Daniel watched me over the rim of his glass; he’d always had this awful habit of being able to stare right down into my soul, it felt like.
‘After your husband died, you mean?’
I nodded. It felt odd to be talking about these things with Daniel, as if it was a part of my life that I didn’t want him to know about. I didn’t want him to see me as the clever girl who gave up on her dreams; I wanted to be the Evie he remembered. How had he described me? Clever and devastatingly witty. I wanted to be that Evie again, the one that wrote plays and was obsessed with Hemingway, just for a little while at least. Daniel obviously sensed my reluctance to talk about all that; to my relief, he changed the subject.
‘I couldn’t believe it, when I saw you come into that coffee shop the other day. It blew my mind. You looked just the same, you had your hair tucked under that hat, but I knew it was you.’
‘You were in the coffee shop?’ I asked; how had I not spotted him? In fact, how had nobody spotted him?
‘Yep, I was sat in the corner, at the back. If I go somewhere on my own, with no fuss, people either don’t notice me or they’re polite enough to leave me alone. That’s why I like New York – there’s always someone well known wandering around. It’s no big deal.’
‘Well, someone spotted you,’ I said.
‘You mean that picture of us in the bookstore? That’s been dealt with.’
‘Dealt with how?’
‘My lawyer sorted it. It happens all the time.’
‘That must be a right pain in the arse,’ I said.
‘That it is. An expensive one too.’
‘Well, I’m sure you can afford it. What are you down to now? Your last fifty million or so?’ I laughed.
‘Something like that.’
I nearly spat out my wine; I’d only been joking. He had fifty million fucking quid? No wonder he hadn’t so much as blinked when he ordered that three hundred dollar bottle of wine the other night. Jesus!
‘Shall we order some food?’ he asked, picking up his menu.
‘Sure, why not?’ Although I wasn’t sure I’d be able to swallow; my throat had gone dry. I ordered the seafood linguine on Giovanni’s recommendation – ‘My mamma’s special sauce recipe’ – and Daniel ordered a steak.
‘I’m not going to have to perform the Heimlich on you tonight, am I?’ I asked, pouring myself a glass of water in an attempt to dilute the effects of champagne and wine on an empty stomach. I had quite a nice little buzz going but I didn’t want to get blind drunk.
‘Will it involve you wrapping your arms around me and pressing me up against that gorgeous body of yours?’ Daniel asked, leaning across the table and taking hold of my free hand. I almost dropped the bloody jug of water I was holding in the other one. He watched me closely, and I swallowed involuntarily. He was stroking the back of my hand with his thumb and he wouldn’t stop staring. ‘Well?’ he said, after I didn’t reply.
Now, dear reader, what would you have done in my situation? You’re sitting across from a movie heart-throb, a man you’d spent quite a few hours snogging the face off when you were both much younger, and this man had just all but told you he wanted you. How should a woman respond to that? Well, I can’t answer for all women, only myself. And please bear in mind that I’d had a couple of drinks by this point.
‘It does, if you want it to. Seems a bit risky though,’ I said. I hadn’t had a good old flirt for so long; this was going to be fun.
‘Risky? How so?’ His thumb was still stroking my hand, making my pulse jump.
‘If I don’t manage to save you, you could choke to death. And all because you can’t keep your hands off me. I’m not sure it would be worth the risk,’ I said.
Daniel’s eyes were glittering with a heady mix of amusement and lust. ‘I think it would be totally worth it, Evie. Do you think we should give it a try?’
The room had suddenly become very hot. Flirting was one thing, but this was getting a bit dangerous.
‘I think you should calm down and eat your food,’ I said, as Giovanni appeared at our table with our order. I’d been starving five minutes ago, now I was finding it hard to concentrate on just breathing in and out, let alone eating a plate of pasta. We ate in silence for a few minutes; I could see Daniel smiling at me between mouthfuls. I had to get the conversation back onto safer ground.
