‘I was trying to find a taxi,’ I lie again.
‘And you didn’t hear me calling you?’
It seems pointless to keep denying everything when it’s pretty clear that I was, in fact, running – or as close to running as is possible – away from her.
I feel my energy drain from me as I slump down. ‘I am such an idiot.’
‘Well, yeah. But I knew that. Hal, what were you doing? I’m notthatbad, am I?’
I turn to her to see whether she’s serious, expecting to see a note of humour in her expression. But her eyes are large, glistening. And I’m so surprised that she still doesn’t get it. ‘You’re not bad at all,’ I say. ‘What I mean is… You’re good. Amazing, actually.’
‘Yeah, do you often run away from amazing women?’
I sigh. ‘Sarah, the last two weeks have been… weird but well, kind of incredible.’
‘OK…?’
‘And I started to think… I started to wonder whether there might be something between us. Something that we found two decades ago, but lost along the way. I began to wonder if we might have a future. You know. Together.’
I risk a glance at her and she’s listening, not ready to interrupt.
‘That’s why I was chasing you in Betty yesterday.’
‘You didn’t think to have a word with me when I was actually, like, living in the same house then?’
I make a face. ‘I thought Peter must have booked the car.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah. And it made me realise that whatever I might feel for you, I’m just not good enough.’
‘What, because you didn’t book me an expensive car to drive me all the way to England from France?’ she scoffs.
‘No, because I never think of anything you might need. I never anticipate what might help you. And I thought you had someone who did. I thought that if Peter loved you like that, it was what you deserved.’
‘Oh.’
‘Hence the chase, when I found out the truth from Vivian.’
‘Sothat’swhy she was being so evasive.’
‘Yup.’
Silence settles over us. She reaches for my hand, but I draw it away.
‘I don’t get it, Hal,’ she says, sounding strained. ‘Peter and I aren’t together. I guess I’m feeling similar to you. That it’s worth at least seeing where this could go. But you’re pushing me away.’
‘I have to.’
She makes a noise that’s a little like a growl of frustration. I look at her and she’s scowling. ‘Hal, I am not this fragile little thing who needs to be wrapped in cotton wool. You know that, right? I’ve been effectively single for most of the past two decades and other than tumbling down steps and snapping a bone, I’ve been pretty much able to look after myself.’
‘It’s not that. It’s just…’ But as I study her face, I no longerknowwhat it is. Some sort of self-pity and self-denial.
Our eyes lock and we sit for a moment.
‘You’re seriously telling me you want to be with me?’ I say. ‘This broken, thoughtless, VW-camper-van-loving, granddad-to-be.’
‘I think he might just make a great partner for a broken, highly-strung, comfort-loving, grandmother-to-be?’ she says.
