Page 37 of The Reboot
She took the garlic bread out of the oven and followed Roly to the table, which was set for two. She was surprised to see an open bottle of wine standing in the centre.
‘Dig in,’ Roly said as he put the steaming bowl of pasta on the table and sat beside her. ‘The wine’s for you, obviously. You drink red, right?’
‘Yes. Thanks. But you really shouldn’t have.’ She felt awkward. Obviously Roly’s addiction problems were no secret, but it still somehow felt like an invasion of his privacy that she knew this about him.
He shrugged. ‘No biggie. I’m trying to be one of the good guys, remember?’ He picked up the bottle and poured her a glass.
‘Well, it’s really nice of you. But I’m fine with not drinking.’
‘It doesn’t bother me, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m okay with people drinking around me.’
‘Are you sure? I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.’
‘Totally. What makes me feel awkward as fuck is when people tiptoe around me like I’m some kind of loose cannon who’s going to fall off the wagon at the mere mention of alcohol.’
‘Okay, noted. No tiptoeing.’ Ella had to admit, she was really glad she could have wine if this meal was going to be her last big blow-out for a while. She took a sip. It was a deep, rich shiraz at a perfect temperature. ‘This is lovely. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘But just so you know, I’ll be cutting down on alcohol anyway if I’m trying to lose weight,’ she said, winding spaghetti onto her fork. ‘Nothing to do with you, I promise.’
He nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘This is delicious. You can cook, then.’
‘Yeah – basic stuff anyway. I used to be in charge of dinner sometimes when Mum was working and I’d get home before her.’
‘Is she a good cook?’
‘Yeah, but baking’s really her thing. She makes amazing cakes. She even tried to do it as a business once, but it was too hard to make money.’
‘What does she do?’
‘She’s a medical secretary – works for an orthopaedic surgeon. She only does a couple of days a week now. How about yours?’
‘She was a teacher. She doesn’t work now, though. She retired early.’ It struck her how strange it was to be sitting here chatting with Roly about their families and backgrounds. They’d known each other for years, but their time together had always been fleeting, and it took place in bars, hotel rooms and restaurants, backstage at stadiums, at parties in other people’s houses … never anywhere that constituted home for either of them. This felt different, domestic. It was nice.
‘Okay, ready to do some planning?’ They’d cleared the table after dinner and Ella had produced a couple of A4 pads and pens.
He smiled at her, shaking his head. ‘You’re such a nerd.’ He pulled a notepad in front of him and picked up a pen. ‘Okay, what are we doing exactly?’
‘First we have to set our goals. Then we can make an action plan for working towards them. So think about what your best life looks like and write down everything you want to achieve, big or small.’
‘Okay.’ Roly leaned forward and began writing.
Ella picked up her pen and tapped it against the table as she thought. She glanced over at what Roly was writing.
‘Hey, no cogging!’ He leaned forward, curling an arm around his sheet of paper, as if they were back in school and she was trying to copy his test.
‘Sorry.’ She turned her attention back to her own notepad.
‘Done!’ Roly said seconds later.
‘Already?’
‘Yeah.’ He grinned, sitting back and slid his pad across to her.
Roly’s list was concise. It just had five goals:
