‘You need to get on to site management again about getting your signposts better positioned. I had another pillock wasting my time again this morning asking me for directions to your place.’
The clatter of cutlery on plates and the hum of conversation seemed to fade away. I swallowed because my mouth suddenly felt impossibly dry.
‘Someone was asking how to find me?’
‘Someone isalwaysasking how to find you. The bloody signpost is misleading. Everyone ends up here.’
‘Was this ...’ My voice had a parrot-like squawk; I cleared my throat and tried again. ‘Was it this morning?’
‘I said so, didn’t I?’ Fred replied.
Actually he hadn’t, but I didn’t bother pointing that out as he tugged the ten-pound note from my fingers when I made no move to release it.
The customer behind me shuffled forward, clearly impatient to be served. It forced me to fast-forward to the question Ireallywanted to ask.
‘This person. Was he tall?’
‘Everyone’s tall compared to me.’
This was true. Fred was a small man, except for his attitude. That was huge. I rephrased my question.
‘Did this man have dark hair and deep brown eyes?’
Fred paused in counting out my change, and I know if it had been anyone else asking that question, there would have been some snarky retort along the lines that he had better things to do all day than stare into customers’ eyes. But this was me, and although he’d never said a word – and would probably deny it on a stack of bibles – I knew he had a soft spot for me.
‘No. He had bright red hair, a broken front tooth, and tattoos up both arms from his fingers to his neck.’
‘Not really distinctive then?’ I said, pleased with myself for managing to crack a halfway-decent joke.
Fred shot me a grin that was faster than a camera flash. If you weren’t looking hard, you could easily have missed it.
‘No. Not at all.’
‘You have to stop this,’ I told myself firmly as I strode along the rain-speckled pavements to the workshop. Ever since Claire had accidentally on purpose ruined the surprise element of Josh’s impending visit, I’d been catching glimpses of him everywhere. Except it was never him. I’d followed a total stranger who walkedlike Josh did down the aisles of a grocery superstore, waved at another with the exact same shade of hair who was climbing out of a taxi, and overenthusiastically greeted a broad-shouldered DHL delivery driver seen through the fuzzy pixels of my video doorbell.
To be fair to Claire – something which didn’t always come naturally to me – she’d never saidwhenJosh planned on visiting. I’d just assumed it would be soon. It could be ten minutes or ten months from now. I might be pregnant, or even have a baby in my arms by then. I paused for a moment, despite the soft drizzle, because that thought still had the power to stop me in my tracks. It might not have happened for me this first time around, and maybe it wouldn’t the next either, but whatever my feelings were about the lie Adam had told Josh, the dream of having my husband’s baby was as strong as ever, and I would do everything I could to make it come true.
I jogged the last section of the journey, splashing through puddles in the small parking area which we shared with three adjacent units. It was always busy, usually with customers from the shutter company who were our closest neighbours. Today was no exception, although I noticed with a frisson of irritation that one of their customers had parked directly outside our entrance doors, ignoring the ‘Reserved for Cupcakes and Rainbows’ signpost.
‘Some numpty has parked in our bay again,’ I called out as I walked through the doorway, pulling the damp beanie from my head and shaking out the droplets of rain that had still managed to settle on my hair.
Raegan stepped into my field of vision, her features contorting in a weird pantomime of expressions. Her eyes swivelled sharply to the left and her eyebrows did their best to follow.
‘I think that numpty must be me,’ said Josh, reaching for a set of car keys on the counter and gently dislodging Fletcher’s head from where it had been resting adoringly on his knee. ‘I’ll move it.’
‘You’re here,’ I cried stupidly, as though my thoughts about his visit had somehow magicked him into being. ‘Whyare you here? Shouldn’t you be up in your forest, making stuff?’
His smile was as familiar to me as my own.
‘Iamallowed out for good behaviour every now and then. It’s kind of like parole.’
My mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish’s. Not my most attractive look, I imagine. ‘You never said you were coming.’
In truth, apart from a single text informing him I’d made it home safely, we hadn’t communicated at all since I’d left his cabin. Josh was under no obligation to inform me about his plans, but I was still feeling wrong-footed, despite Claire’s advance warning.
‘It was a last-minute decision,’ he said, looking closer to flushing than I’d seen in a long time. ‘There’s a consignment of oak I’m thinking of buying in France, so ...’ He looked down at his feet as though the script for what he really wanted to say was written on his boots. ‘I thought I might stay in the area for a few days first, you know, catch up with family and ...’ He hesitated, and I could see him searching for a descriptor that would fit me.Good luck with that one, I thought, because I had no idea what we were to each other. Not anymore. ‘Old friends,’ he settled with.
‘Can I offer you anything? A drink, I mean, like a tea or a coffee or something?’
