Page 46 of Love or Your Money Back

I take a seat on Ahmet’s chequered picnic blanket and accept his awkward handshake.

‘Wow, Ahmet.’ I gesture to the blanket. ‘You’ve created a real nerd space here. Travel chess, a copy ofThe Catcher in the Ryeand lactose-free cheesecake. I love it.’

Ahmet gives me a big, goofy smile. ‘One tries.’

Freddy hovers above us like an anxious parent.

I look up. ‘You can go now, Freddy.’

Freddy sticks his hands in his pockets and strides back and forth. ‘Look, are you okay without a chair?’

‘Yes, of course I am.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘YES.’ I give him a hard ‘go away’ stare.

Freddy lingers for another few seconds, then strides off.

I arrange myself on the blanket, which is not easy. Tight dresses and lawn sitting do not mix.

‘Well, you look astonishing,’ Ahmet gabbles. ‘Not that the value of a woman should be about what she looks like, of course. Far from it. But personality and good health are often conveyed –’

‘It’s okay, Ahmet,’ I say. ‘I can accept looking astonishing.’

‘So how close are you and Freddy, exactly?’ Ahmet asks.

‘I’d say we’re on our way to becoming friends. Which, believe me, is surprising. We’reverydifferent.’

Ahmet frowns. ‘But only friends? Nothing more?’

‘Nothing more.’

‘Oh! Good.’ Ahmet’s broad shoulders sag with relief. ‘Because I’ve heard the rumours about Freddy Stark. The real-life James Bond, hopping from bed to bed. He certainly has a way with women. Butyou’venever been tempted to have a dangerous liaison with him?’

This should elicit a straightforward, ‘No, he’s not my type.’ But for some reason, I hesitate. In the end I manage, ‘There’s no state that could exist between Freddy and me that would be agreeable to me, other than friendship.’

‘Great!’ Ahmet grabs a contraband Pimm’s can from an insulated rucksack. ‘So listen. Kat. I read up a little on MS and … well, it can be very serious, can’t it? I’m assuming you’re of the relapsing, remitting type, as you seem in perfect health right now.’

I laugh. ‘Yes, generally, I can pass for a normal person.’

‘Do tell me if you’re feeling unwell or uncomfortable,’ Ahmet continues. ‘Especially sitting on the lawn. I have picnic chairs in the car.’

‘That’s very kind of you. Really very kind.’ I nod, throat tight. For some reason, tears come.

‘Kat, are you okay?’ Ahmet leans closer, brown eyes wide and concerned.

‘Fine.’ Blood rushes to my cheeks. ‘Sorry. It’s just … I’m not used to this.’

‘Used to what?’

‘People being kind and considerate and looking after me,’ I stammer.

Ahmet gives me a lovely smile and hands me the cold Pimm’s can. ‘Of course. You’re an empire-builder, like Freddy. Always the one looking after everyone else. But empire builders need support too.’ His hands clasp mine around the cold can. ‘And it would be my privilege to be that support –’

‘Kat?’ Freddy appears by the picnic blanket, hands in pockets.

My head whips up. ‘Whatdo you want, Freddy?’

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