‘Tell me about you and Maria,’ I said, between mouthfuls of linguine. Giovanni had been right – his mamma’s sauce recipe was heavenly. Daniel put down his knife and fork and picked up his wine.
‘Well, that’s a bucket of conversational cold water thrown over my libido right there. Cheers!’ He raised his glass and took a drink.
‘I’m sorry, I just wanted—’
‘To calm things down a bit?’ he interrupted. I nodded my agreement and he grinned. ‘That’s all right. You’re very sensible. You always were.’
‘So, what happened between the two of you? If you don’t mind talking about it?’
‘No, I don’t mind. Like I said to you last night, we should have broken up years ago, but we hung on. At one stage, Maria was going to stop acting and we were going to have a family, but it never worked out that way. We couldn’t get pregnant and then she was offered an acting gig on a long running TV show and that was that. She said she didn’t want to be a mother any more. I don’t think I dealt with that particularly well.’
‘That must have been hard, for both of you.’
‘Yeah, and I acted like a complete arsehole about the whole thing. But I thought things had got better. She seemed much happier. Turns out that had nothing to do with me. She fell in love with one of the directors on her show. They’ve been together for a while, but he’s married so for the moment everyone’s happy to continue with the charade that Maria and I are still together.’ He drained his glass and poured himself another, and then he topped up mine.
‘It seems like I’m surrounded by people either having affairs or being cheated on. I just don’t get it.’
‘Get what? People cheat, it happens.’
‘Not to me,’ I said. ‘I was happily married. I loved Tom and he loved me. Doesn’t seem fair somehow. We actually wanted to be together, but life had other plans for us.’ The tears formed, unbidden, at the corners of my eyes and I wiped them with my napkin.
‘Jesus, Evie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. If it means anything, Maria cheated on me. I would never have done that to her.’
Get yourself together, you silly woman. Why are you crying?
‘It’s fine, Dan, really. And if it means anything, I’m sorry she did that to you. It must have been horrible.’
‘It is, or at least it was. Although it’s nothing compared to what you must have been through.’
I really didn’t want to talk about Tom. Then why did you bring it up? I could hear Tom’s voice telling me off. Why had I brought it up? When I didn’t say anything, Daniel reached across and took my hand.
‘I have to say though, these past few days, things suddenly seem a lot more tolerable. Like someone has opened a window and let some light in.’
Did he mean me? I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just raised my glass.
‘Well, here’s to letting the light in.’
We ate the rest of our meal in comfortable silence, listening to the piano player crooning along to Christmas classics. After we’d finished eating, Daniel pulled his chair around the table, so he could sit next to me, and when he reached out and took my hand, holding it under the table so no one would see, I didn’t move away. My hand seemed to slot perfectly into his. A strange mix of excitement tempered by guilt settled in the pit of my stomach.
*
We stayed at the restaurant until they’d cleared away every table but ours and the waiters were counting their tips.
‘I think we need to go,’ I whispered to Daniel. He looked around, as if only just noticing that we were the only ones left.
‘I think you’re right. Giovanni, ma
y I have the bill, please?’
Giovanni jumped up from his stool by the bar and brought it over to us.
‘Let me pay for this,’ I said, reaching for my bag. ‘You paid last time.’
‘Nope. I invited you out for dinner, you’re not paying.’ He walked over to the bar with Giovanni before I could stop him. I put my coat on, feeling a bit peeved that he hadn’t at least let me contribute.
‘I could have paid my own way,’ I said as we left the restaurant.
‘I know that – you can get the next one,’ he said.
‘The next one? You seem very confident that there will be a next one,’ I said as we walked.
‘Not confident, just hopeful,’ he said, before pulling me towards him and kissing me gently on the lips. He pulled back and he watched me, and when I didn’t push him away or slap him on the cheek for being so forward, he moved closer again.
‘Am I allowed to be hopeful, Evie?’ he asked quietly. ‘Say yes. Tell me I’m not imagining all this.’
