well, he was one of the good ones. I’d always known I could trust him and it wasn’t just because he was Mark’s best mate and was therefore extra-nice to me. Danny was like that with everyone. And everyone loved him.

To be fair to Ivan, I didn’t know him at all, really. The banter we exchanged was the extent of our knowledge of one another. Ivan probably had many other good qualities I hadn’t discovered as yet.

But I knew Danny so well, from all those years of friendship and laughter at uni.

He’d been on my mind quite a lot lately. But that was only because after Clare had appeared in the café, so many memories had kept on flooding back... memories of the ‘Famous Five’ all together, having fun.

Looking back, life had seemed so sunny and carefree then – but maybe they were just rose-tinted memories? It was natural to remember the good bits most of all and forget the bad things.

But we were a tight-knit group of friends. No doubt about that. Back then, I would never have believed that one day, we’d be flung far and wide in our grief over the loss of Mark... that the close friendships I’d taken for granted could slip away, almost without me noticing it was happening...

At the nursery, Amelie came running out with her little friend, Dora, and I stood chatting for a while with Dora’s mum, Angela.

I really liked Angela. She was on her own with Dora, having been through an amicable divorce, and we always seemed to have plenty to talk about.

‘Look at those two!’ She grinned over at the two girls, giggling and whispering in a world of their own.

I nodded. ‘They look like they’re plotting something dastardly.’

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