‘Why do men say they’re going to call if they’ve got no intention of doing so?’ I’d asked Erin on more than one occasion.
‘It’s so bloody annoying,’ Erin frequently said. ‘If I had my way, it would be a crime. The crime of lying and leading women on. It’s not as though they have to say they’ll call, is it? I mean, it’s not written in stone that all men must say those words to every woman they meet.’
And almost as bad as that was the fact that Sam hadn’t said when he would call. Just that he’d call me later. What did that mean? Later today? Sometime tomorrow? Later in the week?
I was going around in circles, so when the waitress brought the wine, I drank it down within seconds, and asked for a second glass.
I glanced around the restaurant, trying to think of something other than Sam, but all that did was made me realise I seemed to be the only person in there who would be eating alone.
There were tables occupied by couples, tables occupied by friends, tables occupied by families, but only one person occupied my table – me – on my own.
Thankfully, no one else, other than my waitress who smiled at me when she brought the wine, appeared to be that interested in me. The story of my life.
Even so, I turned my chair slightly so that I was directly facing the window and not the empty seat opposite me, and sipped my second glass of wine as I tuned out the cacophony of voices around me, and stared at the throng of people outside, and then across the expanse of the English Channel, and the boats, and ships, traversing the busiest shipping lane in the world.
‘Would you mind some company?’ a voice behind me asked a few minutes later.
I quickly swivelled in my chair and turned to face a smiling waiter.
‘I’m sorry. What?’
‘I asked if you would mind some company,’ he repeated, his smile, like the waitress’s, firmly fixed in place. ‘As you can see, we’re rather busy today. But please say if you’d prefer to eat alone. It’s just that this is the only table with a seat free, and as it happens, there’s another single person here today.’
He said it as though single people were a rarity. Perhaps they were in this restaurant. Or even in this town.
‘You’re asking me if someone can join me?’ I queried.
He nodded, still smiling.
‘Male or female?’
The smile faltered a fraction. ‘Male. Is that a problem?’
‘Erm. No.’ I looked around but I couldn’t see anyone nearby so I assumed that the person had probably been sent to wait at the bar, as I had. I was about to say it was okay, despite not really feeling okay about it at all but deciding it would be churlish to say no, and then my phone rang before I could continue. The screen display said, ‘unknown number’, so I raised a finger in the air to ask the waiter to give me a minute. ‘Hello,’ I said.
‘Hello, Lucy.’
‘Sam?’ I couldn’t believe it was him and yet I recognised his voice from earlier.
‘I said I’d give you a call. I decided now was as good a time as any.’ He gave a small cough. ‘May I join you for lunch? I’m hoping you’ll say yes, but it’s fine if you say no. Well, not fine, exactly, but I’ll understand if you’d rather be on your own.’
‘Sam?’ I repeated. ‘But you left. With Jenna. You had somewhere to be.’
‘I did. Now I don’t. May I join you?’
‘Yes!’ I shrieked, waving at the waiter and nodding like a buffoon. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Excellent. Then I’ll see you in five minutes.’
‘Five minutes? But … aren’t you waiting at the bar?’
‘No.’ He laughed. ‘I’m at a friend’s house. I’m about to get on my bike.’
‘Your bike? You … you’re cycling here?’
‘Cycling?’ He laughed louder. ‘Nope. Motorbike.’
I laughed too, but I felt rather foolish. Of course it would be a motorbike and not a bicycle. What was I thinking?
