‘About three months.’
And she got his attention, just like that.I bet she’s beautiful.
‘Is your mum going over for the wedding?’ I will the pain to dull.
He snorts and glances at me. ‘What doyouthink?’
‘Silly question. Dave?’
‘Dave’s coming,’ he confirms with a curt nod. ‘And Katherine, his wife.’
‘When are you getting married?’
‘March.’
‘March? That’s so soon!’ I exclaim, feeling a little breathless now.
He looks at me sharply. ‘Why do you think it’s too soon?’
‘You will have only just got there.’ I’m reeling. I didn’t think it was so . . . I don’t know, definite. ‘What if you don’t like England? Don’t you want to give yourself time to settle in?’
His footsteps seem to slow a little. ‘I thought it would be fine.’
Thought? Strange wording. ‘I didn’t feel like I was rushing it when we decided,’ he clarifies.
‘And you feel like you’re rushing it now?’
‘That’s not what I said.’But it’s what you meant. His pace quickens once more. ‘Anyway, it’s all sorted now. Dave and Katherine have got their tickets booked.’
‘Dave and Katherine can change their flights,’ I say seriously.
‘It’ll be fine,’ he insists, nodding towards the koala lofts we’re approaching. ‘I’ll go and get started. Can you fetch the pad from the office?’
And that’s the end of the discussion.
That night, Josh and I decide to go out for a bite to eat in Hahndorf. He’d come home and demanded to know what there was for dinner because Michael and my mum had gone out, and I’d grunted at him: ‘I don’t know, I’m not your mother.’ Needless to say, I felt shit enough to want to make up for it.
It’s a cooler evening than usual for this time of the year so we decide to sit inside at the Hahndorf Inn. Josh taps his tanned fingers on the table impatiently as I peruse the lengthy menu at leisure. Finally he slaps some money down in front of me.
‘I’m going to the loo. Get me the chicken schnitzel, would you?’
We’re sitting in the bar area because it has more atmosphere than the restaurant, but it has no waitress service, so once decided, I head up to place our order. Josh didn’t specify a drink, so I opt for two lemon squashes because I refuse to deal with the drinking and driving issue tonight.
I’ve handed over the money to the landlord and I’m in the process of slipping the change back into my purse when something makes me look to my left, to the other side of the wraparound bar. Ben is sitting there, staring into his drink. I’m rooted to the spot and in that moment he looks up and his expression must mirror mine before his face breaks into a wavering smile. I walk around the bar to where he’s sitting.
‘Hello,’ I say, hoping my voice doesn’t shake.
‘Hello.’
‘What are you doing here?’
He lifts up his drink by way of explanation.
‘Is Dave here?’ I look around, but can’t see him.
‘No. Just me.’
‘In a bar? On your own!’ I exclaim. ‘Ben, I didn’t think you were the solo drinking type. Youaredrinking, aren’t you?’ I peer into his glass. It looks like whisky again.
