‘Now who’s being ridiculous?’ I leaned into his shoulder.
‘But was there nobody serious before? Have you ever been in love?’ Would he ever tell me anyway? He had a talent for using humour to avoid the question.
‘No. There was nobody serious. Not before you. Like I said, I kissed a few frogs along the way. Once, I thought it might have gone somewhere with someone, it was the only time somebody called it a day with me. I thought I was hurt at the time, but it was my pride that was injured more than my actual heart. I saw her around a few times afterwards and knew well she wouldn’t have been for me, anyway. Plus, my parents didn’t take to her.’
‘I can’t imagine your parents not liking anyone.’
‘Well, that just goes to show the nature of the beast, possibly a narrow escape.’
‘And are the frogs all local?’ I couldn’t help but wonder had we crossed any in passing, or would we be likely to?
‘Some of them. Some of them are married now with kids, some of them are still stalking poor unsuspecting bastards like me.’
‘I can’t imagine living like that, with the skeletons of your past walking round in broad daylight, having to acknowledge them, running into them on a daily basis. Is it not a bit awkward?’ That was another massive benefit to living in a city, if you didn’t want to bump into someone, the chances are you wouldn’t.
‘I don’t give them a second thought, to be honest.’ His tone oozed sincerity, reassuring me of his complete and utter lack of genuine interest in anyone before. The frog analogy put everything in perspective.
‘You can ask me anything, Lucy. I’ll never lie to you. No matter how ugly the truth is. I’d rather spend the rest of my life alone than with the wrong woman.’
‘I admire you so much. You’re so strong it’s unreal. I don’t know where you got that old head on your shoulders from, but I’m glad you have it. Look at me, the pure opposite. I married the first wrong one that came along, because I honestly didn’t believe there would ever be a right one. It’s absurd when you think about it. We’re a right pair, aren’t we?’
‘We are, but I wouldn’t change any of it, because all the tiny insignificant details of our lives are exactly what led us to being here. I wouldn’t swap for the world. It made us who we are today and brought us together.’
He was right, and I knew it, but I couldn’t help feeling the earlier years could have been put to a lot better use and I said so.
‘The only thing that could be put to better use right now is this morning.’ He pulled me to my feet, lifted me down from the rock and led me by the hand back to his four-poster bed.
Sunday mornings didn’t get any better.
Chapter Seventeen
FRIDAY 14TH SEPTEMBER
The following Friday, I was at the tapas restaurant in Winchester with the girls.
‘Well, fill us in, Lucy. I’m dying to hear all,’ said Ruth, eager to hear the gossip from last weekend. Though I rented a room from her, because of both our busy work schedules, we were like ships passing in the night.
‘I’m not dying to hear all,’ Clara said, between mouthfuls of spicy potatoes. ‘In fact, I’ve heard so much about John fucking Kelly, I’m practically in love with him myself. I could pretty much draw a nude portrait of him, I’ve had so much visual.’
‘Sorry, not sorry,’ I said with a shrug.
‘Well? Does the rug match the carpet?’ Ruth asked boldly, leaning closer for the gossip.
‘Absolutely. And what a wonderful carpet it is.’
‘She came home walking like John Wayne!’ Clara grassed me up without a second thought. ‘You should have seen her trying to sit down on her saddle seat. It was priceless. She had to work standing up for the first half of the week. I suppose that’s what you get for having sex eleven times in two days.’
‘Girls, in fairness, I was making up for lost time. It had been years,’ I defended myself, grinning as I remembered.
Another one of our friends, Katie, joined us for dinner. She didn’t get out as much as the rest of us as she had two toddlers.
‘It’s all fun and games until you have to push a tiny human out of your vagina. Make the most of it, I’m telling you, those lazy Sunday shags in bed, the kitchen sex, the shower sex, the lot. It’s not nearly as fun when you have two little people biting at your ankles and you can’t even sneeze without peeing in your knickers,’ she advised us.
She gave off holy hell about those kids, but she absolutely adored them. She often regaled us with mundane stories of motherhood that had us doubled up with laughter, assuring us she would have the last laugh. She claimed by the time we had children, hers would be old enough to wipe their own arses and reach the cereal in the morning.
‘Such a week I’ve had. My period was late,’ she said solemnly. ‘I nearly fucking died. The fear was real. I couldn’t even look at David. His life wouldn’t be worth living if he’d got me pregnant again. I can barely cope with what I’ve got, let alone adding another one to the mix.’
Ruth slapped the table in hysterics. ‘You were angry at David? My biology isn’t great, but I was sure it took two.’
