‘What? Sorry, babe. Iwaslistening, honestly …’
There’s none of that tuning out as they check into the beautiful holiday apartment. Okay, so Bath’s not in the north. But still, in the two years they’ve been together, this is the first time Miles has booked a trip. (All the other times, Esther’s done it.) And the city is so pretty and clean,awash with posh shops and dinky cafés, that Miles doesn’t even seem to mind that it’s not London.
They have fantastic pub lunches and browse in bookshops, where he hangs about at the door, looking a bit bored, but at least he’s letting Esther choose things to do instead of taking control the whole time, which is how he always used to be.
Later they wallow together in a bubbling rooftop spa pool. ‘This is so lovely,’ she tells him, gazing up at the darkening sky.
‘Glad you’re having fun, darling,’ Miles says.
‘It’s the best weekend I’ve had since … well, I can’t remember.’ She feels as if she could literally burst with happiness.
‘We should do it more often then!’
‘Can we?’ Esther doesn’t know why she does this; asks him for permission. ‘I mean, I’d love to,’ she says quickly.
He goes a bit quiet and slips his arm around her shoulders. All around them, young couples are canoodling in the water. The spa is clearly a date destination, despite the ‘no displays of intimacy’ signs that are dotted about. ‘I want to make it up to you,’ Miles adds. ‘Seriously, after everything I’ve done.’ Shockingly, his eyes fill with tears. What’s with all the emotion these days? Esther used to wonder if he ever cried; if his body was even capable of making tears. Now he seems to be permanently welling up.
‘Oh, Miles, it’s okay,’ she says, kissing him on the mouth.
‘I’ve messed up in the past,’ he says, ‘but I really am trying to be a better person …’
‘I know you are,’ she says gently. ‘You’re seeing Raoul. It seems to be helping a lot.’ Like her, Miles has a therapist, only his is focused on his apparent sex addiction,what triggers it and the steps he can take to deal with what Miles describes as ‘intrusive thoughts’.
‘Miles?’ she says later over dinner. ‘I was just wondering, have you ever thought about keeping a gratitude journal?’
‘God, no.’ He laughs and shakes his head. ‘It’s not really my thing, Est.’
She shrugs. ‘I’ve found it quite helpful.’
‘What? You keep one?’ Her dad knows, and yet her boyfriend didn’t, is the thought that springs to mind.
‘Yes I do.’
‘What for?’
‘You know what they are, don’t you?’
‘’Course I do. Yeah.’
‘Well …’ She pauses and picks up the last teeny little starter; a nest of crispy filo pastry with a sliver of salmon inside. ‘I just think it’s a good thing to do.’
‘All that “live, laugh, love” stuff?’ he teases. ‘You’re a walking wall decal, darling.’
‘No need to take the piss.’
His hand covers hers on the table. ‘I’m only kidding. I think it’s great, if it works for you …’
She nods. ‘It does actually. Like, at the beginning, when I started it, I could hardly think of anything to put in it. It made me focus and think, well,somethings in my life are good …’
‘So what kind of stuff did you write back then?’
Esther smiles at the memory. ‘When I was really scraping around for things, I once wrote, “I have clean knickers.”’
‘Always a good thing!’ Miles smirks.
‘But I don’t put that now.’
‘’Cause your knickers are dirty?’ A raised brow and a naughty grin.
