‘Grace! Angeliki! You came… together.’
Will knew she’d been spending time at the surgery, visiting Karen and sending him updates, but she’d probably failed to mention quite how well she’d been getting on with his ex-girlfriend. Angeliki was firmly in friend territory now too.
‘We did.’
Angeliki gave Will a quick hug and skipped past him onto the veranda, the roof of which was festooned with silver balloons, fairy lights and a couple of toy spacecraft.
Will gave Grace another of his airport-style top-to-toe scans, which always made her feel like she was standing there in her underwear.
‘Nice dress.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Love the touches of silver.’
Will himself was wearing a white shirt with bands of silver randomly highlighting areas of his chest, teamed with smart grey shorts and deck shoes. She was pleased to see he was wearing socks with them. It was one of her bugbears, men wearing deck shoes without socks, particularly if they wore them with those half-mast trousers that exposed bony ankles; it just looked like the trousers were missing a chunk of material.
‘And that’s a fun shirt.’
‘Fun? Not sure that’s what I was aiming for.’
Will leant in close.
‘Thank you again for the other night. I know I was pretty out of it…’
‘Don’t mention it.’
‘Let me know if there’s ever anything I can do for you in return.’
Actually, there was, but now wasn’t the time.
More guests were coming down the path, and Will smiled and waved in their direction. He was in mine host mode again, and there was no sign of the man who’d opened himself up to her two nights ago.
‘Welcome, everyone. Drinks on the table behind you, and snacks inside. Please help yourselves.’
Grace poured herself a glass of wine and wandered inside the house, keen to see what Will had done with it, since he’d told her it was all his own work.
What had probably been several small rooms was now one big open-plan space, with a traditional cone-shaped open fireplace in one corner, into which someone, presumably Will, had put a red metal wood-burning stove.
Pale blue fabric sofas in an L shape and a faded yellow armchair faced the fire, with a large jute rug between them on the terracotta-tiled floor. A floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelf, in what looked like oak, covered half of one wall, and there were paintings in oils and watercolours of sea scenes dotted around the white plaster walls.
It was all quite tasteful, without being ostentatious, and, to her surprise, Grace was impressed. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting– maybe something aggressively bachelor, with swathes of black leather and hints of gold.
The wooden kitchen units, painted in the same pale blue as the sofas, looked handmade. A dining table in a more vibrant shade of blue had been pushed back against the wall and was covered in bowls of crisps and nuts and plates of canapés, plus little dishes of food that had obviously been brought by guests. Grace helped herself to some crisps– avoiding salt and vinegar, which always gave her indigestion– and a couple of falafel-type balls with a yoghurt dip, which she’d learnt were called keftedes in Greek.
She was surprised to find Will standing behind her just as she popped one in her mouth. Surely he had hosting duties?
‘So, what do you think?’
Grace swallowed and took a gulp of wine.
‘Of the keftedes?’
‘No, the house.’
He seemed a little nervous, as if it really mattered to him what she thought.
‘It’s charming.’
