The Winter We Met

by Samantha Tonge

  I turned off the television.

  ‘Oi! I was enjoying that,’ he protested.

  I took his glass of wine and placed it on the coffee table. I gave Buddy a gentle push and he jumped off the sofa and settled by my slippers.

  ‘What’s going on? Your face looked like thunder watching Nik leave Willow Court today. You’ve met him, had drinks together and shared jokes. Please, tell me you’re not still suspicious.’

  He picked up the remote control.

  ‘Don’t do that. Talk to me.’

  ‘I don’t want to argue with you, Jess. Let just watch. The last dance is coming up.’

  I sighed. ‘You still don’t like him.’

  ‘Nik’s very… nice.’

  ‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.’

  ‘What would you prefer? That, like him, I charm every living thing that crosses my path? That I’m always jolly and polite? That I always know exactly what to say?’ He put down the remote and picked up his phone. He tapped away for a moment and then showed me the screen. ‘I’ve been searching for Nik’s website. I can’t find a reference to Junior Magic anywhere. See? All that comes up is a theatre by that name and a magician.’

  ‘Perhaps his company are having problems with the website. Remember when Under the Tree’s went down and Seb’s boyfriend, computer consultant Tim, kindly offered to look at it? Look, there are a million reasons why Nik’s website might not be up and running.’

  ‘But I can’t even find any trace of the words Junior Magic on the internet, in relation to toys. You’d think shops stocking his products would list the details on their platforms. It’s as if it doesn’t exist.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake. I’ve got his business card.’

  ‘Does it mention the name of his company?’

  ‘No. Granted, it’s basic, but you’ve met Nik – he’s not a frills person.’

  ‘He looks striking. Do you remember seeing him at the fair in Germany?’ he asked earnestly.

  ‘Hundreds of people attend these trade events. Honestly, Oliver, you’re being ridiculous. You think he’s making up being a toy manufacturer?’

  ‘Conmen are masters of pretence.’

  ‘It’s not like you to be so cynical. Remember when Alf first moved into Willow Court and from the off was going on about all his conspiracy theories – no one quite knew what to make of him but you’ve always been open-minded and made a point of getting to know him first. That’s one thing I like about you – you never judge people on appearances or hearsay and won’t read celebrity gossip magazines for that reason.’

  ‘Just as well, given the outfit you wore when we first met,’ he said, the tension leaving his voice. ‘You were practically naked.’

  ‘I was wearing a swimming costume.’

  ‘In the middle of winter, on a London street, it was snowing!’

  ‘As you know, I had good reason. Anyway. Back to the issue in hand – what exactly is it that’s bothering you? I saw the looks you and Alf gave each other today.’

  ‘There’s something… off about him. I can’t put my finger on it. He’s said, himself, that his company – if it really exists – has hit hard times.’

  ‘You think... I don’t know... that he’s after me for money?’ I laughed. ‘Well good luck to him, with that.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s after the chance to start afresh here in England – marriage would give him British citizenship.’

  ‘Honestly, you’ve read too many catfishing stories and I’m perfectly capable of reaching my own judgements. I’ve followed my gut in the past. It hasn’t often let me down.’

  ‘But what about Alice? And Pan? This isn’t just about you. What if he’s after their savings? Why else would he be interested in helping out a bunch of pensioners when he could be seeing the sights in London?’

  My stomach felt increasingly tight. ‘He explained about his grandmother and why he feels comfortable in the care home – why he wants to help with the party.’

  ‘Quite a sob story, that was.’

  ‘Oliver!’

  He flushed. ‘I want to believe him, Jess, really I do – I don’t like thinking the worst. He’s just… too nice.’

  ‘That’s like saying a sunrise is too pretty or chocolate tastes too good. Surely an abundance of niceness is a good thing?’

  ‘I don’t trust his smarmy charm and old-school ways.’

  ‘Is the world really such a jaded place that we now feel sceptical of someone who displays nothing but kindness and goodwill?’

