Page 31 of The Woman Who Said Yes

‘Yeah, but still.’ I grin up at him. He’s a good seven or eight inches taller than I am, and in our younger days, when we’d rollick tipsily around Soho, the joke was that I fitted snugly under his arm. ‘I feel like I should’ve brought you chocolates!’ I announce.

‘Well, yeah.’ He sniggers. ‘Next time⁠—’

‘C’mon.’ I jab his arm playfully. ‘You do realise she was hitting on you?’

‘I don’t think so,’ he says dismissively, already tidying up the workbench in preparation for Farrah casting her eagle eye around the place tomorrow. Of course she was, I want to tell him. And you know it too. I can’t quite put my finger on why this is a little startling to me. Sam is a good-looking man, and a kind and decent person and, I guess, highly eligible. I mean, obviously he is all of those things, and Eva and I can’t be the only ones to appreciate his qualities. I remind myself that he has an extremely full and busy life beyond the Knitwits, and for all I know women are foisting honey and sea salt chocolates on him all the time!

‘Well, I think you should go,’ I say slyly as he locks up the shop.

‘Go where?’

‘To Lucy’s exhibition!’

He exhales and shakes his head. ‘Give me that,’ he says, meaning my tote bag containing the perfectly restored Gideon safely blanketed in thick towelling. I hand it to him and he loops the handles over his shoulder.

He could date her, I decide as we stroll towards the bus stop together. I’d put her as a decade or so younger than us, but so what? She is an interesting, talented and extremely attractive woman, and I have already convinced myself that she is perfect for Sam. As we wait at the bus stop, I’m picturing him arriving shyly at her solo exhibition, and her face breaking into that arresting gap-toothed smile as she spots him and hands him a wine and introduces him to her arty friends. That would be so great for him! I tell myself, trying to ignore the crushing sensation around my heart.

Of course Sam has had the odd girlfriend over the years since Bibi left. Not that he’s divulged much, to my and Eva’s frustration. Even when we’d forced him to bring someone along for a drink, we never managed to get much of a handle on his feelings for her. ‘There really isn’t anything to tell,’ he’s said, maddeningly, when we’ve grilled him. ‘It’s fine. It’s nice. It’s all good.’

At the station now, Sam hands me my tote bag and I thank him again. ‘Sorry about the eye,’ he says. ‘I don’t know what the hell happened there.’

‘Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault—’ My phone beeps with a message, and I check it. ‘It’s Eva. She’s asking when we can go wedding-outfit shopping.’

Sam smiles wryly, aware that this will be a full-day event. ‘Lucky you.’

I pause, about to pocket my phone. But instead, I go to my photos and bring up my picture of Dom’s scribbled lines in that little blue notebook. ‘I can’t stop thinking about this,’ I admit. We both study it for a moment. ‘D’you think we should check it out?’

‘What d’you mean?’ Sam asks.

‘I mean, go there. I’ve looked it up. It just looks like a normal residential street…’

‘But why would we go?’ He looks genuinely baffled. ‘I mean, what would we be looking for?’

‘I don’t know!’ I exclaim. ‘But wouldn’t that be the point?’

He laughs and looks around furtively, as if Dom might be lurking in the vicinity. ‘I guess we could, if you feel it’s absolutely necessary…’

‘I’ve got a couple of days off work with Dad and Trudy coming. They’re not exactly early risers, though. Maybe one morning, if you could leave the shop for a bit?’

‘Yeah.’ He nods, looking thoughtful. ‘I guess I could do that.’

‘I mean, I could go by myself,’ I add. ‘It’s just a house. There won’t be anything to see⁠—’

‘No, no, I’ll come with you,’ he says firmly.

I smile, not quite sure why I’m so happy about this – the fact that, on top of this morning, here’s something else that we’ll be doing together. ‘Thanks, Sam. I’ll message you, okay?’ I hug him as the red double-decker appears. ‘And you’re right. It’s probably nothing. Just an ordinary house,’ I clarify, aware that I might be dragging him away from the shop for nothing.

‘I know. That’s fine.’ Sam’s beautiful brown eyes glint playfully as I board the bus. ‘Let’s go and look at a house.’

18

WEDDING COUNTDOWN: 39 DAYS

Sam

Sam hadn’t expected to be pulled into the planning of Eva and Dom’s big day. He’d assumed – actually hoped – that Eva would rely on Andie for all of that. Despite the Knitwits being a trio, certain responsibilities fall under the girls’ jurisdiction – and yes, he is allowed to use the term ‘girls’ in this context as that’s how Eva and Andie term themselves (although admittedly he’s never uttered it when Theo has been in the vicinity).

For instance, the booking of holiday accommodation. Five years on, they still enjoy berating him about that Amsterdam Airbnb he’d chosen, situated so far out in the suburbs it was ‘virtually in Belgium’, as Andie quite rightly pointed out. Precisely nothing was happening there – apart from women having their highlights done ‘in the last salon on earth,’ Eva retorted, ‘where they still use the rubber cap method.’