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‘Yeah, but it’s a classic, right? Everyone loves it.’
‘Did you know he was in Stealers Wheel?’ Nikki looked blank. ‘ “Stuck in the Middle with You”?’ Adam pressed play on the track and started singing along.
Recognising it, Nikki sang along with him. They sat there as darkness fell, yowling their way through a slightly drunken duet. At one point Adam slung an arm around her shoulder as they swayed together in time to the music. She felt warm and happy and silly and fuzzy and—
The next song came on. It was ‘Brandy’. Rik’s song. In a split second she was taken back to the harbour the day he arrived, remembering how he’d sung the words to her.
‘We should definitely add this,’ said Adam.
‘No.’ Nikki was sharper than she intended. ‘I don’t like that one.’
He looked startled by her vehemence. ‘OK.’
He turned it off and the silence felt ominous. It was suddenly cold in the garden, and there was a sense that their party for two was over. Nikki grabbed her jumper and pulled it on.
‘I’d better get some sleep,’ she said. ‘I need to be up early. I shouldn’t have had all that wine.’
‘Famous last words. But it was fun.’
‘Yes …’ It really had been. Until the past had intruded like an unwelcome guest.
Adam was getting up out of his seat, putting his phone back in his pocket, picking up the bottle and the glasses to take them back into the kitchen because of course he had to go through her house to get back to his. She followed him in, feeling her mood plummet.
‘Thanks for the wine,’ he said, plonking the glasses in the sink. ‘I’ll stick the bottle in the recycling on my way out.’
He raised his hand in farewell and disappeared out of the door. Nikki stood in the kitchen wondering if things could have turned out differently if fate hadn’t intervened. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such fun, and they hadn’t even been doing much, just sinking a glass of wine or two and listening to music. Adam was one of those magical people who made everything special, because he knew how to have a good time. He had a big heart and a warm embrace. She remembered his arm around her. She could still smell his cologne.
She pulled off her jumper and the shirt underneath. The last thing she wanted was to be haunted by his scent all night, giving her disturbed dreams. She’d been there before, after all.
She was determined not to go to bed dejected. Today had been a good day. Adam wasn’t the last item at the bottom of a check list that she’d failed to tick off. She’d had a brilliant site visit, advertised for an assistant, taken up Archie Fowler’s challenge and sorted out her sister. That made her a success, surely?
And she hadn’t had time to revel in the fact that the house was now finished. She had to admit Mike and Jason had surpassed themselves. The rooms seemed twice the size now, with the walls glowing snow-white and the floorboards gleaming like honey. The fireplace had been opened up, and there were fresh logs stacked either side. In the kitchen, there was a row of navy-blue cabinets with copper handles, beech work surfaces and rows and rows of rustic scaffold shelving. It was modest compared to Adam’s, but it was a million miles from the dreary kitchen she’d viewed a few months ago.
And she had a houseful of all the people she loved descending on Saturday. She didn’t have time for regret.
39
Helen knew exactly what to put on for her lunch date with Ralph: a floral shift dress in pinks and oranges, with her platform sneakers and a coral cardigan. She felt like herself, she felt comfortable, she looked as if she’d made an effort but not overdressed. It was just a casual lunch in a country pub, after all.
She set off from Speedwell just before midday. It was an hour’s drive to Chagford, where they were meeting, so that would give her enough time to find a parking space and nip to the loo before he arrived. On the drive, she found that she wasn’t at all nervous. On the contrary, she rather enjoyed the heady mix of excitement and anticipation, turning up Elton John and putting her foot down on the winding roads, singing along to ‘Tiny Dancer’.
Was this a turning point? she wondered. Was she about to embark on something life-changing and exciting? By the time she drove back this afternoon, she would know if Ralph held the key to a new future. She reminded herself not to be disappointed if he didn’t live up to expectations, but she couldn’t help feeling excited as she went over all their conversations, the little clues that suggested they had a connection. The way he played something different for her every night, her own private lullaby.
She arrived on time at a quintessential English country pub, with the requisite log fire, oak settles and a sprinkling of customers with Jack Russells and Labradors. She nipped to the loo, touched up her lipstick, then settled herself at the table by the window that Ralph had booked – she liked that he had taken the initiative. Not that she needed a man to take control, but it showed a certain chivalry.
By a quarter past one he still hadn’t arrived. She tried not to keep checking her phone, but instead sipped at the mineral water she’d ordered. He was coming from Taunton. It only took a tractor or a farmer trying to get his sheep across the road to hold you up. She ordered some sourdough and nibbled at it to give her something to do. Twenty-five past. He wasn’t late, she thought. She’d been stood up.
She signalled to the waiter. ‘My lunch date isn’t coming,’ she said, without explanation. ‘Can I settle up?’
‘That’s fine. Don’t worry,’ said the waiter, and she realised he was being kind, trying to compensate for her humiliation. It was only then that she felt a twinge of disappointment, bending down to get her bag so he couldn’t see the trace of a tear in her eye. It had been too much to hope for. She’d built Ralph up into someone who was going to swoop in and add another dimension to her life. She’d allowed herself to dream of trips away, perhaps to the Lake District, or even Prague. She’d imagined them slumped on the sofa barking the answers to University Challenge, or trying to guess the valuations on Antiques Roadshow. Little moments of togetherness.
Of course it wasn’t that easy. Of course you didn’t find The One with a single click on the internet.
‘Helen.’
She looked up, her keys in her hand, her sunglasses on. And there he was. Ralph Potter. In cream chinos and a checked shirt, looking extremely nervous.
‘I had a last-minute wobble,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think I could do it, because I’d built you up into something so momentous, I didn’t think I was worthy of you. I was half a mile down the road, calling myself everything under the sun for being such a coward, trying not to think of you sitting here knowing I’d let you down. Then I heard that song on the radio. ‘Rise Up’. Do you know it?’