  ‘Niceness is different,’ he said and picked up one of his Chinese ribs, nibbling off a piece of meat he’d missed. ‘It’s not always genuine. I’m nice to the customers who toss their money at me or order drinks whilst talking on their phone. Nice is sugary. Saccharin. I’m surprised Glenda of all people hasn’t been more careful, he’s even sweet-talked her. She’s never been married and isn’t short of a penny.’

  ‘And she’s a good forty years older than him.’

  ‘Pan’s well-off too and not in her right frame of mind.’ He sighed. ‘Look, I kind of get it. I admit there’s something… magnetic about his personality. When he walks into a room, when he talks, you can’t help but focus on him.’

  Oliver felt that too?

  ‘I’m not listening to any more of this,’ I said, feeling a little sick as I stood up. ‘Apart from anything else, you’re speaking as if me and our friends are completely stupid. Nik has brought a ray of sunshine into Willow Court. In fact, I think as a thank you…’ I lifted my chin. ‘I’m going to ask Nik around for dinner. Tomorrow night.’

  We had a long-standing agreement that was rarely used – if either of us was dating, now and again we could ask for the flat to ourselves. I’d only taken advantage of this a couple of times and was usually relieved when Oliver came back home at midnight and I could ask yet another unsuitable date to go home. There was Jack, a customer, who’d come into Under the Tree to buy a present for his niece. We’d got chatting, hit it off and eventually went for drinks. After a couple of weeks I asked him over for dinner. He made himself at home straightaway, kicking off his shoes and lounging on the sofa whilst I made dinner.

  No one is perfect. Jack had lots of good points. He complimented my cooking and asked me questions about myself but he didn’t offer to help wash up and switched on the television whilst I did. I was wary of men if there was ever the slightest whiff of them not treating me with respect.

  Oliver hadn’t taken advantage of our agreement much more. There was Beth who travelled the world with her job and wouldn’t have been able to see him regularly. And Grace who I thought was a perfect match – she was interested in cars, like him, and they both loved board games. However designer labels were important to her and just two dates in she was trying to get Oliver to buy more upmarket clothes.

  ‘But tomorrow’s Sunday and the first part of that new thriller serial set in Rome is on.’

  ‘We can record it.’

  ‘Jess! You were going to make your amazing pesto pasta and garlic bread, whilst I bought that tiramisu ice cream we both love, and a bottle of Italian red.’

  ‘We’ll do it Monday,’ I said and walked into the kitchen. ‘Nik is spending the day visiting toy stores around Camden tomorrow – he’ll feel like a relaxing night in and I’m interested to hear what he found out.’

  Oliver turned on the television again. ‘Whatever you want.’

  I hated this, hated the awkwardness. ‘Look, I like him,’ I said, truly admitting that to myself for the first time, let alone out loud. ‘I don’t understand why you can’t just be pleased for me.’

  He met my gaze. ‘I… I’m not sure either, Jess. You deserve to be happy. I want that more than anything.’ Hastily, he looked back at the screen. ‘I admit my suspicions aren’t entirely logical,’ he said in a harder voice. ‘Let’s call it a sixth sense.’

  ‘Well, I’m going to invite him around for seven-thirty. If you could stay out until twelve, I’d appreciate it. Thanks.�
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  ‘He’ll never get a train back at that time and the sofa’s too small for him.’

  I tried not to smile and got up to make coffee.

  17

  Seb sat down next to me in the staff room. I’d just given the hospital a quick call. Angela came in to help out at weekends now that the festive buzz had started. She asked if we wanted to take our break together, during the brief lull when Sunday shoppers rested their feet in cafés or pubs – it was a treat for us to eat at the same time. Despite its moderate size, Amblemarsh was lucky to have a thriving town centre. This was thanks to the council who had taken over an empty department store building, last year. They’d decided to create a community hub with a cheap café and areas you could drop off children to be looked after, or elderly relatives with dementia, for a couple of hours, in order to look around the shops or visit the cinema. I offered him one of my crisps and he passed me a carrot stick.

  ‘How’s Alice?’ he asked.