He wasn’t; I’d felt it last night. ‘You’re not imagining it,’ I said. I wanted to at least be honest about that. He guided me towards a darkened shop doorway and pulled me close.
‘Evie,’ he whispered my name into my mouth as he kissed me again, harder this time, with more passion than I’d ever felt. My hands seemed to move of their own accord, sliding up his chest and then around his neck. We kissed like the teenagers we used to be, all hot breath and sliding tongues, and he held me so tightly I could feel how much he wanted me.
‘God, I want you so much. Do you realise what you do to me?’ he said, as we stood wrapped in each other’s arms in that shop doorway. No one could see us, but I was still a little nervous. I felt giddy and weak from wanting him too. I had to stop things before they got out of hand.
‘We should go,’ I said. ‘What if someone sees us? You’re still supposed to be in love with Maria, remember?’
‘Fuck,’ he said, stepping away from me and raking his hands through his hair in frustration. ‘This is a mess. I want to be honest with people. I want to shout from the rooftops that I’m happy. For the first time in ages, I’m happy.’ He came over to me and took my face in his hands. ‘You make me happy,’ he said, before kissing me so gently it made me want to weep. I didn’t know what to say; I was glad that he was able to feel such joy, but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to match his enthusiasm and I didn’t have it in me to hurt him. How could I tell him that it all felt too impossible for me to even contemplate? How could I explain that, even after ten years, it still felt as if I was betraying my husband in some way?
‘My sister will be expecting me back. She’ll be worried,’ I lied. ‘I have to go, Daniel.’
I saw the disappointment sweep across his face before he managed to tuck it away behind a smile. ‘Of course, I understand. I’ll get us a car.’ He pulled out his phone and dialled a number. Within a few minutes we were sitting in the back of a black SUV, heading to my sister’s building. Something between us had changed; Daniel hadn’t reached for my hand or even looked at me really. I’d told him there was hope – why had I said that if I wasn’t sure I meant it? Had I just got caught up in the moment? Who wouldn’t? The handsome actor tells you that he wants to see you again – how could I have said no to that? All too quickly we arrived at my sister’s place and I turned to Daniel.
‘It’s been a wonderful evening, thank you so much. For everything.’
‘No problem. I’m glad you had a good time.’ He gave me a tight smile and then he went back to staring straight ahead.
When nothing else seemed forthcoming, I muttered, ‘Goodbye’ and then reached for the door handle.
‘Evie, wait, please.’
I faced him, and the sadness in his eyes made me want to weep.
‘I’m sorry if I scared you, or came on too strong. I didn’t mean to. Can we just go back to how things were in the restaurant? Please?’
‘I don’t want to hurt you, Daniel. I don’t know if I can be everything you want me to be. I don’t want to lead you on.’
‘Can we just go back to being old friends, then? I’ll have to work on not trying to jump your bones every time I see you but I’m an adult. I’m sure I can manage to act like one.’
The truth was, I did want to see him again. Being in his company had reminded me how much I’d liked him; not as a boyfriend but as a person. He was funny and interesting and kind. And he made me feel special, as if I had more to offer the world than just my superb parenting skills.
‘All right, let’s just be two old friends together, then.’
He looked relieved. ‘So can two old friends get together again? Tomorrow maybe? After the show? Just coffee, nothing sinister.’
‘Oh, shit, you’re not expecting me to sit through that crappy play of yours again, are you?’ I asked with a grin. I was hoping not; I think it must have been the sight of him on stage that had got me all worked up in the first place.
He chuckled. ‘No, I wouldn’t do that to you – we’re mates, aren’t we? Come to the stage door around eleven. I’ll be waiting.’
‘Okay.’ I opened the door and got out.
‘Evie?’
I turned.
‘Thank you for tonight. I had a fantastic time.’
‘Me too. See you tomorrow.’ I closed the door and went inside Kate’s building.
