‘Text me your bank details when you have a figure,’ he says, handing me his business card. ‘I’ll transfer the funds. If you need more, we’ll talk. The sooner you start, the happier she’ll be.’ He grins at his wife.
To say I am surprised would be an understatement.
‘Great. Will do,’ I say, taking the card.
‘We’ve got to get back,’ Daniel says. ‘I need to stop by the office. I’ll drop you at Alice’s,’ he tells his wife.
She frowns. ‘I haven’t finished my tea, and Joel’s still colouring his picture.’
‘I can take them home,’ I offer, without really thinking.
Daniel hesitates, then nods. ‘That would be great. I’ll grab the car seat.’
He disappears outside to fetch it.
‘This is very kind of you,’ Joanna says.
‘No problem. I’m heading that way, anyway.’
Joel notices people at the next table, who are eating cake, and points at them. ‘Don’t point, darling,’ she says gently, pulling his hand down.
I glance at her. ‘Is he allowed?’
She nods. ‘He loves cake.’
I stand. ‘Would you like another tea?’
‘That would be lovely, thanks.’
I’m soon back with another cup of tea for Joanna and me, and a slice of cake for Joel. As I sit back down across from her, I feelabsurdly proud, as though we are a family out for an afternoon treat. Joel devours his cake with joyful abandon.
‘How are your kids?’ she asks. ‘It’s half term, isn’t it?’
I try not to let any emotion show on my face. ‘Their mum’s taken them away for the week.’ I lower my gaze and sip the tea, not wanting to see pity in her eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says softly, resting her hand on mine.
The contact is electric. I have to fight the urge to pull away. I’m in trouble here.
‘I should get you home,’ I say, trying to sound casual.
‘I’ll pay the bill,’ she says, starting to rise.
‘I’ve got it.’
She reaches for her bag, and instinctively, I touch her hand.
‘No, really. It’s on me.’
She smiles. ‘Thanks.’
She lifts Joel from the chair while I carry the car seat. Part of me doesn’t want to lose her company. The other part wants to run before this gets complicated.
At the entrance to their apartment building, she turns to me and says, ‘Thanks, Neville. Don’t forget to send Danny your bank details.’
‘I won’t. And please… call me Nev.’
‘Sure,’ she says.
