Page 13 of Never Too Late
‘Yes, I know.’ And she was right. No more keeping the house perfect in case Hugh decided to bring home a colleague for dinner at the last minute to discuss the latest dissertation subjects, most of which went over my head. No more researching recipes for his latest health fad. No more living a life that revolved around others.
‘You OK? You look miles away.’
‘I’m fine, love, I might just have a lie down if that’s all right with you? All this pampering is exhausting!’
‘I’m going to do the same.’ She leant in and gave me a big squeeze. ‘That was so fun. Let’s make it a thing. Getting a facial together, or our nails, or whatever. A regular thing, yeah?’
‘That sounds lovely, Sash. I’d really like that.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’
‘Love you, Mum.’
‘Love you, too.’ I kissed her temple as I’d done since she was a baby. ‘Have a good nap.’
‘And you. See you in a bit.’
I closed the door and hung the robe on the back of the door. It had felt rather licentious heading down to the spa, knowing that I’d only had my pants on beneath. In the lift, I’d voiced the thought to Sash, who’d just laughed and flashed me which had set me giggling too, a distant memory in a dusty corner of my mind lighting up of a girl who, years ago, would have done the same thing. The girl who’d lived in Paris, and being slim and lightly endowed, abandoned wearing a bra as many of the women there did. My initial English hesitance about – oh, the scandal – a hint of nipple very soon dissipated as I fell into the natural way of things in my adopted city, the city I’d fallen in love with. The city where I’d fallen in love.
Poor Hugh. It wasn’t his fault. And I had loved him. We’d loved each other. Not in the ‘throw all caution to the wind’, world-spinning way I’d loved before, but right then, that was all for the better. The other way had split my heart into shards and I never wanted to feel that again. So when I’d run away from Paris, there was Hugh. A friend who, over the course of the following year, gradually and unintentionally became something more. And then, even more unexpectedly, became a father and our lives changed forever.
8
About five to seven, I looked up to see Ashok approaching. I closed my Kindle, and slipped it into my bag as I stood.
‘Good book?’
‘Yes, thanks. You look very dapper.’
Dapper?
‘Well, thank you,’ he said, grinning, ‘I actually feel quite dapper. Definitely not a word that’s used as much as it should be.’
I let out a half-nervous, half-relieved laugh. ‘I’ve no idea where that came from. I’m not sure I’ve ever called anyone dapper in my life before.’
‘Then I’m honoured to be the first.’ He did a little bow then offered his arm. ‘Ready for dinner?’
‘Absolutely.’
I made to step in the direction of the hotel’s dining room but Ashok turned the opposite way towards the exit.
‘Oh!’
‘I thought we’d go somewhere different, if that’s all right? I wasn’t sure if you might feel a little awkward having dinner with me, even as friends,’ his eyes crinkled as he smiled, ‘when your daughter and the others were also eating in the same restaurant.’
I glanced up at him. ‘That’d be great, thanks, Ashok.’
‘Excellent,’ he returned and we walked out towards the darkness of the evening.
‘I’ve been thinking today about those fake relationships that you see in books and films…’
‘What about them?’
‘I’m just wondering whether that might be a route to getting my family off my back about still not having found The One.’ His expression was one of amusement and playfulness and I felt once more how glad I was that we were able to be just friends. And, in fact, such good friends already. Connections didn’t have to be romantic to ‘fit’. Sometimes, it just worked.
‘If such a thing even exists?’
