‘Well, you saidHeidifirst.’
‘Okay, I’ll go withHeidi.’
‘Favourite detective?’
‘That’s easy. Lord Peter Wimsey.’
‘Good choice!’
‘You?’
‘Hm… I’ll have to say Miss Marple. A virago in tweed.’
‘Edgy!’
‘I’m so uncool. Romantic hero?’
‘Mr Darcy. I’m such a cliché. Romantic heroine?’
‘I feel I should say Dorothea Brooke but?—’
‘Too earnest. And completely deluded. She’d never have you – you’re far too suitable.’
‘Yeah. Bridget Jones would be more of a laugh. Or Elizabeth Bennet.’
‘Or anyone, really.’ Claire laughed.
Friday had been a beautiful day, and when she arrived at Luca’s place that evening, the front door was open and a couple of girls were sitting out on the steps, enjoying the last of the evening sunshine. Claire was in high spirits as she went in and raced up the stairs to Luca’s door. It was Friday night, the start of the weekend, and she had a day off tomorrow. She was in a celebratory mood. Her mother would be coming home on Sunday, and she wanted to make the most of every second of the last weekend she could spend almost entirely with Luca. She had bought cava and smoked salmon, crispy bread and lots of deli luxuries for an indulgent picnic-style dinner. She had been thinking maybe they could eat it in bed, grazing leisurely between vigorous bouts of sex.
‘Claire, hi!’ Luca opened the door and she swept pasthim into the living room. ‘I was trying to call you. You didn’t get my text?’
‘Oh! No, I mustn’t have heard it when I was out in the traffic,’ she said, fishing her mobile out of her bag. Sure enough, there was a missed call from Luca and a message alert.
‘It’s just this friend of mine is playing at The Grand Social with her band tonight, and I said I’d go. I’m sorry. I’d completely forgotten about it until she texted me about an hour ago. She gave me the tickets way back.’
‘Oh. Okay,’ she said, trying to school her features and not look too disappointed. After all, Luca had been spending all his free time with her. It was only fair that he should have a night off. It wasn’t his fault she’d built tonight up in her head and had been so looking forward to it. She just wished she’d seen his message and saved herself the trouble of coming over here.
‘So we don’t have time for dinner,’ he said, eyeing her shopping bags. ‘Sorry.’
‘That’s fine,’ she said, desperately trying to affect nonchalance.
‘You don’t mind?’ He gazed at her anxiously.
‘No, of course not. You go – we’ll still have tomorrow. That’s if you’re free.’ It was ridiculous how deflated she felt. She would have to rein that in. He wasn’t her boyfriend – he didn’t owe her anything. It was probably a good thing this had happened – it was a timely reminder of what their relationship really was. He had been very generous with his time and she had let herself get carried away, expecting him to be available to her whenever she liked. But he had his own life. ‘Just let me stash this food in the fridge and I’ll go.’
‘Oh. No.’ He frowned. ‘I want you to come with me.’
‘You do?’ She couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across her face.
‘Yeah – I mean, if you’d like to. If you’d rather not… I know it’s not really your scene but?—’
‘No, I’d love to.’ She was excited anew at the prospect of going out with Luca – and it was ages since she’d been to a gig. It would be fun.
‘They’re really good, the band,’ he said. ‘I’d say you’ll enjoy it. And we can use it as one of your lessons too – kill two birds with one stone.’
‘How?’
‘Doing it in public.’ He grinned. ‘It’s in your blog, remember? Your alter ego is quite the exhibitionist. That time you gave Mr Bossy a blowjob in a crowded restaurant was seriously hot! Or the time you had sex at the football match. I had to run to the bathroom with that one.’
