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“Don’t call me that,” I say in a clipped tone, and he apologises immediately. Poor old Dan, he can’t seem to get anything right with us neurotic lot tonight. I bet he can’t wait to leave. Perhaps I was a little hasty earlier, misconstruing his gregarious nature for flirting. “But, yes, I am definitely still a Fox,” I reply. “And you? How long have you been married?”
“Divorced,” he says, taking a mouthful of dauphinoise potatoes, and I almost choke on my lamb. “It’s been almost…” He holds up three fingers as he chews. Mum shoots me one of her looks. Her face taking on a new, fresh glow.
“Three months?” Vicky guesses as Nathan climbs onto her lap and pulls her hair.
“Years,” he says, swallowing.
Mum’s mouth twitches as she leans forward, fingers brushing her chin, one eyebrow raised. I can sense her antennae slowly emerging, not a good sign. “Really, Daniel, I thought you were happily married. Aww, that’s such a shame,” she croons. “I’m so sorry.” And if you believe that then you’ll believe anything. Mum’s got it into her head lately that I need a new love interest and I think she’s just found her latest victim.
“Nah, it’s fine.” He forks green beans. “It was all very amicable. We’re still great friends. Business partners, actually. Aliki’s still in Cyprus, working on your project, in fact.” Which is why, I suppose, they were all playing happy families on the beach that day. Aliki didn’t look like a woman who’d let go to me. There was an air of possessiveness about her that sent a chill through the scorching heat from a hundred-and-fifty-yards away. I wonder why he walked out on such a beautiful, young woman. The mother of his child. He must be a player. Or maybe she had an affair.
“Oh, that’s interesting,” Dad pauses, resting his arms on the table, “is Aliki a Cypriot girl?”
Daniel nods as he fills a tall glass with water from the jug. “She’s the reason why I started this business in Cyprus, Aliki had all the contacts. And she speaks fluent Greek, which helps. A lot.”
“Any chance of a reconciliation?” George asks, pushing his empty plate away as Josh drones by his side, “Dada, Dada, sit on lap.” He picks him up and settles him onto his knees.
“George.” Vicky gives him a daggered look. “Don’t be so inquisitive.”
“It’s okay, Vicky,” Daniel says reassuringly, “I don’t mind, and, no, that chapter has definitely ended.”
“Dan,” I clear my dry throat, “can you pass me that jug of water please.”
“Daniel,” he corrects, reaching for the jug, “Don’t really like Dan.” He wrinkles his nose, holding my gaze. Touché. I hate vindictive men.
I think I’ve gone pink. “Oh, it’s just that I thought I hea…” I falter, and he frowns, his eyes on my lips. I wonder if I should tell him that I heard Aliki calling him Dan on the beach that day. But no, that would make me sound interested and I’m not. I’m definitely not. Clearly, that pet name is reserved for Aliki. As Foxy was for Nick, naturally.
“You thought?” His glance drops, fleeting to my cleavage then back to my lips and I feel my cheeks burn. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this top. I’m going to kill Mum. I bet she knew he was divorced. She’s like the Gestapo. Nothing gets past her.
“And you’ve got your daughter to consider, too,” Dad intervenes, picking up on my discomfort. Dad is good at diffusing awkward situations, always has been.
“Oh, absolutely, yes.” Daniel’s eyes light up at the mention of his daughter. “Connie always comes first. We’re both very involved in her life. She’s our world.” I glance at Dad and he winks, he knows me so well, and right now I love him all the more for it.
Mum waves off her last dinner guest at ten-thirty. She asks me to stay the night and help her clear up and I agree. I always enjoy sleepovers, and this may even be my last one here ever.
“Well,” Mum gives me a sideward glance at the kitchen sink, “I do believe Daniel Taylor is quite taken by you.”
“Oh, Mum, for goodness sake, he’s not interested in me,” I groan. She scrapes food off a plate, hands it to me and I load it into the dishwasher. “Have you seen his ex-wife? She’s bloody gorgeous. And YOUNG!”
“Ex, being the operative word, darling, and where on earth did you see her?” I tell her all about the incident at the beach and the restaurant.
“Oh my God, was that him? The man who found your shoe?” Mum is astounded, “Small world.” Then she chews the inside of her bottom lip, a twinkle in her eye.
“What?” I say, “I know that look.”
“It’s kismet, that’s what. Your real-life Prince Charming. Oh, don’t roll your eyes! Did you see the way he was looking at you? I told you that top was a good idea.”
“MUM,” I complain, shocked, and I’m saved by the ringing of my mobile phone, “I’ll just take this outside,” I say briskly. I don’t care who it is, I’ll talk to a PPI agent for hours if I must. “The reception in here is crap.”
“Hi Audrey, it’s me.” I close the kitchen door behind me, the autumn chill bites at my bare legs and chest.
“Ronan. Hi!” I wrap my cardigan around me tightly, “It’s good to hear your voice.” I walk to a secluded spot behind the shed where Louise and I used to smoke as teenagers.
“Yeah, same here.” He sounds breathless. I can hear the swish of traffic in the background. “So, how’ve you been?” We exchange a few pleasantries and then I apologise again for how inappropriately I behaved the last time we met, how sorry I was for almost getting us both killed.
“It was my fault too, just forget it, I have.” I close my eyes, a mist of relief sweeps over me. He tells me he’s back in Dublin and trying to make a go of it with Catherine.
“I’m really glad to hear that,” I say truthfully. At least someone is prepared to work hard to save their relationship. I peer around the garage, Mum is by the sink, face like thunder. “Anyway, I’d better get back to helping Mum with the dishes, she’s giving me daggers from the kitchen window.” We both laugh. “You take care, Ronan.”
