‘Why didn’t you reply to me in June?’ I ask. ‘Or contact me yourself?’
‘I needed to test you,’ she says, like it’s obvious.
‘Because?’ I ask; it is not obvious to me.
‘Because I’ve been let down by men in the past and I needed to know that you wouldn’t let me down?’ She says it like it’s a question, like it’s a completelyduhhow-do-you-not-know-thatanswer.
She must have been let down very badly, I decide, feeling guilty for the flash of irritation I felt before she explained.
Instead of feeling irritated, I should be trying to understand exactly what she means, so that I can reassure her.
‘Are you ready to order?’ a waiter asks.
‘I’d like a Caesar salad, please.’ Lola flashes her smile at the waiter.
He blinks and smiles back, before saying, ‘We don’t serve Caesar salads.’
I realise that Lola hasn’t opened her menu at all. Fair enough; we’ve had weightier things on our minds.
‘Really?’ She frowns a tiny bit. ‘Would it be possible to make me one, though?’
‘Oh. Well, I think so. Maybe. I’ll check with the chef.’
‘Thank you.’ She throws another smile at him before saying to me, ‘Where were we?’
‘Well I…’ I was going to order but the waiter’s gone. But no problem; he will obviously come back and I’ll order then.
The weirdness of the situation really is getting to me.
‘So,’ I say firmly. ‘You got in touch in June to see if I wanted to meet but then you didn’t make it. Which I completely understand; things do just happen sometimes.’ I’d love to knowwhathappened. ‘I was a little worried about you, though, because from your messages it sounded as though something bad might have happened to you. And then when I—’ yep, I’m just going to say it, or where will we ever be able to go from here ‘—told you I loved you, you didn’t reply. And so I suppose I thought that my feelings weren’t reciprocated.’
Lola takes my hands across the table and smiles at me. ‘Silly. Of course they’re reciprocated.’
I let my hands stay holding hers, but out of nowhere I think,ImissNadia. It feels odd being here with Lola; it’s like I’m almost homesick for Nadia’s presence.She’sthe one I go to restaurants at Waterloo with. Weird. I really don’t know why I’m thinking that right now.
I focus and take a deep breath. ‘What was it that stopped you from coming in June?’
She shakes her head, and says, ‘Details. What matters isnow. I love you, Tom.’
She’s smiling in her mocking, intimate way again, and looking into my eyes. And I’m… confused. This is all I’ve wanted for a very long time. But…
‘Excuse me; we can do a Caesar salad for you,’ the waiter interrupts.
‘Thank you so much.’ Lola doesn’t move her gaze from mine. ‘Make that two. And a bottle of champagne, I think.’ She points at the wine menu. ‘To celebrate.’
I don’t particularly want a Caesar salad and I… Yep, fine whatever. Not the most important thing right now. I mean, I’m reminded of when Nadia ordered Italian food for me and sheaskedif it was okay for her to do that; she didn’t just assume. But, really, whatever. What we eat this evening is not important.
I smile at the waiter and thank him, before looking back at Lola.
Her smile grows and then she very deliberately moistens her lips, and then bites her down on her lower lip with her perfectly even teeth.
It should be a very sexy move – it’s definitely, I think, intended to promise exciting things for later – but I’m too confused still to appreciate it. All I can think about isNadia’smouth.
I withdraw my hands from Lola’s on the pretext of looking at the wine menu.
Lola pouts at me. ‘Champagne, surely, all evening?’
She’s right. I should make an effort. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This is a huge evening for us. Of course we should be drinking champagne. Although not too much; I don’t want to ruin the evening by being remotely drunk.
