She allowed that to sink in.
‘OK, next time let’s take it up a notch – you better take me to the movies. You pick the film.’ There was something so uncomplicated and sweet about the movies. Like they were rolling back time to the place where life was still innocent.
He leaned forward and kissed her. She could feel the stubble as his tongue probed her mouth, eliciting an involuntary gasp. It was time to go.
‘Night,’ she whispered and scrambled out of the car.
Chapter 10
The following morning Cassie lay in bed, gazing at the pink-hued light that filled the room, and thought back over the night before. How long was it since she’d been on a date? Twenty years? Almost. She let her mind wander back to Finn’s long, pale hands and the slightly uncertain air he had at times, which somehow made her feel calmer. Never in their time together did she remember Gav looking unsure. She thought about Finn’s ex never feeling she knew him. In spite of his laconic manner, Cassie didn’t feel he was hiding from her. To whatever extent he knew himself, he was letting her see. And that was a lovely thought. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long.Oh God, I’m being kicked out, she panicked.
Finn has a lovely apartment, was her next thought. Oh no, don’t you dare, broke in her sensible self. You can sleep in the garage; you can sleep in the garden shed or in the car before it comes to that. Mam’s brisk, matter-of-fact request that she find herself somewhere to live had been shocking – not only from a logistical point of view, which was bad enough, but more, it seemed to hint that this was her mother’s house, not hers. Cassie didn’t know if she was quite ready for that. Even at thirty-seven, she was still her mother’s child. It felt like she’d been orphaned. Ridiculous, but true.
Enough wallowing, proclaimed her no-nonsense self, let’s get this show started.
‘Alexa!’ Soon the sound of an M People club classic filled the room. She jumped out of bed, swiped open the curtains and joined in karaoke-style at the top of her voice while rocking around the room in her pyjamas: ‘Moving on up, moving on out, nothing can stop me .?.?.’
Right, let’s plug into the world and see what’s out there for me. She showered and pulled on her new leggings, platform Uggs and a cornflower-blue hoodie over a white T-shirt. Dressing for spring, dressing for the future. ‘Moving on up, moving on out,’ she rocked out the door and went downstairs to make coffee.
‘Oh, pet, you look lovely, like a Wedgwood plate.’
‘Thanks.’ She eyed the stewed-looking pot of coffee doubtfully. ‘Sorry, Mam, but if I’m looking for a flat, I’m going to need a serious, proper cup of coffee – no offence.’
She fished out the stove-top coffee pot she’d brought home from London and made herself a huge cup of piping-hot Italian coffee with foaming hot milk. Mam looked sheepish.
‘Look, love, I was only giving you a heads-up for the long run. I wasn’t expecting you to move out right away.’
‘It’s fine, honestly, I think you’ve done me a favour. I need to stand on my own two feet. You’re right not to make things too comfortable for me.’
Armed with her power-latte, she sat down at the laptop and began a search of property letting sites. She had two options: try to find someone with a spare room and looking for a flatmate or rent an apartment herself and look for a second person – at least that way she’d have a bit more control. Good plan, she reasoned. However, by midday it had become abundantly clear that her ideas were wildly naive and totally out of touch with reality. She found herself scrolling past one depressing dive after another, or else ads charging exorbitant rent for anything she could inhabit with a modicum of self-respect. Once, she grew highly excited at the sight of a gorgeous double bedroom with a view through enchanting dormer windows, at an affordable price, only to realise it was in Belgium.
‘There’s always something,’ chirped Mam, sticking her head in the door. ‘You just have to look hard enough.’
This was absolute twaddle, seeing as the last time Mam had been flat-hunting was in 1974 with a copy of theEvening Heraldstuck in her handbag, the ads circled in biro.
She thought of the girls, with their husbands and their houses, and how once you had established a home of your own, the alternative scenarios simply melted away. They’d be appalled or simply couldn’t imagine anymore what it’d be like to join the crowds of people desperately phoning or standing queueing for somewhere to rent. Plus, she didn’t even have a steady job at the moment. No, no, no, this was not a good road to wander down. She thought fondly of the cosy little flat she’d left behind in Archway with Gavin. Their freewheeling life together. Or rather, his freewheeling life and her keeping the home. Nope, that ship had sailed, that sort of thinking led only to pain. She’d given London her youth and what was she left with? A lot of memories, a few regrets and a narrow window to make up for lost time.
There was something inherently lonely in feeling like you were between homes, even if you hadn’t left yet. She longed to reach out to a friend. Not Josie, who was out at the Victoria and Albert with Pal, working through their bucket list of couples’ activities to do before the baby arrived. But who? She ran through the possible reactions of her gang: Bryony and Celine would enjoy the disaster stories, but did she really want to be the butt of the jokes? Norah, for all her brusqueness, might actually take a more practical view and see it as a failure of government policy rather than Cassie’s fault for finding herself in such a vulnerable position. Still, she’d be bound to judge. No, there was only one person she felt safe enough to open up to. She looked at her watch: twelve thirty. God, let’s hope it isn’t a bad time. She ran down her list of contacts and pressed call.
‘Hi, Louise.’
‘Cassie, hey. It’s great to hear from you.’
There was no mistaking the enthusiasm in Louise’s voice.
‘I hope it’s not a bad time. I’m phoning for .?.?. nothing, honestly, just for a chat.’
‘Love it,’ broke in Louise. ‘A phone call about nothing, they’re the best type. How are you?’ Despite her plan to be upbeat, in the face of Louise’s unexpected warmth she found herself telling the truth.
‘Ish, how about you?’
‘Ish back at you.’
There was something in Louise’s tone that alerted her.
‘Hey, are you OK?’
There was a hesitation from the other end of the phone.
