With a rueful look, he called, ‘Be right with you.’ He glanced at me, his mouth looking grim. ‘Talk about timing.’
‘Hmph,’ I muttered crossly.
‘I’ve got to go, Olivia.’ With that he turned away and then immediately turned back, an odd expression in his eyes. ‘We need to talk.’
* * *
Heavy-footed, I walked slowly back to the pavilion, oblivious to the sights and sounds around me, my thoughts were back at Ben’s party.
Cringing, I could remember the flirty banter with Daniel at the start of the evening, when he’d greeted me with the line, ‘Wow, you’re looking gorgeous tonight.’
Things were going swimmingly with lots of sparkly-eyed conversation until I was dragged away to supervise my brother’s birthday cake. A sugar-paste triumph in the shape of a bat and ball.
Drifting through the clubhouse into the ladies’ toilet, I gazed at my flushed face in the mirror. I leaned against the cool glass for a moment. Was that when things had gone awry? Had I stood a chance with Daniel that night?
Going back over that evening in my head, I remembered that awful kick-in-the-stomach sensation I’d got when I returned from sorting the cake out to find Emily wrapped around Daniel, her arms encircling his neck, kissing him deeply. At the time I’d nearly doubled over with the pain of it.
The memory still made me feel sick and embarrassed. Turning on the cold tap in the cramped toilet, I splashed water on my face, glaring at myself in the mirror. God, Daniel must have found it hilarious, that night. Me, throwing myself at him. What an idiot. Of course Emily was going to be his type, a petite, sexy blonde with curves in the right places. I stared at my reflection.
So had Emily’s lies put the barriers up? And now that he knew the truth, did it make any difference, or was I about to make the same mistake all over again? What if all Daniel wanted to say was, ‘You’re a really nice girl but...’
* * *
Events were determined to thwart us. Daniel’s team won the game, so he was in big demand. Not that defeat seemed to have bothered the opposition, both sides were celebrating equally. The clubhouse was packed, the pints were flowing and the bar filled with empties. Clusters of men were grouped around the tables, discussing in great detail every ball. How did they remember? They spoke another language and I could hear strange incomprehensible snippets: ‘Defensive drive... just caught the edge... bowled a googly... silly mid-off’ as I circulated, chatting to wives and girlfriends.
Towards the end of the evening, I went out onto the veranda to cool down and watched as the barbecue embers gave off a final, redundant glow.
It was then that a very chummy Mike arrived beside me, breathing beer fumes, obviously taking advantage of Tracey’s trip to the bar.
‘Olivia. Gotta talk to you. I hafta splain.’ With dusk falling, he couldn’t see my look of bored resignation. ‘Y’know I was goin’ out wi’ Tracey... then you came along. Shoulda told you afterthe first night but I couldn’t resist you... couldn’t stay away. Your fault.’
I might have had a bit more patience with his drunken rambling but he made the mistake of trying to blame me. Great. Nice to know I was irresistible to someone.
‘Never gave me chance to splain. You walked away. That wash you,’ he moaned.
What a day. My temper, which is normally well hidden under layers and layers of ingrained politeness, had been simmering all afternoon. I only needed the slightest excuse to light the touchpaper.
‘You bastard,’ I hissed at him, ready to let rip but Daniel materialised at my elbow. His timing stank.
‘Olivia, there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ The breath whistled out of me as Daniel firmly took my arm. ‘Excuse us,’ he said, before adding. ‘Mike, you’re a dickhead. Thank your lucky stars that she’s too nice to go and spill the beans to Tracey.’
Wheeling me away from Mike, we walked a few steps and now the moment was finally here. Sod’s law, I was desperate for the loo.
Would he hang around and wait for me or would I lose this window? ‘Sorry, I really need to go to...’ I indicated with my head and fled towards the ladies.
When I came out I almost tripped over him, leaning lazily against the wall. Was that a good sign? Was he was determined not to let me slip away? His arms were folded and a lazy amused smile was on his lips.
‘Fancy meeting you here,’ I said aiming for a flippant tone. ‘Looking for someone?’
‘Yes.’ He flashed me a smile. ‘A tall, gorgeous blonde.’
My heart did a little flutter. I missed a breath. It all went quiet.
‘Fancy a walk round the boundary?’
‘That would be nice,’ I responded, suddenly lost for words. I winced. Nice. Where’s the witty repartee when you need it?
Was this when we were going to have our ‘talk’, here in the half-light, protecting us from curious eyes?
