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‘Hot date?’ she asks, smiling.
‘You wish. Have a good weekend, won’t you.’
‘And you,’ she calls after me as I hot foot it across the car park towards the bus stop. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’ Despite my rush, I can’t help but take a moment to turn around and stick my tongue out at her.
* * *
‘Is this everything?’ Lee asks me, waving my case at me as soon as I get through the door.
‘I think so. Give me five minutes to get changed and use the loo, and I’ll be ready.’
‘I’ll wait for you down by the car.’
He’s doing this to pressurise me, I know. He waits in different places depending on how much of a hurry he’s in. If there’s no pressure, he’ll lounge on the sofa. Waiting by the front door means we’re a bit short of time, and waiting by the car is tantamount to telling me every second counts.
‘Why the rush? You’re not normally this desperate to see your parents,’ I tease him once we’re out of the underground car park and on our way.
‘It’s not that I’m desperate to see them, and they’ll be working anyway. I just need to get out of the city and breathe some country air. It’s been a bit like a pressure cooker at work, don’t you think?’
‘I’m sorry you didn’t hear anything. I’m sure they’ll let us know on Monday.’
‘Yeah, I expect so.’
We lapse into silence for most of the rest of the journey. Lee’s parents own a pub in a village called East Morton, which is only about half an hour from Leeds on a good day, but will take considerably longer in the Friday rush hour traffic. He’s never particularly talkative when he’s driving, so I allow myself to daydream about Caribbean beaches to pass the time. I’m just mentally sipping a rum punch when he turns into the car park of the Farmer’s Arms.
‘We’re here,’ he states unnecessarily as he reaches for his phone and wallet. One of the things I like about Lee is that, although it took me a while to get used to how fast he drives, he is actually quite careful on the road and never lets himself be distracted when he’s behind the wheel. The phone is always locked away in a cubbyhole between the front seats and, while that means there’s often a delay when we arrive somewhere because he has to deal with emails and stuff, I definitely prefer it to the alternative. His face clouds over as he checks his messages, and I know this is going to be a delay day.
‘Are you OK to go in ahead of me?’ he says. ‘I need to make a couple of calls and then I’ll be with you.’
‘Is it about the deal?’
‘No. Just other work stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can, I promise. Don’t worry about your bag; I’ll bring it with me.’
He leans across and gives me a quick peck on the lips and, with a sigh, I open the door and step out into the cool night air. The Farmer’s Arms is a fairly typical gastropub; Lee’s parents bought it twenty years ago when it was a run-down boozer on the verge of closure, and they’ve transformed it into a thriving business. If the fullness of the car park hadn’t already given it away, the hubbub of conversation as I step through the door indicates that tonight is a typically busy Friday night. I make my way towards the bar, where Lee’s younger brother Nathan is busily pouring drinks and placing them on a tray ready to go to one of the tables.
‘All right, Ella?’ he says as I settle myself on one of the bar stools. ‘On your own tonight?’
‘Lee’s just making a couple of calls. You know what it’s like.’
‘Yeah, the cutthroat world of sales never stops. Sauvignon Blanc?’
‘Lovely, thanks, Nathan.’
I’ve barely taken my first sip before I’m enveloped in a very familiar hug.
‘Hello, Ella darling. Have you brought my son with you, or have you finally reached the end of your tether with him and left him in a bloody mess somewhere? Do I need to call the police?’
This is pretty much the greeting Lee’s mother uses every time he sends me on ahead, and I sometimes wonder what she’d do if I said I had attacked him.
‘No, he’s fine, Kate. He’s just making some calls.’
‘You both work too hard,’ she sighs.
‘Says the pub landlady!’ I laugh.
‘Touché. We’re completely full tonight, so are you OK to have something to eat at the bar? I’ll send Rosie over once Lee surfaces.’
‘Do you need a hand?’ It’s rare for an entire weekend here to pass without us being dragged in to help either behind the bar or serving tables.
