Page 51 of Love at First Sight

‘Make an excellent T-shirt slogan.’

‘If I had a car, I’d make it into a bumper sticker.’

‘You don’t drive?’

‘I’m from London, of course I don’t drive.’

Cal nods. ‘That’s why I’m behind the wheel when we visit Ali?’ he asks. My tummy does a giveaway somersault.So you can get engaged, yes, I think, and I smile quickly to hide the thoughts I’m not allowed to give away.

‘I can make alternative arrangements …’ I begin. ‘If it’s trouble. We were going to get the train originally …’

Cal looks alarmed. ‘No!’ he says, quickly. ‘God, I’m excited, if anything. I love a good road trip. Snacks, music, I Spy …’

‘I’m not so hot on music, unless early Britney Spears is your jam, which I’m assuming it isn’t.’

‘I could dig Britney,’ Cal counters. ‘Don’t put me in a musical box.’

I make a face. ‘What’s your favourite song from the first album?’ I ask, and I’ve caught him out. He opens his mouth, closes it, bites down on his lip and then says, ‘I said Icoulddig Britney. Not that I already do.’

I shake my head. ‘You take music, because I’m easy,’ I instruct. ‘But snacks for a long journey? I specialise in train journey snacks, so I’m looking to branch out to car journey picnics. I shall relish the opportunity to impress us both.’

‘You’ve got yourself a deal,’ Cal says. ‘Of course I have to insist that if Henry gets juice boxes, I get juice boxes. I want to make that clear.’

‘It’s a Fruit Shoot or nothing,’ I say. ‘But you can choose the flavour.’

‘Fair.’

‘Good.’

‘Good.’

We look at each other. Sometimes, before I remember, talking with him feels as easy and natural and full of promise as it did that day by the river.

This should be a something, I think, before I can stop myself.

Cal’s eyes soften, and I could swear he’s thinking the same thing.

‘I don’t suppose you want to grab dinner, do you? I’m starving,’ he says. ‘I was thinking fish and chips. I’ve got a real craving.’

My instinct is to say no, but now he’s said fish and chips I am already salivating. Who has ever been known to turn down the chippy? I look at my watch.

‘No pressure,’ he says, quickly, and I make a choice.

‘I have about forty-five minutes,’ I tell him, which isn’t true, because Thom picked Henry up again today, but it feels prudent to put a limit on us spending time together. ‘I can run to the offie for a couple of beers? If you do the chip shop? I’ll have a small haddock, small chips, large mushy peas.’

‘And I’ll have Peroni, please,’ Cal says with a smile. ‘Meet you back here in ten?’

‘Done.’

I’m quick to get the drinks, so am back before Cal. India has already left, late to meet her almost-girlfriend for supper, though it killed her to go when she was within spitting distance of a Cal interrogation. She was ice-cold when I introduced them. I think she’s made her opinion quite clear.

I lay out on the grass to look at the sky, and think,Is this bad?I have the angel on my shoulder saying of course it is, I promised to keep my distance. And then the devil on the other says,What? It’s just chips in the park. It’s just friendship. Nothing physical is happening.Urgh, nothing physical is happening. Of course it never will. I would truly, honestly, seriously never cross that line, I swear on Henry’s life. But to sit in the early evening sun with a new friend who happens to be dating my boss, clinking beer bottles to toast an exciting new venture? That’s not too bad. Is it?

We eat. We drink. We laugh about stupid stuff that doesn’t even really make sense. We finish our beers and then lie back, next to one another, arms by our sides. Our fingers accidentally brush as we get comfortable and it makes my whole body stiffen. I never thought I’d be capable of this, of walking so close to the line. I want to stop, I do.

But I also don’t want to.

‘You’ve gone quiet,’ Cal says, voice a murmur. He looks at me, and from where we lie, when I turn to him our noses almost touch, we’re that close.Is this what it would be like to share a bed?

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