‘And sometimes, what we wish for, we can’t have. Tell me about you. I’m sick of talking about me.’
Twenty-one
What are you supposed to do when you’re with someone you’re just having sex with, and yet Valentine’s Day is looming? Do you simply ignore it, and carry on regardless? Or do you buy a card, a gift, and arrange something special, and pretend you’re a couple, even though you’re not?
I decided the best thing to do was to broach the subject with Sam.
‘It’s Valentine’s Day on Friday,’ I said, and I saw Sam stiffen immediately, as though bracing himself for impact, from some sort of emotional missile.
‘Is it?’ He continued buttering the toast he’d made as if I’d said it was a plain old Tuesday or something.
‘It is. And without causing a row or anything, I was wondering if we should, sort of, celebrate it in some way. We are lovers, after all, even if we’re not actually, in love.’
Well, one of us wasn’t but I’d promised not to bring that up, so I kept silent on that score.
He looked me in the eye and he seemed to scan my face and possibly my thoughts.
‘We could do that. What did you have in mind?’
‘Oh!’ I was so surprised he’d agreed that it threw me off track. ‘I don’t know. I hadn’t given it any thought. Other than I knew it was this Friday. We could exchange cards. Funny cards, obviously, because we’re not in love, are we?’
His eyes scanned my face.
‘No, Lucy. We’re not.’
‘Right. So jokey cards. And perhaps a silly little fun gift?’
His brows knit together but then he nodded.
‘I can do that.’
‘Great!’
‘And … what about if I cooked something special. Just for fun. Or we could go out to a restaurant or something.’
‘Not a restaurant. No. That’s for people who believe they are genuinely in love. We don’t believe that, do we, Lucy?’ He was shaking his head as if he felt he needed to direct my reaction.
‘In love? Us!’ Pah! Of course not. No. I agree. Let’s just have a lovely meal here then. And a bottle of champers or something.’
He frowned suddenly. ‘You’re not expecting red roses or anything, are you?’
‘Ooh! That would be lovely. But no. Don’t worry. I’m not expecting flowers of any variety.’
‘Or chocolates?’
‘Nope.’
‘Or perfume?’
‘Na-huh. Nothing. Just two … friends, enjoying each other’s company and a nice meal and some champagne and then, hopefully, the best sex of our lives. Just to round the week off, you understand?’
He almost choked on the bite of toast he’d just put in his mouth.
‘No pressure then?’
‘None whatsoever. Are we agreed?’
‘I’ll do my best. But I’m not sure how I’ll perform under pressure. The best sex of our lives is a lot. We’ve had some pretty fantastic sex this week, haven’t we?’
