“Just when I thought you were fitting in,” she says wistfully.
“I’ll be back on Monday. And don’t forget to talk to Gerry. I mean it!”
“Yes, yes,” she says. “Fine, fine.”
I hang up and look at Ash, who is trying to remove the film of grease on his face and fingers with a tiny paper towel.
“Was it worth it?” I ask.
“Hell yes,” he says.
I tip the last of my coffee into my mouth and then lean forward, lowering my voice. “I actually really like my workmates,” I say. “They’ve grown on me. When I first arrived, I thought I would have nothing in common with any of them. And as it turns out, I like them. All three of them.”
“You seem to be settling in,” he says, pulling back the tab on his Coke, which makes that refreshing hiss. “I’ve noticed a change, at least. You hardly spoke that first night we hung out. And now you don’t shut up.”
He’s teasing, and I return his wry, cheeky smile, eyes sending the message that I will seek revenge at some point. If I could shove him over from across this Formica table I would. I picture it, pushing him to the ground and then engaging in a playful wrestling match that is just a front for the hard-to-ignore sexual tension that is building between us. It’s becoming a problem. The skinny-dipping night was so tantalizingly close to crossing some kind of line, and I am grateful that it didn’t.
“Yeah, I am settling in,” I say, shaking the image from my mind. “I love their directness. It’s so refreshing. My friend Charlie, sinceshe got married, she’s been so hard to read. And now that she has Alex and the baby, I’ve started second-guessing her. I hate it.”
“Maybe she’s struggling,” Ash says, tipping the last of his Coke down his throat.
“Who?”
“Your friend Charlie,” he says. “My sister really struggled with loneliness and isolation when she had her baby. She took medication for it.”
“Oh,” I say. “I don’t think so. Not Charlie. She’s never been short on friends. She has mummy groups and all sorts of weird baby activities she’s always going to with her new friend Ella or Bella or Stella or Daniella.”
But as I’m saying it, I think about our exchange this morning. Did she want to talk? As intalk?
“My sister put on a pretty brave face too,” he says, shrugging. “Don’t underestimate how hard it can be is all I’m saying, Mara.”
“All right, Mum,” I say, rolling my eyes, trying to ignore a niggling worry about Charlie.
“Are we going to talk about that?” he says.
“What?” I say absently, my mind still on Charlie.
“Your parents. Your dad. Your mum. Your brother? Any of it? I’d like to know what I’m walking into.”
“Sure. I mean. Okay.”
It’s my turn to drive, and I slide into the driver’s seat while Ash directs me toward the motorway on-ramp with a lazy wave of his hand.
“There,” he says.
“Can you give me more bloody notice?” I say, turning too swiftly and nearly taking out a traffic cone. “I need clear, precise instructions. Like the satnav.”
He nods and fixes the satnav to the hands-free mount.
“Stay on the M11 for one hundred sixty-nine miles,” says the satnav lady.
“A hundred and sixty-nine miles? At least you won’t need directions anytime soon,” says Ash, sinking back into his seat.
I grin as I squeeze the accelerator and it responds with a powerful purr and eases quickly forward. “The thing about my car is that it doesn’t really break fifty. This is literally the fastest I’ve driven. You might die.”
After a minute or so of him watching me like an eagle, hands gripping the seat as I overtake a car, he begins to relax.
“So, about your parents?”
