Page 81 of The One Plus One
‘Ten years.’
‘Three years.’
‘The children are from my previous marriages,’ Jess said, slicing into the pie.
‘Oh! That’s –’
‘I rescued her,’ said Mr Nicholls. ‘From the side of the road.’
‘He did.’
‘That’s very romantic.’ Mrs Deakins’s smile wavered a little.
‘Not really. She was being arrested at the time.’
‘I’ve explained all that. God, these chips are delicious.’
‘You have. And those policemen were very understanding. Considering.’
Mrs Deakins had started to back away. ‘Well, that’s lovely. It’s nice that you’re still together.’
‘We get by.’
‘We have no choice right now.’
‘That’s true too.’
‘Could you bring out some red sauce?’
‘Oh, good idea. Darling.’
As she disappeared, Mr Nicholls nodded towards the candle, and the plates. And thenhe looked up at Jess and he was no longer scowling. ‘This is actually the best pie and chips I’ve ever eaten in a weird bed-and-breakfast somewhere I’ve never heard of on the north Yorkshire moors.’
‘I’m so glad. Happy birthday.’
They ate in companionable silence. It was astonishing how much better a hot meal and a fearsomely strong cocktail could make you feel. Upstairs Jess could hear Nicky watching television, occasional growls of frustration echoing through the open window when the static electricity interrupted his programme. Crows cawed obscenely from a nearby telephone wire. Norman groaned and flopped over onto his side, releasing Mr Nicholls’s foot. Mr Nicholls stretched his leg speculatively, perhaps trying to see whether he still could.
He looked up at her, and raised his refreshed cocktail glass. ‘Seriously. I do feel better. Thank you.’ Without his glasses on, she noticed now that he had ridiculously long eyelashes. It made her feel weirdly conscious of the candle in the middle of the table. It had been a bit of a joke when she’d asked for it.
‘Well…it was the least I could do. You did rescue us. From the side of the road. I don’t know what we would have done.’
He speared another chip and held it aloft. ‘Well, I like to look after my staff.’
‘I think I preferred it when we were married.’
‘Cheers.’ He grinned at her. And it was so genuine and unexpected that she found herself grinning back.
‘Here’s to tomorrow. And Tanzie’s future.’
‘And a general absence of more crap.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’
The evening crept into night, eased by strong alcohol, and the happy knowledge that nobody had to sleep in a car, or needed frequent, urgent access to a bathroom. Nicky came down, ate his pie and chips, gazed suspiciously from under his fringe at the men in the snug, who gazed equally suspiciously back at him, and retreated to his bedroom to watch television. Jess drank three glasses of acidic Liebfraumilch, went inside to check on Tanzie and take her some food. She made her promise she would not revise later than ten o’clock. ‘Can I keep working in your room? Nicky has the telly on.’
‘That’s fine,’ Jess said.
‘You smell of wine,’ Tanzie said pointedly.
