Page 15 of The Meet Queue-t

I do my best to recover with a mouthful of food. “It was a very difficult situation for a lot of people.”

Her eyes are bright under the streetlamps as she looks at me. She might be the wrong side of sixty, but nothing about her bearing or words makes her feel elderly. “Politician, areyou?”

“I mean . . .” I fumble for the words. “It’s a big deal. She was the Queen. A load of people looked up to her, and she’s our longest reigning monarch. A constant for so many people.”And death is sad, I want to say, but from her expression, she would laugh in my face. Death is our only guarantee—although the hows, whys, and whens are always an unknown.

“She was old.” She stamps her walking stick against the stone with aclackto emphasise her point. “Old people die. I hope my nephew doesn’t cry like that when I’m gone. I had a good life and so did she—a long, healthy life, which is more than a lot of us can boast.”

“Yes, but . . . Does that mean people aren’t allowed to grieve?”

“He didn’t even know her.” After another clack of her stick and an appraising gaze, she holds out her hand. “Thelma.”

“Tessa.”

“Short for anything?”

“Just Tessa.”

“Hmm.” She gives me a nice, firm shake and drops my hand again. I have a brief, hideous worry I was sweaty, but she doesn’t wipe her palm against her trousers.Phew. “I like your hair.”

It’s always a toss-up with old people if they’ll like or hate it, and I touch the messy waves self-consciously. Enough time has passed since this morning that even though I brushed it and did my best to be presentable, that’s long gone. “Thanks.”

“Your boyfriend is a real gentleman.”

“What?” I glance over to where she’s gesturing with her stick—that thing’s purpose seems to be as an aid to her speech, not her balance—and see Oliver giving his blanket to the old couple ahead of us.

Seriously, what does this man eat? Why is he sogood? I feel like it should be a trap, except he notices me staring and gives me a little wave, and my heart flutters.

It. Flutters. Not just because I find him attractive, but because . . .

Oh no.

No, no, no, no. Absolutely not.

After Brandon broke my heart so spectacularly, I wrapped the remains in barbed wire. No one was getting in—I made sure of it. Never say never, but I didn’t think I’d be ready any time soon. A crush, yes. One of those adorable ‘he’s hot and I’d like to kiss him’ crushes that doesn’t mean anything, sure. But notfeelings.

Only along came Oliver with his muffins and hugs, and my heart has put itself back together enough to flutter.

But I’m being ridiculous. So what if he’s adorable and sweet and everything Brandon wasn’t? So what if I want to grin like an idiot every time I see him smile? We’re just two ships in the night. Tomorrow, we’ll go our separate ways. This doesn’t have tomeananything.

Thelma doesn’t seem to notice my crisis. “Where’d you find him?” she asks, chuckling. “I tell you, love, I’ve been looking for a man like that all my life.”

I’m still staring at Oliver as I say, “Why, didn’t you ever marry?”

“Do I look like a woman who married?” she demands. “No man ever caught me long enough to tie me down.”

I think Thelma might just be my hero. “You weren’t tempted to settle down even once?”

“Once,” she admits, and like a habit, she rubs her third finger, right where a ring would sit if she had one. I had a ring there too, once. “I thought he was the one.”

“What happened?”

“I woke up and realised he wasn’t half as good as I wanted him to be, and I wasn’t prepared to settle for anything other than the best.” She offers me another pork pie. “Eat up before you waste away.”

There’s absolutely no chance of that, but I take it anyway, because I’m pretty sure she’ll hit me with that stick if I don’t. “Do you regret it? Not marrying him?”

“No point in regretting the past, love. Only thing you can do is look to the future. Though I’ll tell you this for free—I might have regretted it if I’d managed to get me a man of that calibre.” She smacks her lips, which is wholly inappropriate given he’s young enough to be her son. “He’s been watching you walk around over here. Don’t you think it’s time to go back to him?”

“What about you?” I ask.

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