Page 28 of Love Letters on Hazel Lane

There was something about the phrase ‘getting up to’ that sounded a little bit suggestive. Jo’s stomach turned to butterflies and she pushed thoughts of what she’d like to get up to with Tarquin to the back of her mind.

She wondered how to answer his question. They’d established at the pub quiz that neither of them were into art. Should she say adventurous activities? Or opt for the truth?

She settled on the truth. Gaping Gill had been fun, but in the unlikely event of a second date with Tarquin – though she doubted she’d be that lucky – she didn’t want him organising abseiling or skydiving.

‘This probably sounds horribly boring,’ she said, ‘but I love Scrabble. In fact, I’m a bit of a fanatic.’

‘Scrabble? As in the board game? How quaint!’ He smiled. ‘Jo, you’re adorable, d’you know that?’

She shook her head. Adorable? Was he being serious?

‘We’ll have to have a game sometime,’ he said. ‘Another drink?’

‘Thanks, yeah. I’ll get them.’

‘No, allow me. Same again?’

And with that, he stood up and returned to the bar, leaving their empty glasses on the table to be collected by the bar staff later.

Kate would approve; she’d said to let the man pay on the first date. Although Jo would have preferred to at least buy a round.

A couple of minutes later, Tarquin returned, placing the drinks on the table. He sat down opposite her, and took her hand. It was a little clammy, she thought, but you couldn’t judge someone for that. Perhaps he had a medical condition.

‘What are you looking for, Jo?’ he said.

‘I er…’

She wasn’t sure how to answer that question. Saying she was looking for love sounded a bit too full on.

‘Because I’m looking for a serious relationship,’ Tarquin said. ‘I like to establish that from the word go, so we aren’t wasting each other’s time.’

Was he for real?

She gazed into his eyes, hoping to discern whether or not he was genuine, but he was focused on something beyond her, over her shoulder. She turned around to see what he was looking at. There was a mirror behind her that she hadn’t noticed before, and Tarquin was staring at his own reflection. He licked his fingertip and smoothed one of his eyebrows then ran his fingers through his hair, angling his head as he checked himself out. He caught her watching him and turned back to her, a mischievous smile on his lips.

‘Vanity.’ He laughed. ‘One of my many sins. Though not the one I enjoy the most.’

Jo felt her cheeks reddening. She took a hasty swig of wine and tried to push the thought of what it might be like to ‘sin’ with Tarquin to the back of her mind. She couldn’t remember fancying a man quite this much.

She hadn’t quite finished her Pinot Noir when he said, ‘Listen, I have to call it a night – early start tomorrow – but I’d love to see you again.’

‘Sure,’ she said, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. Kate had said. Don’t be too keen. Men like the chase. ‘Although I’m pretty busy.’

‘How about Friday?’

Jo knew full well she was free but decided to check her diary to keep up the illusion of not being too available. She reached into her bag and pulled out her trusty Filofax, opening it to the calendar section.

‘A Filofax,’ said Tarquin. ‘Cute. Haven’t seen one of those in years.’

Jo couldn’t tell from his tone if he was admiring her old-fashioned organiser, or mocking her for having one, so she simply said, ‘Yes, I could make Friday.’

‘Perfect.’

They stood up and he put a proprietorial hand in the small of her back – she shivered at his touch – and he guided her out of the pub, pressing his key fob to open the car.

Jo glanced at the road. It was about three miles back to Halifax, but Hebbleswick lay in the opposite direction. It didn’t make sense to let him drive her to Halifax, only to catch the train back again. Perhaps if she pointed this out, he’d offer her a lift; it would take him no time at all to run her back to Hazel Lane. Not in that car. And then perhaps he’d kiss her goodnight on the doorstep and…

‘Aren’t you getting in?’ he said. ‘I’ll run you back to Halifax.’