  ‘The doctor wants to keep her in for just one more night. If her blood pressure’s still okay tomorrow, and she’s comfortable enough with her back, she can go home. I really hope that happens because her assessment for moving is Tuesday. The ward sister let me have a quick chat with her.’ I popped the carrot stick into my mouth and chewed for a moment. ‘I’m worried, Seb. She didn’t sound right.’

  ‘She’s had a massive shock.’

  ‘Two, in fact – the closure of Willow Court and now this. I’m concerned it’s all too much.’

  I wished I could talk to Oliver about it. He’d always been a great sounding board. But now there was this Nik thing between us. It was probably just as well I’d not been around for our usual Sunday brunch today, having come in early as the Christmas trade was swelling. What with everything going on, I’d made silly mistakes at work such as forgetting to buy fruit and biscuits for the weekly children’s reading club. The thought of Angela forging ahead with her plans to expand the business, and Under the Tree opening another branch, had made every day feel like Christmas during the last eighteen months since she’d first mentioned her dream. I’d pored over the details of potential properties with her, often over a cider in The Silver Swan, both of us brainstorming the decor of the next shop and the target customers for the area. I’d been with the business right from the start and felt proud of it expanding. I didn’t want Angela to doubt my commitment now.

  I offered my crisp bag to Seb and he took another.

  ‘Has that fur sloth sold out yet?’

  ‘She’ll be okay, you know,’ he said softly.

  Tears suddenly threatening, I smiled. ‘So the sloth?’

  ‘Yes. All gone. Sloths and llamas are still really holding their appeal.’

  ‘I think the parents like them even more than children. I’ll be lucky to order any more in, at this rate. I think its hammock, with suckers to stick it onto the inside of a car window, have made it a real hit.’

  He rubbed his eyes. ‘Yesterday was even busier. I’ll need an early night tonight. At least Angela liked the new window display. Dangling cotton wool balls, to look like snow falling onto the top of that cardboard Christmas cake, so that they ended up looking like icing, was a genius idea of yours. In fact, that’s given me an idea for a special display the week before Christmas …’

  It had been great watching Seb’s confidence grow. As he chatted away I tried to focus but Oliver’s comment about Nik missing the last train tonight was distracting me. What if…? My heart hop-skippity-jumped. Nik was just the distraction I needed at the moment to forget about all my problems.

  ‘So what do you think?’ Seb asked.

  ‘Huh? Um, sorry. I was miles away.’

  He studied me for a minute and grinned. ‘With that wistful look on your face I imagine you are indeed thousands of miles away, on the other side of the planet. How is our tall, distinguished Aussie? When are you seeing him next?’

  ‘Tonight, as it happens.’

  Seb bit into his wrap. ‘Pub? Club? The silver screen?’

  ‘The small screen. I’ve invited him for dinner.’

  Seb suffered a coughing fit and I slapped him on the back.

  ‘I can’t remember the last time you invited a man around to your place. You’re going to need help.’ He removed the square of kitchen roll from his lunchbox and reached behind his ear for his pen. He scribbled furiously and eventually passed the square to me.

  ‘Before Tim, when I was on the dating scene, I was always super organised and wrote lists. You’ll thank me for this.

  I put down my sandwich and scanned the sheet.

  Shave

  Nails

  Teeth

  Music

  Lighting

  Lingerie

  Protection

  ‘Seb, we’re simply eating together, not even the menu will be this long.’

  ‘Time’s ticking. A month from now he could be back in Oz. What would Jackie Collins do?’

  ‘Kick ass,’ I replied automatically. It was an exchange between us Seb always instigated when he thought I needed encouragement.

  I was still thinking about that when I got home at five. Oliver had reluctantly agreed he may as well stay out after finishing his shift at six. I took Buddy for a quick walk around the block and fed him when we got back, promising our haste would be worth it because it meant he got to enjoy the company – and cuddles – of a guest for the evening.

