Page 21 of The Winter We Met
Nik and me? I rolled my eyes and went to protest but Seb had already bent down and was singing about cows jumping over moons. I fetched my things and squeezed his shoulder before heading onto the street. Half an hour later I was sitting on the train opposite a man who was playing Christmas music so loud that, despite him wearing earphones, I could hear every word.
I was almost at King’s Cross. Nik had suggested we spend our lunch brainstorming the Christmas party. Tomorrow we’d meet at Gran’s in the evening. I could get there by five. Most residents congregated in the lounge after their tea. Being an assisted living facility, as opposed to a full-blown care home, it meant not everyone there was ill. Residents like Betty were catered for but also those who had simply lost a bit of mobility or no longer wanted the responsibilities that went along with living alone. So whereas Oliver and I slumped in front of our telly at the end of the day, Gran and her friends often sat together chatting, doing crosswords, swapping magazines – and watching dating shows, even Glenda, apparently, although she’d sit at the back and pretend to read a novel.
For a change tonight, though, Oliver and Iwouldbe staying out late. We’dhad words,as Gran would say, again this morning. He’d been at Misty’s late last night so it was the first chance I’d had to tell him the news...
He’d put down the bread knife. ‘What?’
‘Nik – he’s offered to help organise the party.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘Not everyone does something just because they might profit. He’s got a good heart.’
‘How can you be confident of that after knowing him for such a short time?’
‘Haven’t you ever had that instant connection with someone? Felt like you’ve known them for years; that you share the same values?’
‘Sure,’ he said and coloured up. ‘But that doesn’t guarantee a happy ending. I have to be honest, Jess – it’s laudable to think the best of people but I think you’re being a bit naive.’
My palms felt sweaty at the possibility of an argument brewing.
‘It’s plainweird.You know that I think you’re amazing – it takes some people a whole lifetime to hone getting out of emptying the food recycle bin as often as you do…’
‘Idiot.’ My stomach relaxed.
‘But if I was, say, in Sydney for a month, I wouldn’t be sidelined into helping organise a party, when I had the chance to spend my days sampling the sights and night life of that city. I don’t think that makes me a bad person. It makes me normal.’
‘No such thing as normal,’ I said. ‘We’re all different.’
‘True, but doesn’t his behaviour strike you as the slightest bit odd? Even… creepy?’
‘What a horrible thing to say. Can’t you be a little more welcoming? He’s not here for long. I’m sure you wouldn’t feel like this if you met him, so the sooner that happens, the better.’
Buddy’s ears had gone flat at my sharp tone. He never heard raised voices in our flat – not unless he stole a chicken nugget or scratched the furniture. But I felt defensive of Nik – he’d breathed a gust of optimism into Willow Court. Gran texted me today and said she and Pan agreed Nik felt like a friend already.
‘Sounds like a good plan,’ said Oliver and gave a thumbs-up. ‘You know I’d expect no less of you if you thought my latest Tinder meet sounded dodgy.’
‘I can’t remember your last date.’
‘Maybe I’m getting choosy in my old age…’
‘Tonight. Misty’s, seven o’clock. Hold on, I’ll check with Nik.’ I texted him, and after a quick exchange, Nik and I agreed we could finish our day out early and he wasn’t bothered about the short train ride back to London afterwards. Oliver didn’t start his shift until midday, so Buddy only would only have the afternoon on his own until Immy next door came around for a couple of hours to play and take him out for a walk. That would set him up for the evening without me or Oliver.
‘Done,’ I said and put away my phone. ‘There’s no going back now.’
Oliver came over and took my hand. ‘I don’t like it when we disagree, it’s just… guess I feel kind of protective… I mean, we’re good mates, right?’ he hastily added. ‘I feel the same about Buddy.’
‘Wondering if that’s a compliment,’ I replied, smiling.
‘It is.’ His hand dropped away. ‘Sometimes I imagine Mum and Dad being much older… I ask myself if I’ll ever feel protective towards them, given how they’ve always been so distant.’
‘And what do you conclude?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ He shrugged, pursed his lips and went back to slicing bread…
*
‘Is it posh then, this flat?’ I asked Nik as we sat on the tube together, after meeting at King’s Cross, on our way to Big Ben. He was keen to see that and Buckingham Palace this afternoon.
