Page 124 of Who’s That Girl?

‘Oh, I’m good.’ He nods, then pauses and plays with the woven bracelets round his wrist, as if he’s got something on his mind. ‘Um, actually, I was going to ask you a favour,’ he says after a moment, and glances at me nervously.

‘Sure, anything.’

Anything to try and make things up to you, I think, looking at him behind the bar and feeling myself almost sag under the weight of regret.

‘Well, the thing is’ – he swallows hard – ‘I’m cooking dinner tomorrow night for a few friends and I wanted to invite Lottie. Do you think she might come?’

He smiles nervously, his face infused with hope. And I know, right here and now, that this is my second chance. I might have messed things up, but it doesn’t mean Lottie has to.

‘Of course she will,’ I reassure him.

‘Really?’ His face flushes with delight. ‘You think so?’

‘Leave it to me.’ I smile. ‘Just give me your address.’

‘Oh, OK …’ He scrambles for a piece of paper, as if hardly daring to believe his luck. ‘Hang on, there’s a notepad around here somewhere …’

‘Don’t worry, use this.’ I dig a crumpled piece of paper out of my bag. It’s my list of advice. Nineteen dos and don’ts. Funny, I never got to number twenty. ‘I won’t be needing this any more.’ I glance at it for a moment, thinking how much I got it wrong, before passing it across the bar. ‘Just write on the back.’

‘Thanks,’ he mutters, and scribbles his address. ‘Tell her it’s at seven thirty, and she doesn’t need to bring anything. Just herself,’ he adds, with a small smile. He passes it to me.

‘Consider it done.’ I smile back, slipping it into my bag.

‘Now, what can I get you?’ he asks. ‘Drinks are on the house.’

I order two halves of cider and two packets of salt-and-vinegar crisps as an appetiser – well, if I’m back on the chocolate, it seems only fitting I go the whole hog – and walk back to the table, carrying a couple of menus, where Lottie is waiting.

‘Hey, Lottie,’ I say casually, handing her the cider and crisps, and sliding into the seat next to her. ‘I’m going over to a friend’s for dinner tomorrow night and I wondered if you wanted to come along.’

‘Oh, yeah, that sounds cool.’ She nods, diving delightedly on the crisp packet and ripping it open.

‘But I’m going straight from work, so I was hoping you could meet me there,’ I continue, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, hoping she’ll take the bait. Because of course at the last minute I’m suddenly not going to be able to make it due to some ‘unforeseen problem at work’, but by then she’ll already be there.

‘Sure, what’s the address?’

Bingo.

‘Here, I wrote it on a piece of paper,’ I say, digging it out of my bag and passing it to her. She sticks it in her pocket without even looking at it. Unlike me, who’d be immediately looking it up.

Or at least I would have done in the past, I reflect, taking a sip of my cider. Mmm, that is good.

‘So what do you think, Charlotte?’

‘About what?’ I snap back to see Lottie peering at the menu. ‘The fish and chips or the pasta? You’ve eaten here before. What do you recommend?’

I look at her, in her too-short denim hot pants, drinking cider and playing with a tendril of hair. She hasn’t changed, she’s still exactly the same as when I first bumped into her, and, you know what, I’m glad. I don’t want her to change. I want her to stay exactly how she is. How I was. How I’m learning to be again.

Well, maybe not the denim hot pants.

Eating a handful of crisps, I take a large slug of cider. ‘Oh, I don’t think you need any advice from me.’

‘OK, well, then in that case I’ll have the cheese nachos with refried beans and sour cream.’

I consider the ingredients: dairy, fat, carbs, deep-fried and not in the slightest bit organic, low fat or remotely healthy.

I throw her a big grin. ‘Sounds delicious. I’ll have the same.’

Chapter Thirty-six