  I walked past the bathroom mirror and stepped back to take a closer look, chuckling to myself about Seb’s list. However, my eyebrows were a little wild. My skin looked dry and a scrub and floss wouldn’t harm my teeth. Getting paranoid, I pulled off my socks. The nails perhaps needed a slash of red polish and my fingernails would need to match, and I’d got those lacy bra and knickers that I’d bought on a whim, not realising they’d feel super itchy. I stuffed a hand down the top of my jumper and ran a finger across my armpit. It had more stubble than Seb’s chin. I looked at the clock. This was a disaster, I hadn’t got nearly enough time to get ready. Thank goodness I’d got up extra early to prepare a cottage pie. I wanted Nik to sample good old-fashioned English home cooking. For pudding I’d thawed out a rhubarb crumble I’d made in the summer. It was Gran’s favourite fruit and I’d always make a batch when it was in season, for the days she’d come over for lunch and an afternoon movie.

  I switched the shower on full-blast and washed my hair. I shaved and shaved again. Then I moisturised from top to toe once back on dry land. I went into my room and lit a lavender scented candle that was supposed to be calming, before filing my toenails. I was just about to apply the red nail varnish I’d bought once, but never used, when I caught sight of a clear lip gloss on my dressing table. It was a present from Oliver. Coconut – my favourite flavour and fragrance as it reminded me of suncream and holidays.

  I put the nail varnish down, rummaged in the chest of drawers pushed up against the far pale turquoise wall, and pulled out the lacy bra and knickers. I recalled the last man I’d brought home for dinner. Max was a high-flying executive. We’d met in Misty’s. Seb and I had headed there for happy hour and a chat with Oliver, after a late-night stocktake. For that date, I’d straightened my curls and worn a skirt and high heels. Oliver took a double take when he came through the front door and joked that I looked nothing like my normal self.

  His comment got me thinking as he’d grinned and left, warning curly-haired Buddy to watch out if I picked up my straighteners. I ended up changing back into jeans and roughed up my hair – I changed back to just being myself. As it was, Max arrived wearing jeans too – and a guilty conscience. Turned out he had a wife and this was the first time he’d considered cheating. I spent the evening listening to everything that was wrong with his marriage before sending him home early – to her.

  I put away the lacy underwear and glamorous polish. I smeared coconut gloss onto my lips and patted sparkly green shadow onto my lids to match my eyes. I defined my curls with some argan oil and slipped into a crea
m halter-neck jumper that always made me feel attractive. Then I sprayed myself generously with my current favourite fruity fragrance and put on my small lotus flower earrings that kind of matched the bracelet Nik had given me.

  I went into the lounge and switched on my Christmas jazz playlist, drew the curtains and dimmed the lights. I set up two places at the breakfast bar with a tall white candle in the middle – fragrance-free for once. I moved it to the right, then to the left – then back to the middle.

  It was twenty-five past seven. I caught sight of Oliver’s favourite hoodie, draped over the back of the sofa. Perhaps he was envious of Nik’s career. Yet he’d never shown any interest in being anything other than a barman, perhaps as a reaction to his ambitious parents working twenty-four-seven and Nik didn’t show off about being a partner in a family business. In fact, he’d revealed how Junior Magic was currently navigating choppy waters. Perhaps Oliver was just being over-protective. He and I were good friends. Yet he’d never grilled any of the other men I’d shown an interest in, over the years.

  I made the drinks, having looked up sherry cocktails online. I’d stumbled across a recipe for Tiojitos – sherry, mint and lemonade. I wasn’t going to waste any more time thinking about my flatmate’s mean-spirited thoughts. The intercom buzzed and I went over, an adrenaline rush making me feel a little shaky. Was the music too loud? Should I brighten the lights? I hurried into the bedroom and applied another generous squirt of perfume. With a deep breath, I returned to the lounge.

  18

  Nik wore a smart winter coat, chinos and shiny shoes. A whiff of spicy, woody aftershave wafted over me. I wanted to come across as elegant and seductive but couldn’t help laughing as his face was hidden behind a bunch of roses mixed amongst green foliage. The roses were red. I felt a little breathless as he passed me the flowers.

  ‘They are lovely. Thank you.’ I stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. He smelt so good.