Banjo was busy.
Billy poked Niamph in the ribs and pointed at two women. “They’re leaving.”
“I saw,” she whispered back, smiling as the women passed them. “Isn’t that Allegra Mann?”
“Who?”
“The footballer—she’s always in the local rag for something or other. She’s getting married.”
“Oh, right,” Billy said, moving between the tables to nab the now vacant one. “I’ve no idea. Imogen is the football fan.”
“Well, you can score points and say you saw Allegra in town.” Niamph glanced back at the woman. “She’s hot, don’t you think?”
Billy looked over Niamph’s shoulder, out through the window at the beautiful younger woman about to climb into a car. “I prefer her girlfriend.” She turned back to Niamph. “And anyway, just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I fancy every woman I meet… I don’t fancy you.” She grinned at Niamph, waiting for what she knew would be a great comeback.
Niamph laughed at her. “Thank goodness for that, I’d have to break your heart.” She smiled up as a waiter appeared and took away the used dishes. “Plus, Simon would have a thing or two to say about it.”
“Simon is a cat. They’re very fond of lesbians.”
“So?” Niamph said, once she was settled in her chair and the menus had been perused. “Spill the tea, as the kids say.”
“The kids say a lot of strange things,” Billy said, reading the menu. “Much like you.” She looked up and grinned again. “I’m having the chicken.” Billy decided, placing the menu back into the holder at the side of the table.
“Same,” Niamph said, following suit. “So, cabin, snow, Rosa?”
“Well, if I didn’t know better…” She looked up as she considered. “Actually, I shouldn’t say that, but for want of a better descriptor, if I didn’t know better, I’d say my mother planned our being in the same cabin. She could have easily let me sleep on the sofa or a camp bed instead of putting Rosa and me into the cabin by ourselves.”
“Oooh, I love a meddling mother.” Niamph rubbed her hands together and sniggered. “Go on.”
“My mother isn’t known for her meddling, which is why it’s so strange. But anyway—” The waiter arrived and took their orders. When he’d gone, Billy continued, “We had this cabin to ourselves, and it was awkward, and then there was this trip to the spa, and then we got snowed in and—”
“Wait, back up, I need all the details. What started the ‘let’s shag’ conversation?”
“I told her I still loved her.”
Niamph’s eyes widened. “Billy Fisk, you play hard and dirty.”
Chapter forty-three
Rosa pulled up outside the block of flats where Billy lived. Rain drove hard against the windscreen as the wipers went back and forth to clear it.
The afternoon had dragged on, with Rosa checking her watch every ten minutes in anticipation; a reaction that had set her mind off into a world of overthinking until she was finally able to admit she was excited.
Now she was here, the nerves were creeping in. She sat motionless, seatbelt still on, and counted to ten as she watched the raindrops splash against the glass. Was it ridiculous to imagine a life with Billy again? She certainly couldn’t deny that having a healthy sex life again was very much appreciated.
“Right.” She unbuckled the seatbelt. “Just enjoy it for whatever it is and worry about what it becomes, when it becomes it,” she said to herself as she pulled the handle and opened the car door.
Making a dash for it, she didn’t press the lock button until she was under the doorway’s overhang. Her car beeped, theindicator lights flashing once as though waving her off. She stuffed the keys into her pocket, yanked open the door to the flats, and went inside.
Flat four was on the second floor. She’d never been inside before now. Billy would always pick Imogen up and drop her home, but in the beginning, Rosa had insisted on picking her up, bibbing the car horn when she was outside. She’d watch through the staircase window as Imogen ran down the stairs and out into the street, waving her little hand the moment she saw Rosa behind the wheel.
There was another door at the top of the stairs. She opened it and stepped inside to find four more doors, one in each corner: Flats 4–7. Billy’s was on her right. She took another ten seconds, adjusted her dress, fluffed her hair, and then knocked.
The door opened almost immediately, Billy’s smiling face greeting her, trademark dark curls hanging loose as usual. She wore a tight-fitting burgundy T-shirt and black trousers. She looked hot, Rosa thought.
“Hey,” Billy said, opening the door wider.
Rosa took a breath, said a quick, “Hi,” and launched herself at Billy. Lips met in a bruising kiss, her arms threading easily around Billy’s neck as they moved back a step and Billy pushed the door closed.