Twenty
I turned my key, ever so gently, in the door, pushing it open as quietly as I could. I listened for any telltale sex sounds; the last thing I wanted to do was walk in on my sister and Ryan, shagging on the kitchen island. I couldn’t hear anything but that didn’t necessarily mean they weren’t having it away somewhere. I shuddered at the prospect. The image of Ryan on top of my sister was one I didn’t want to give headspace to.
I crept along the hallway; my sister was sitting in the living room, by herself. I checked my watch – it was almost three in the morning. What the heck was she doing? On the coffee table in front of her there were a half empty bottle of wine and two glasses. I assumed one was Ryan’s; where was he?
I walked into the kitchen and took off my shoes. ‘Damn, these shoes are beautiful, but they kill my feet,’ I said. Kate turned to face me, and I could tell straight away that she’d been crying. I went and sat down beside her.
‘What’s wrong? What’s happened?’
She wiped a stray tear away and sniffed before pouring herself some more wine.
‘Do you want some?’ she asked. I shook my head and she shrugged. ‘Suit yourself, more for me.’ She took a long sip and then leaned back on the sofa. Still clutching the glass.
‘Where’s Ryan?’ I asked, hoping she wasn’t going to say, ‘Upstairs naked in my bed.’ She didn’t.
‘Gone home to his wife. She called him, screaming down the phone, and he always goes running when she gets hysterical like that. He says he’s frightened of what she might do.’
‘Like what?’
‘Hurt herself, or the kids. She’s unstable. It’s all so horrible.’
I took a deep breath; I knew Kate wouldn’t want to hear what I was about to say, so I braced myself for the explosion.
‘Do you think that maybe she’s unstable because she knows she’s married to a man who can’t keep it in his pants?’ I waited for her vehement denials, but none came. She just laid her head back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. ‘Kate, please don’t hate me for saying this but doesn’t he remind you of Dad? The way he’s painting his wife as hysterical, unreasonable even, the same way Dad used to describe Mum.’ My father would tell anyone who would listen that it was my mother’s irrational behaviour that drove him away, that made her impossible to live with. As I got older, I started to understand that this wasn’t the case. It was Dad’s inability to stay faithful that pushed Mum to the edge, not the other way around.
‘How come you managed to avoid ending up with a man like Dad? All the men I’ve dated have either treated me like shit, or they’ve given me major self
-esteem issues, just like he did to Mum. How did you avoid all that and end up with someone as great as Tom?’
‘Just lucky, I guess.’ The mention of Tom made me feel guilty about where I’d just come from. The lingering memory of Dan’s lips on mine, his hands around my waist, caused my stomach to churn with nerves. I picked up the other empty glass and poured myself a drink. Kate sat up. ‘Changed your mind?’
‘I have a feeling this conversation is going to require some lubrication. Cheers.’ I clinked my glass against hers and sat back on the sofa with her. We both stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before Kate finally spoke.
‘Tom would never have treated you the way Dad did Mum. Tom was one of the good guys. I loved him a lot.’
‘Me too.’
‘Do you still miss him?’
‘Every day. Some days I can cope with it, other days not so much.’
‘Even after all this time?’
‘Yep. It doesn’t go away, it becomes part of you. Grief is a chronic illness. You live with it and go about your day never knowing when it’s going to flare up and incapacitate you. It has no cure and no end.’
Kate laid her head on my shoulder. ‘I don’t know how you managed to carry on after it all happened,’ she said. ‘I think I would have crawled under my bed and stayed there.’
‘You know better than anyone that I almost didn’t make it. If it hadn’t been for you that day…’
‘We don’t have to talk about this… I…’
I shook my head. ‘It’s fine, Kate, really. I’m not ashamed of it. For a long time, I felt guilty about it. Trying to end it all when I had two kids who were depending on me. I felt sick when I thought about it.’
City of Second Chances Page 22
