He laughed. ‘Like I said, I’m sure he means well.’
‘Yes. I think he does.’
Anthony seemed to be considering whether to say something else.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
He glanced around. ‘It’s just that you seem a really nice person—’
‘Uh oh!’ I interrupted.
He laughed and seemed to relax a little. ‘Well, it’s just that I wouldn’t want you to think it’s any reflection on you.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about it!’ I said, resting my hand briefly on his arm. ‘Really, it’s OK. I’ve been through enough of Dad’s set-ups now to deal with it all. Please don’t think I’m offended. I’m just sorry that you were put in an awkward position.’
‘I’m gay.’
‘Oh!’ I looked at him, a smile beginning to tug at my lips. I could see my reaction reflected in my dinner companion’s expression.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, and then my hand flew up to my face. ‘I mean, about all this, not about you being gay.’
He laughed then, really laughed, and squeezed my hand. ‘It’s fine. I’m guessing your father didn’t know.’
‘No, he can’t have. He’s hopeless when it comes to this sort of thing with me, but he’d never have put you in an uncomfortable situation like this, knowingly. I mean, even more uncomfortable than it already was!’
‘Like I said, I’m sure he means well. And I enjoyed the company anyway, as well as the food.’
Dad and Gina were heading back to the table and I could see them smiling to each other at the fact that we were chatting. Anthony was right. They did mean well. But I still really wished they wouldn’t do it.
10
I rang the doorbell and waited. Behind me, cars and buses made their way along the busy seafront road. The honk of a car horn made me turn. A driver was waving his arms at a double-decker bus as it pulled out from a stop. The bus driver made no acknowledgement and continued manoeuvring the vehicle along the road. Heat and traffic were never a good mix. The door to the house opened just as I was turning back to face it.
‘Hi.’
‘Hi. Come in,’ Charlie said, stepping back and allowing me entrance into the Georgian town house. For some reason, Charlie always seemed to end up at my flat, so this was the first time I’d seen the inside of his place.
‘Wow! This is lovely,’ I said, glancing around, my hand feeling the smooth, carved wood of the banister as I followed him down the stairs. ‘I thought all of these had been converted into flats years ago.’
‘They were,’ Charlie said. ‘This was originally flats when I bought it too.’
‘You converted it back?’
‘Yes. Well, not me personally.’ He gave me that half-smile. ‘I can do a bit of DIY but this was a little more than my talents lend themselves to, especially as it has listed status. There are all sorts of codes and things you have to abide by, correct materials to be sourced, etc.’
‘Big job,’ I said.
‘Yes. Very. But I’m pleased with the outcome.’
We were now in the kitchen. It was very modern and sleek, all white and steel. Large windows flooded it with light and a set of beautiful period doors opened onto a gorgeous courtyard garden. One blank wall held three large photographic canvases of city-sponsored graffiti, their bright hue a vivid splash of colour in the minimalist room.
I ambled over to the prints on the wall for a closer look. I loved the angles the photographer had captured and the colours seemed to bounce right off the wall.
‘These are amazing. Where did you find them?’
Charlie threw a look back over his shoulder. ‘They’re, um… they’re mine.’
‘Yours? You took them?’
