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‘Does your friend still make your body tingle?’ She raises an eyebrow.
‘No, actually. We haven’t touched each other much since I got back from Norway.’ I hear the disappointment in my voice.
Lara drops her fork. ‘Youmissthe tingles. Ariella Mason, you dirty ho.’
‘I do, a little,’ I admit, embarrassed.
‘Just ask him to make you tingle again. He won’t mind.’
‘Goodness no. That ruins things.’
‘No,youruined it last time with all your drama. I’m sure Caleb will gladly oblige. It’s not like he’s obliging anyone else at the moment.’
‘It’s not fair to Jasper, he said anyone but Caleb.’
‘For the billionth time, Jasper is your ex-boyfriend. Everything you do right now is your decision only. You’re single for a reason. That reason is Jasper. If you continue to behave like you are tied to Jasper, you’re wasting everyone’s and, most importantly, your time. Aaaarararrgghh!’
Lara shoves her plate away and puts her hand in the air and the waiter comes straight over.
‘Sirloin and chips please, with the macaroni cheese. Please can you take this away?’ She hands her plate over to the chuckling waiter.
‘Of course, madam.’
‘You’ll feel much better in a minute,’ I reassure her.
‘Oh, I know I will. It’s you I’m worried about. Fuck, I love that skirt!’
The chicken pie I make for dinner keeps me moving around the kitchen, and should be ready just after Caleb gets home. As predicted, he walks in just as I pop it in the oven. He’s developed the habit of getting straight into the shower when he gets in from training, which I am immensely thankful for. When he emerges, he flops on the sofa.
‘Hard day?’ I smile at him.
‘Absolute nightmare. Singapore is a shitshow and the team are driving me round the bend.’ He looks beaten.
‘Are you heading out there?’
‘Yeah, Monday.’
I open a bottle of red I know he likes and pour us a glass each. He watches me quizzically as I bring them over to the couch, while we wait for the pie to do its thing in the oven.
‘Why are you walking weird? It’s funny, but it’s super odd.’ He chuckles for the first time.
‘I think I did something to my foot arches in Norway, and they still hurt. I’ve been trying a couple of poses that might help.’
‘Show me.’
I start to lift my foot arches to sit in chair pose, while still holding on to the wine glasses, and he immediately stops me.
‘Now, that’s a grimace.’ He laughs.
‘I’m glad you find it funny,’ I say, rolling my eyes.
‘I had the same problem about a year ago. I’ll find my arch roller for you. If you come here, I think I can remember the exercises and pressure points the physio used.’
I sit on the couch and put my feet on his lap.
‘Not so fast, Cleopatra. Sit up straight with your feet flat on the floor. Now, put your left foot on your right thigh. Good, pull your toes up, toward the ankle. Wait, hold it for ten seconds.’
I watch his serious face as he looks at his watch, timing my holds.
