I shake my head but can’t help the smile that lingers as I watch her. Even with everything that’s going on, she still has a way of making the world feel brighter. My throat tightens. What will it be like if I move to the other end of the country without her being around the corner?
‘Ooh! Bookshelves!’ She practically skips across the room, despite the heat pushing down on me.
I trail after her, something uncomfortable in the pit of my stomach. ‘You don’t have any books.’
‘Yet!’ she adds with a wink.
By the time we leave, we’ve ordered enough furniture to kit out her lounge, as well as a kitchen table and chairs.
We step back out into the sunshine, Kate still holding on to a toasty maker, while I carry three bags of crockery.
‘So, what now?’ she asks as we load our buys in the boot, slamming it shut.
I pull at my ear. ‘Well, I was thinking that your new sofa will clash with the walls in your sitting room, so… paint? It’ll only take me a few hours, and it’ll be dry by the time they deliver the rest tomorrow.’ She covers her eyes against the sun.
‘I still can’t believe they deliver it to your door. Mad.’
‘Times are changing. Before you know it, you’ll be able to get your shopping delivered too, I reckon.’
She laughs then frowns, ‘Bloody hope not, I’ll be out of a job.’
‘Ah, nothing will beat a good market stall. So… paint?’
‘It’s your day off.’
‘I know, that’s why you’re going to help.’
* * *
I can’t get the grin off my face as Kate slaps on pink paint perfectly in time to the beat of ‘Raspberry Beret’, her voice belting out into the room. I’m taking a break and holding a brew. Her hair is scraped up in a high ponytail, and her shoulders are swinging as she sings even louder once the chorus hits. She flashes me a look over her shoulder. ‘Part-timer.’ Her face is flushed, pink paint in her hair, on her cheek. For a second, I almost forget to breathe and start coughing on my intake of tea. Being here is so easy, shopping, decorating… I can feel the weight of the last few months slipping away.
‘What?’ she asks, standing, hands on her hips, assessing me.
‘Nowt.’
‘What are you looking at me like that for? Have I got something on my face?’ She wipes it, a fresh arch of Angel-Delight pink curving over her cheek.
‘Well, now you have.’
She touches her cheek with her fingertips and laughs. ‘Aw, well, no point cleaning up now is there.’ She comes over and takes the cup from my hand, wincing as she takes a sip.
‘Christ, Mike, your teeth’ll rot.’
‘Not you too, I get enough of that at home.’
Her shoulders lift then settle. ‘About that.’ Her fingers reach up and pull her ponytail tight. ‘What do you think about moving in?’
An advert for double glazing comes on the radio as I try to process what she’s asking.
‘Here.’ She looks away then back. ‘With me.’
‘I…’
My heart is galloping like it’s in the Grand National. I scratch the side of my jaw.
She shakes her head with a small laugh.
She’s joking. I don’t know if I’m relieved or?—
