‘Get yourself a career. Become financially stable. You won’t regret the hours you studied harder and worked longer than everyone else when you’re in control of your own destiny and never have to rely on anyone.’
I swallowed several times because the old memory had left a sour taste in my mouth. That was how it had always been with my mum. I did well at school, but every achievement had been tainted by her needing to know who’d scored higher than me. With the benefit of hindsight and the wisdom of age, I eventually came to realise that her drive for me to succeed was tangled up in her own struggle as a single parent after my father had left us. But however well-intentioned she’d been, the takeaway had always been that however great my achievement, it was never quite enough.
‘Ellie? Ellie?’
I jumped out of the reverie to find Henry looking at me with obvious concern.
‘I’m sorry. Did you say something? I was miles away.’ Years away would have been more accurate, but Mum had always been big on never showing emotional vulnerability. It seemed like that particular apple hadn’t fallen very far from the tree.
‘I was just asking if I could interest you in a glass of chilled lemonade.’ He reached into another compartment of the canvas bag and pulled out an old-fashioned thermos flask. ‘I make it myself. It was my wife’s recipe, and I have to admit, it’s exceedingly good.’
‘Go on then,’ I said, smiling at this kindly elderly gentleman who seemed to be my newest and most surprising friend.
He pulled off the thermos cap, revealing a second beaker beneath it, and poured out two drinks.
‘Cheers,’ he said, holding up his white plastic cup and clinking it against the one he’d just passed to me.
It was incongruous and kind of crazy, but also funny and charming. I glanced over at the headstone and realised that Mum would actually have found it really amusing. She might have had high, often unrealistic, expectations of me, and life hadn’t always dealt her the kindest of hands, but her sense of humour had miraculously remained intact.
Henry saw the direction of my gaze and tilted his own cup towards the black granite headstone in a salute. ‘And cheers to you too, Elizabeth.’
That was the moment when I knew that Henry was exactly the friend I needed in my life right then.
Chapter Twenty
He wasn’t late. It was more that I was ridiculously early. I’d left work two hours before I actually needed to – as though I’d somehow forgotten how long it took to shower and wash my hair. And for someone who’d been wearing make-up for over twenty years, my confidence in applying it this evening had been decidedly shaky. As had my hand, which meant my first two attempts at eyeliner had ended very badly indeed.
I refused to accept I was nervous, despite the irrefutable evidence that I clearly was. I’d been all fingers and thumbs when pinning up my hair into the loose-tendril updo style I’d chosen to showcase the backless dress. When I was eventually ready, the woman staring back at me in the full-length bedroom mirror didn’t look entirely like me. She was more sultry and sexier than the person who normally lived behind the glass, or was that just the dress?
My phone pinged with an incoming message, and I felt my stomach drop away like floors in a plummeting lift as I snatched it up from the bedside table. He’s cancelling. I have no idea where that thought had come from, or why. It certainly hadn’t been from Rhys’s last message, sent earlier that afternoon, when he’d let me know what time the cab taking us to the event would get here.
Anyone would think this is your first date, ever, Old Ellie – who knew perfectly well that it wasn’t – interjected scornfully. Terrific, now even my subconscious was calling it a date.
I felt a rush of pure relief when I saw Mel’s name on my phone screen and not Rhys’s.
Are you dressed and ready? Send me a photo.
I shook my head, laughing softly. Mel was taking way too much interest in my evening plans. ‘That’s just what old married people do,’ she’d said, ‘we live vicariously through our single mates’ love lives.’
I could have wasted my breath yet again by reminding her that I currently didn’t have a love life, but I knew this was more about her finding something to distract herself from her fertility struggle. It really wasn’t about Rhys and me at all.
I rattled off a couple of quick selfies and sent them to her and her reply came back almost instantly.
Poor guy. He doesn’t stand a chance. Have fun xx
I was still smiling when the sound of an engine idling in the street below had me hurrying to the window. Or moving as fast as I could manage in the ridiculously high shoes I’d teamed with my dress. It was surprising how quickly I’d forgotten how to walk in heels. And my feet had already warned me they’d be doing some serious protesting over my choice of footwear before the night was over.
I peered through my bedroom window, but my view was hindered by the old sprawling elm in the front garden. Some of the residents claimed it blocked out too much light and wanted it cut down, but I’d always rather liked the way its branches threw lacy shadows into the flat.
The sound of the front door buzzer made me jump and I hurried to the intercom to answer it.
‘It’s me. I’m early. I’m sorry, we can circle the streets for a while, if you want.’
‘No, that’s okay. Come on up,’ I said, pressing the door release and using the sixty seconds or so it would take Rhys to climb the three flights of stairs to erase the stupid grin off my face.
I used to be so much better at playing it cool, I told my reflection in the hallway mirror. Perhaps that was the problem. It was an interesting thought to explore, but not now. Not when I could hear his footsteps on the last few stairs and my heart was already beating way faster than necessary.
‘The traffic was non-existent, and every light was green,’ Rhys led with, before breaking off as I opened the door wider and his eyes took me in. I couldn’t help the frisson of pleasure at the expression I caught in them.