She is perched with a perfectly straight back, her hair set in tight gray curls, wearing a two-piece suit with plaid slacks and matching single-breasted coat. Her makeup is flawless with that gorgeous, powdered finish that older ladies seem to go for. I smile at her. We’ve not really seen each other since I moved in, and I feel guilty about it.
“Mara, my dear,” she says, turning her body stiffly to try to see me. I move farther round in front of her so she doesn’t have to turn at all. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” I say, grimacing inwardly at the compliment.
“Maggie, would you have any issue with us doing the place up a bit?” Ash says, launching right in.
“Oh, I don’t know anything about that sort of business, as you know, Ash,” she says, waving a gloved hand away.
“You wouldn’t have to do anything. I’m not talking about fullGrand Designs–style make over,” says Ash. “Just plug a few gaps, paint a few walls, that kind of thing.”
“It’s fine, Ash. I know you,” she says, looking out to the sea now as if she’s had enough of the conversation.
“Oh, that would be amazing, thank you,” I say, as Ash motions me to move away from her.
“I’ll be in touch, Maggie,” he says, as he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the other side of the pier. His hand is warm and large and strong and covers mine almost completely. I pull it away.
“What’s the hurry?”
“She wants to be alone,” he says, as I sit back down on the bench and study Ash’s face. He is more perceptive than he seems.
“Shouldn’t we sign a contract or agreement about it?” I ask.
“It’s okay; leave all those details with me.”
“Um, I just think we should agree on what we’re doing first,” I say, as tactfully as I can. “Like, exactly what we’re painting, and, um... the color?”
Ash laughs. “Relax, Mara. We’ll get to all that.”
I bristle. Ihatebeing told to relax. But before I have a chance to probe further, he has changed the subject.
“So, what’s this favor you want me to do, then?” he asks, breaking off a piece of crispy battered cod and shoveling it into his mouth. “The one I’m getting free dinner for.”
“I thought with the haircut I’d get a profile pic for my socials,” I say. Although I’m embarrassed to say it out loud, I do anyway. Besides, I’ve seen Ash in his underwear.
“Your socials?”
“Yes, that’s what my workmate Samira calls them.”
“I know Samira,” he says, tossing a chip up into the sky and catching it in his mouth. “Up-leveling your personal brand. Aninfluencer.”
“Sort of,” I say weakly, shoving my mouth full of chips so I don’t need to elaborate further.
“Hot new profile pic with the new hair and the new coat for the hot new man to see?” he says, grinning, and now I feel so incredibly embarrassed the deep heat in my neck blossoms across my cheeks.Fucking hell.
“Hey, I’m just messing with you, Mara,” he says quickly. “Of course I’ll help.”
“I feel like an idiot now,” I say.
“Ignore me. I’m the big, dumb idiot. What do I know about love?” he says, taking a swig of his Coke. “Let’s do this. What look are you going for?”
“Just this look. The Mara look,” I say, looking as broodily as I can out toward the sea. “I can change the packaging, but the permanent look of deflation remains.”
“Permanent? I’ve seen you smile,” he says, with his eyebrows raised as if he’s not going to let me get away with that. He rubs his hands down the pants of his boilersuit, stands up, and then grabs his iPhone from a zipped side pocket.
“You put yourself down too much,” he says now; then he fiddles with his settings and before I have a chance to protest, he adds, “I’ll use mine; it’s newer and has a really good camera.”
I slide my old phone in its big yellow bumper case into my handbag and sit with the greasy beige paper in my hands. And then I look up at Ash as the sun emerges from behind a cloud and the golden glow hits my eyes. He spins around and looks at the sun for a moment, and then back to me.
