‘See, you’re the only one who reminds me of that,’ he said nostalgically. ‘Do you ever wonder what would’ve happened if we’d stayed together?’
She wondered briefly if he still had feelings for her but then had a sudden flashback of the Tadpole and reminded herself to cop on. Though, in truth, she did still have feelings for him – warm feelings of familiarity and affection. They’d never fought like other couples she knew. They’d just sort of set .?.?. like jelly.
‘What do you think would’ve happened, Francis?’
‘I think we needed to split when we did,’ he mused.
‘Agreed, but maybe we’ve both had some time apart, time to reflect, and .?.?.’
‘You’ve never been to my flat, have you?’ he said innocently. ‘D’you fancy coming back to watch a movie, maybe grab a takeaway?’
Ally realised she was ravenous and hadn’t had much since breakfast.
‘I don’t know .?.?.’
‘Oh, come on .?.?.’
‘You know what? That sounds perfect.’
A few minutes later, they were standing in the queue at Abrakebabra. OK, it wasn’t fine dining but maybe that was the whole point. She and Francis could berealtogether, without any pretence or fuss.
They linked arms and wandered up Merrion Row with their paper bags, and turned left onto Fitzwilliam Street, where Francis’s place turned out to be a one-bedroom apartment in a renovated Georgian house. The décor was entirely neutral – true to form, Francis had no taste whatsoever – so everything was purely functional. But that in itself was familiar and kind of sweet.
So, this was where he’d been all along. It was funny – when you hadn’t visited an ex’s home, you’d no context in which to visualise them anymore.
The question still bobbing around in the back of her slightly fuggy brain was: where actually was the Tadpole? On the other hand, if it wasn’t bothering him, why should it bother her?
Francis flicked on the fifty-inch TV and settled down on the sofa, where she plumped down beside him as he suggested a new thriller he knew they’d both enjoy. They leaned against each other like two cartoon cats and munched through their kebabs. Honestly. She’d forgotten how comfortable having a boyfriend was. The whole world could go ahead and do its own thing out there, because, in here, they were cosy.
At some point – it wasn’t a decision – Francis had turned and kissed her. Electric shocks didn’t run through her, but she responded naturally and .?.?. well, the bedroom felt a bit far, so he just hit pause and they stayed on the sofa. She felt him touch her in a way that was .?.?. nearly right .?.?. and she came .?.?. almost – and faked the last bit, which worked out fine. He looked happy as he un-paused the movie and put his arm around her.
‘Glass of water, Fran?’ she said, getting up. ‘It’d be good for us after the drinks.’
‘Sure,’ he said, without taking his eyes off the screen.
She wandered into the kitchenette, where everything looked like a perfect apartment fit-out, and then into the bathroom, which was modern and comfortable and had Francis’s navybathrobe hanging on the back of the door. She secretly buried her face in it for his familiar smell but then drew back – there was something different in the scent. It wasn’t the familiar Aramis scent that he’d been wearing for as long as she’d known him.
Her territorial instinct kicked in. She began to feel like a feral creature: there was an intruder in this burrow and she was going to sniff them out. She flicked open the bathroom cabinet – just because she was being an inquisitive cow – and .?.?. there it was: the bottle of Tom Ford Noir Extreme aftershave. Classic Girlfriend Present. God, if there was any scent less suited to him .?.?. That was for big growly alphas with chest hair, or men who did their own stunts like Tom Cruise. This girl obviously didn’t know him for shit.
But then, when she pushed that aside .?.?. there it was, lurking at the back: an unopened pregnancy test.
The jolt in her chest felt like an electric shock.You fool. What had she been thinking? He was totally serious about Fleur. They were serious. Fleur was therealwoman. What sort of delusion had she allowed herself to drift into? Did she really believe that her half-hearted enquiries and Francis’s careful avoidance would just make it all vanish?
He’d taken the chance for some ex-sex, and she’d handed it right to him. Suddenly, it was as though the air had gone out of her. She’d been prepared to ignore reality because she was lonely, and that was the sad truth. She snapped the cabinet shut and stumbled out of the room.
‘Fran, could you just .?.?. pause that a mo?’
‘Hmm .?.?. yeah, you OK?’ He’d clearly no notion whatsoever about the pregnancy test.
But where to even start? ‘Fran, I’m just wondering, where is Fleur this weekend?’
There was a very pregnant pause.
‘Why do we have to talk about that when we’ve just had such a nice evening?’
‘OK, well, my mood has just taken something of a dip as I’ve walked into a pregnancy test in your bathroom.’
Francis looked flustered.Deny it!she wanted to shout. Explain the exact reason, make me feel silly .?.?. make it all right.
