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Eventually Tom glances back at the front of the shop. “I should probably walk you home. I don’t want to monopolise your whole day, I’m sure you have other stuff to do.”
“Yeah,” I agree, even though I’m already dreading the date ending. “Sorry for taking up so much of your time.”
“You don’t need to apologise. I asked you out, remember?”
We walk slowly as we make our way through the crowded streets back towards my house.
One second we’re arguing about whether Jaffa Cakes count as biscuits (they don’t, the clue’s in the name, even if Tom insists they live in the biscuit aisle), and the next his hand slides against mine. His fingers curl carefully through my own, giving me the chance to pull away.
I don’t.
I hold on tighter.
When we get to my building we pause, and he slowly releases my hand. I wish this didn’t have to end, and part of me is already scrambling to work out the next time we can see each other.
Maybe he could come to the gala next weekend. With Tom there everything will be better. Kath and Sam will be there too, so at least there will be reinforcements.
“Do you want to come to an event with me next Saturday?” I ask. “The one Sam and your sister are coming to.” I realise I’m waving my hands nervously and clasp them. “It’s black tie, and it’s very short notice, so I totally get it if you don’t want to come.”
“Claire Robinson, are you asking me on a posh date?” Tom grins, taking a step towards me.
“Maybe I am.” I hold his gaze.
“I’d love to.” He pushes a strand of hair out of my face. “Just let me know what time to pick you up.”
Relief flares briefly in my chest before anxiety curls straight around it.
“You should know,” I say quickly, “these events can be… a lot.”
“A lot how?”
“My mum takes them very seriously.” I grimace. “There’ll be awkward networking, lots of forced conversations, and there’s a very strong chance she’ll try to drag me off to meet some of her friends halfway through.”
Tom huffs out a laugh. “Sounds intense.”
“That’s one word for it.” I twist my hands nervously. “And she can be quite judgemental. About… people.”
Him, I mean, but I’m not sure how to say that out loud. I know Tom, but I don’t know how to say that.
“Claire.” His voice softens. “It’ll be ok.”
“You say that now.”
“I’m serious.” His brown eyes twinkle. “I’d love to go with you.”
I chew on my lip. Normally I spend my time at these events making small talk and planning escape routes, but with Tom there, maybe it won’t feel quite so unbearable.
September
Chapter 10
Tom
Ifrown at my cufflinks. They spend so little time out of the box that I’m half surprised they still fasten properly. The last occasion that required them was a funeral, which also happens to be the last time this suit saw daylight. It’s not quite black tie, but it’s a black suit, which I hope is close enough. None of my friends had a tux ready to lend me in my size, but surely I won’t be the only one winging it. Rental prices took that option off the table almost immediately, my teacher’s salary disagreeing with spending that much money on one night.
Sam’s also frowning at his suit, using the mirror in Claire’s living room to straighten his bow tie. For someone who’s been dragged to countless fancy dinners in his career, he still looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. I’d also prefer not to have a “second date” with a group of people, including my sister… and a fancy venue.
I check my watch. Our taxi’s due any minute and the girls are still getting ready.
