‘It’s pretty ripe so should just scoop out with that spoon easily. Some people score the flesh but whatever works best for you. I’m guessing none of those three jobs you had at uni were kitchen based?’ he said as we worked alongside one another.
‘How did you know?’ I said, not taking offence. I was the first to admit I couldn’t even boil an egg. Once I’d no longer had access to a private chef, I’d lived on takeaways, ready meals and then, as I’d earned more, restaurants.
* * *
‘That was delicious, thanks,’ I said, placing my knife and fork together on my plate, the linen napkin still resting on my lap.
‘Glad you enjoyed it.’
‘You’re a great cook.’
‘Nah, not really. I’ve just picked bits up as I went along. Had to, really. Before Alice, I mostly lived on beans on toast and takeaways and once I met her, she cooked. And before you say anything, I did offer but she enjoyed it. Cooking was her way of relaxing and her hobby as well as a way to feed herself and anyone else who happened to be in the vicinity.’
‘She sounds lovely.’
‘She was. A generous soul, for sure.’
I gave him a smile, not sure what else to do.
‘Not that she didn’t have the odd paddy,’ Jesse continued with a grin.
‘Nobody can be expected to be a saint.’
‘Very true. But it never lasted long and was usually when she was tired or hungry or just needed to get into the kitchen and destress. Which is what led to my misstep last night with you.’ He had been studying the grain on the tabletop but at this, he gave a brief look up at me through the long, dark lashes.
‘What do you mean?’
He straightened, tipped his head back and blew out a breath as he stared at the ceiling before looking back at me. ‘When Alice got in a huff, I’d let her stomp about for a few minutes, then ask, like I did with you last night, if she was done with her tantrum. That broke the cycle and she’d look at me, burst into laughter and get on with whatever she needed to do to unwind. Partly out of habit and partly because I didn’t know what else to do, I did the same last night, but I realise now that I misread the situation entirely. You were properly upset and, quite rightly, felt my comment was insensitive and uncalled for. Believe me, I feel awful about it now.’
‘You weren’t to know. Let’s face it, we barely know each other.’
‘True. But I reckon there’s a story behind those shoes because, despite your protestations about them just being shoes, the look on your face said they mean a hell of a lot more to you than that and the fact I indirectly sent you climbing the gate, ruining them in the process, truly makes me feel like the biggest shit, if that makes it any better.’
I touched his hand briefly. ‘Of course it doesn’t. The last thing I want is for you to feel bad after everything you’ve done. You weren’t to know I was going to try and scale the gate. To be fair, I didn’t even know myself!’
We exchanged a smile, tentatively building on the fragile ground of understanding.
‘Did they belong to someone special?’
I shook my head. ‘No. I bought them.’
‘But?’
‘But what?’
He fixed me with his ‘don’t try that with me’ look and waited.
‘I bought them when I knew I could finally afford such an extravagance again. I’d set myself a goal of reaching a particular level of disposable income and that, when I did, I was going to buy myself this particular pair of shoes to celebrate. It sounds stupid now when I say it out loud…’
‘No, it doesn’t. Go on.’
I swallowed and looked away for a moment, my attention focused on Ned, who had now finished hoovering up any stray crumbs under the table and was sitting next to me in the hope that either more might miraculously appear or, failing that, he’d get attention. I gave him the latter. It was easier to talk when I was looking into the soft brown eyes of the dog rather than the unusual grey of his owner’s.
‘The shoes were a symbol. Like once I could buy high-end designer labels again without double-checking my bank balance every hour, I’d made it. I’d clawed my way back up to the level I’d been kicked out of years previously. That if I ever ran into any of those I’d been to school with, I would no longer be ashamed, or made to feel ashamed and worthless.’
‘Money doesn’t make people worth more or less, Fliss.’
‘No, I know.’ Automatically, my hand rested on his forearm for a moment and I felt the hairs tickle my palms, the corded muscles move and the warmth of his skin. Just as quickly, I removed it and let it rest on my lap. ‘If I’m honest with you, at one time I did think money defined people because that was what I had been brought up to think. All my friends thought that. It’s just how it was. Obviously, I know differently now.’
