Thankfully he has now produced earphones from the pocket of his skintight black jeans and stuffed them in. I’m fine with the insistent tss-tss leaking out, if it means no more conversation.
We just need to get this first meeting over and done with, I decide now. Lauren was right: it’s just a necessary thing to do if we’re going to be together. And I want very much for us to be together. For the first time in living memory, work doesn’t feel like the sole driving force of my life. I find myself looking forward to seeing Laurento the point where even those difficult days fly by if we’re meeting that evening. Even those aspects of work that used to get to me, like belligerent owners behaving unreasonably because we haven’t been able to see them at a moment’s notice, without an appointment; all that seems to slide off me now.
Before I met Lauren I definitely worried and stressed more. I’d feel bad that we couldn’t see absolutely everyone who called in. Fraser is equally committed but somehow, he’s more able to keep work in its place. The difference is, he’s always had a pretty intense personal life, with dramatic break-ups, reconciliations and God knows what demanding his attention. Whereas for many years pretty much all of my attention – family aside – has been funnelled into the practice.
Nowadays, those evenings when I’m at home alone, which could often seem dreary before, are okay too – not only because there’s our next date to look forward to. Life just seemslighter. The feeling of being with Lauren stays with me even when we’re not together.
This is going to befine, I reassure myself as I turn off the motorway. At least Esther agreed to come, and I’m sure Lauren will make her feel welcome and put everyone at ease. And of course Kim and Lorenzo will be there too – ‘to defuse things’, as Lauren put it – so it should all be very jolly and fun.
‘Are you nervous?’ I asked her when we spoke last night.
‘A bit,’ she admitted. ‘Are you?’
‘Fucking terrified,’ I joked, and she laughed.
‘What’s the worst thing that can happen?’ she asked.
‘Um … that it’s all a bit stilted?’
‘Well, that doesn’t really matter, does it?’
‘’Course it doesn’t,’ I said firmly.
‘D’you think Esther and Charlie will get on?’
‘Honestly, I have no idea,’ I said truthfully. ‘It’d be great if they did. But it’s not really about them, is it?’
‘No, it’s not,’ she agreed. ‘It’s about me and you.’
‘Exactly …’
‘And, James?’ she added. ‘They’re our kids, remember. They’re lovely people. It’s going to befine.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LAUREN
‘It’s going to be fine,’ I told James last night, and now I actually believe it will be. Kim and Lorenzo have arrived early to help get things ready, and the mood is jovial as we set the table, whip up salad dressings and check the various dishes in the oven. Even Charlie seems reasonably happy today. Since Corsica, I figured he’d actually been missing Remy more than he’d let on. They’d been exceptionally close, and now Remy’s life is all about going on city breaks with Freya and playing gigs all over the country. These days, their lives couldn’t be more different.
I’m relieved to see Charlie and Lorenzo bantering happily, although they’ve always got along exceptionally well. Lorenzo reckons Charlie’s brain is ‘the size of a bus’ and calls him Patrick Moore, who’s the only astronomer most non-experts have heard of. However, I’m not sure how Charlie feels about meeting Esther. My guess is that he’d rather this wasn’t happening at all.
‘I hope they’ll get along,’ I murmur to Kim as she polishes wine glasses with a tea towel.
‘’Course they will,’ she insists, adding, ‘You look gorgeous, by the way.’
I glance down at my simple emerald green dress and suede trainers. ‘You think?’
‘Totally.’
‘Not too dressy?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Or too casual? Or toogreen?’
‘Stop it,’ she says, laughing now. Charlie appears at the back door, having ventured out on this crisp October day to gather late-blooming flowers for the table. I hadn’t even asked him. He just thought it’d be nice – or maybe it was a distraction activity to take his mind off the anxious waiting? Better to be out in the gardendoingsomething than hovering about, right? My heart swells with love for him as he arranges them messily in a stripy jug. I manage not to interfere as he places it on the table because actually, the tumbly mixture looks beautiful and – oh, here they are!
As James’s car doors open I realise they’ve brought an extra person.Thisis a surprise. A warning text might’ve been nice, just to be polite. But it’s fine. Of course it is. The more the merrier I decide, as I quickly rearrange my expression to that of the unflappable hostess and greet my guests.
