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She turned and carried on down the hill. I watched her a for a few seconds, annoyed with myself for not being able to articulate my feelings and then started out for home, swerving to avoid a dog walker with at least ten dogs on leads, all splaying out in different directions.
‘Jack!’
I looked around. Rebecca had stopped and was looking in my direction.
‘If you want,’ she shouted, ‘come round later. I’ll make cocktails or something.’
I smiled to myself. ‘Sure,’ I shouted back. ‘Eight-ish OK?’
She gave me a wave and then she was off again.
I ruffled the back of my hair, wondering what it meant and then deciding that – for once – I was just going to go with the flow and not try to control how I felt. I’d taken a risk on my career, so maybe I could take a risk on this, too?
