Page 43 of The Winter We Met
‘Why would he lie about that detail? You aren’t making any sense.’
Like I’d mentioned to Oliver before, I had a good gut when it came to judging people due to growing up around the friends Mum chose. I could spot a liar a mile away by the time I left junior school. When one of her boyfriends spoke with his hands in his pockets, that was a dead giveaway. Or if they broke eye contact at the crucial moment of a conversation or shuffled their feet. These were sure signs that Mum, for some reason, would always miss.
Nik was a good guy. I knew it in my bones.
‘In a way his lies about the detail are irrelevant,’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Because the whole story’s a load of garbage, he doesn’t even work there. I checked theMeet our Teampage. And it’s no family business, that’s not what the website says at all.’
Oliver scrolled down his phone and passed it over. I clicked onto the Contacts option of the website. I studied it and then handed the phone back, turning away to carry on washing up. ‘I suggest you look at the address again.’
Silence for a few seconds
‘Sydney – North Dakota,’ he mumbled.
I spun around and threw a hand up into the air, suds floated down to the ground. Buddy came over to investigate whereas I felt an urge to run away, as fast as I could, from the drama. ‘Your instincts are about as accurate as a compass in a magnetic storm. You’ve been incredibly rude to Nik and you’ve ruined what was one of the nicest evenings I’ve had in ages.’
A wave of anger washed through me. It wasn’t asking too much, was it, at twenty-nine years old, to have a bit of fun? Oliver wasn’t my dad or my guardian angel. I’d always managed fine without both of those things and wasn’t about to start needing them now.
‘Come on, Jess… he’s like Leonardo DiCaprio inCatch Me If You Canor Paul Newman and Robert Redford inThe Sting.’
‘And you’re acting more like Mr Bean.’
‘Take those red roses. It’s hardly subtle, is it? He’s just too smooth, too much of a cliché.’
‘Bringing flowers to dinner is just good old-fashioned manners.’
Oliver sat down at the breakfast bar and fiddled with a wine cork. ‘How was Nik’s day? Wasn’t he visiting that Pollock museum?’
I leant my back against the sink. Hopefully Oliver would drop this nonsense now. ‘Yes. He had a good time.’
‘Nanny took me there years ago. I still remember its pride and joy, the Ancient Egyptian mouse. I loved looking at the tin toys and the jester painted above the shop front, on the wall, is brilliant.’
My brow relaxed. ‘Great place, isn’t it? You know, back in the 1850s it used to be—’
‘A printer’s. I know. Then they turned it into a toy shop a century later. Just amazing.’ He stared at me.
‘What?’
‘I’ve never been there, Jess. I got all that information off the internet. See how easy it is?’
Heat flooded my face and a sense of nausea backed up my throat. ‘What is this? Some sort of power game to make me feel stupid?’
‘Jess, of course not – look, you know I trust your opinion more than anyone’s, on everything from if a new shirt suits me or whether I’ve overreacted with an impolite customer at work. You’re intelligent and perceptive and that’s why you were promoted at work. But romance… it makes all of us do stupid things. Remember that woman I dated and I ignored all the signs she was married and just looking for a bit of fun? I even made up some excuse, in my head, for her wearing a gold band on her third finger. You made me see that I was making a fool of myself.’
‘You’re being just as foolish again. Honestly, anyone would think you were jealous.’
‘What?’ He froze.
‘Just because there’s no romance inyourlife, doesn’t mean I have to behave like a nun. Surely you don’t begrudge me a bit of fun?’
I felt an inexplicable urge to cry. Four years I’d known Oliver and our friendship had gone from strength to strength. I should have known it was all going to end one day.
‘Jess, the last thing I wanted to do was upset you. Look… I’ve said my piece. I promise to keep my concerns to myself in future. At least let me tidy up.’
I didn’t reply.
