Page 41 of Forever, Maybe
Danny, ever eager to fill in the gaps, chimed in. “You were there for just over four years in the early noughties, weren’t you?”
Nell felt the ground shift under her feet. “When… when was your friend there?” she asked, hating the croak in her voice.
Jennifer tilted her head, her smile as sharp as broken glass. “Same time, I think.” She let the words hang, the pause excruciating before she changed the subject with practiced ease. “Anyway, Nell, it’s such a pleasure to meet you! When I interviewed Daniel, he told me all about having to chase you down to arrange your first date.Soromantic!”
She pressed one hand theatrically to her chest, her eyes widening with exaggerated admiration. “What a lucky woman you are!”
The pointed remark seemed one hundred per cent obvious, but when she said her goodbyes and wandered off, Daisy following her with frequent backward glances at them and the Tupperware box of roast chicken, Danny appeared not to have noticed anything.
“She’s sending a photographer out next week. As if I’ve got time for that. Hope she doesnae make me sound like a twat in the article she writes,” he grumbled, before biting into his baguette and chewing it thoroughly.
“Have you met her before, by the way?”
Nell swigged from the bottle of Prosecco and shook her head. “No. Why?”
“Dunno. The first time I mentioned your name, I thought she reacted to it. Must have imagined it. Eat up!” Danny, who’d finished his ginormous baguette, rummaged through the cool bag. He withdrew a second baguette. “How about I spread this with cream cheese and cucumber, and we go halfers?”
She nodded, distractedly. “Fine, make mine the smaller half and not too much cream cheese.”
Jennifer vanished from view, though a yell of “Daisy! Stop that! Come back at once!” suggested that the dog had shot off on the trail of food once more.
“I could take the publicity shots for you,” she offered. Danny’s Christmas present a few years ago had been a Canon 7D Mark II, and she’d undertaken photography modules at art school, learning the basics of lighting and good composition.
“Yeah, do that. You’ll take them in half the time.” Danny gathered all the rubbish, dumping it in the nearest bin. He sat down again, offering her a second bottle of Prosecco. Unnerved by the Jennifer Frazer encounter, and crossing her fingers that if she photographed Danny, he would never have cause to speak to the woman again, Nell took it from him, leaning back against his knees once more.
A grey squirrel, bold as brass, advanced on them. It sat up on its hind legs, nose twitching.
“Sorry, mate,” Danny told it. “You should’ve come by a few minutes earlier, and I’d have found you some bread.” He straightened and turned to Nell. “Um, did I tell you about Asda?”
Nell twisted to look at him, one eyebrow raised. “What, the big supermarket? Green and white branding? The woman in the ad who smacks her bum and says, ‘That’s Asda price’?”
“Aye, the very dab. Got an email about it the other day. They’ve invited us to their HQ in Leeds to pitch as a stockist for our dips and pâtés. Maybe even more stuff.”
“Danny!” she exclaimed, her voice bursting with excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? That’s amazing!”
She could already picture it: walking into Asda and spottingStuffed!dips on the shelves, her chest swelling with pride as she willed shoppers to pluck them up. Then it hit her—this news probably explained why he was skiving off on a Tuesday. A pitch like that would mean a monumental workload. The factory unit in Hillington, whereStuffed!produced their goods, would need an overhaul to meet supermarket standards.
Mass ordering packaging, hiring extra staff, ensuring compliance with food safety and hygiene regulations—it would all be on his plate. His sixty-hour weeks were about to stretch even longer.
Danny wasn’t going to change. The burden she carried alone, sharp and familiar, bubbled up again, silencing any objections. Instead, she shuffled to face him fully. His eyes searched hers, full of hope and a hint of hesitation.
“It’ll mean a lot of work,” he said softly.
She nodded. “I know. But it’s your dream, and that’s okay. As long as it doesn’t interfere with our weekend away. That’s still on, right?”
His chin bobbed up and down. Too quickly.
“Itwillgo ahead, won’t it?” she pressed.
“Yes, of course.” A grin spread across his face, the corner of his mouth quirking mischievously. “Tell you what—seeing as I’m off on a Tuesday afternoon and I havenae been servicing my wife properly of late, how about we spend the rest of the day in bed and order a takeaway later?”
Nell clapped her hands. “God, yes. We haven’t done that in forever.”
Danny scooped up the blanket with one arm and took her hand with the other. They set off down the hill at a half-run, laughter brimming between them like children playing truant.
Chapter sixteen
October1996
