Foxglove Street was quiet and tucked up for the night. Light spilled from a few windows here and there, but it was long past midnight and most people were probably already in bed. Thin drizzle fell from the inky sky and sparkled as it passed beneath the streetlamps. A man huddled in an anorak hurried past on the pavement with a little terrier dog walking at his side on a lead, but otherwise the street was empty.
It looked so comforting and lovely in the stillness of the night, with its bare trees and dark windows and the sense that everyone who lived here was safely at home and already fast asleep.
The whimsical thought made Gaby wonder if the nightcap had gone to her head. She closed the curtains and climbed into bed and let out a happy sigh.
Her mind filled with images of dancing in Peter’s arms tonight and kissing him goodbye. Her skin tingled at the memory of his touch.
A ping from her phone had her checking her messages. She found a reply from Peter to her earlier text when she’d told him she’d be free from lunchtime tomorrow if he still wanted to get together.
I’ll pick you up at noon. Can’t wait to see you again.
She couldn’t wait to see him either. The excitement made her feel like a seventeen-year-old girl again, stupidly lovestruck.
As she drifted off to sleep, the weekend ahead glittered like treasure waiting to be discovered.
19
Bright late autumnsunshine warmed the air as Gaby stepped out of her aunt’s house on Saturday to meet Peter.
“I saw you coming along the pavement and thought I’d save you knocking on the door,” she said as she reached him. And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she brushed a kiss across his cheek. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Peter said with a smile. “You look great. As always.”
She’d paired her teal coat with a copper-toned silk scarf and had opted for jeans and a soft woollen jumper in case the sunshine didn’t last. “Thanks. You’ll be pleased to hear I’ve opted for sensible shoes today, after I almost killed myself wearing those boots last night.”
“Those boots looked great. But your shoe choice today is better because I’ve got some walking around in mind for us, if your feet aren’t too sore.”
“I’ll survive. So, where to first?”
She tucked her arm into his and saw his smile widen.
“We’ll start with that walk along the riverside I suggested. We’ve got great weather for it and it was always one of our favourite places to hang around back then. There’s a café there now where we can stop for lunch.”
“Sounds good. I’m looking forward to a day spent out and about. It will be fun revisiting some of our old haunts.”
They set off along Foxglove Street. Since arriving to stay with her aunt, Gaby had only walked in the direction of the high street to run errands. Walking in the opposite direction this time, she enjoyed seeing the other end of the residential street.
“I’d forgotten just how long this road is,” she said as they turned into a curve. “And it’s so pretty. Everyone takes such great care of their houses and gardens.”
“I never really noticed stuff like that when I was growing up here,” Peter said. “But the older I get, the more I realise what a great town this is to live in. People look after the place and have pride in it, especially on this street.”
“They really do. The gardens look amazing, even in the late autumn when nothing much is growing anymore. Every patch is neat and tidy and obviously well loved. The whole place has so much character.”
“You should see Foxglove Street in December. They have a Christmas lights celebration that runs the entire length of the street and everyone hangs lights in their garden and all kinds of festive illuminations and decorations. The residents put on a fun community afternoon to turn on the lights and everyone comes out into the street to spend time together and drink hot chocolate and eat mince pies and sing Christmas carols. It’s a lot of fun.”
“It sounds wonderful. What a lovely thing to do. You know, I think my aunt might have mentioned something about a Christmas lights event in the past, but that’s usually such a hectic time in the hospitality business, it probably slipped my mind.”
Peter pointed across the street to a house they were passing. “My friend from my Saturday morning squash games lives there with his family. His kids love the Christmas lights thing that theresidents organise each year. He has terrific neighbours on this street. If I ever decide to sell my flat and buy a house, this is the street where I’d hope to find one. Although…”
When he trailed off, Gaby looked over. “Although?”
He shrugged and smiled. “When you’re a sad single bloke, you don’t really need a whole house to yourself. Better to leave those properties to the lucky couples who need them to raise a family.”
“That’s no way to think. If you see a house here you like, you should buy it, Peter. And you aren’t a sad bloke, as you put it. You’ll get married and have a family of your own one day.”
He gave her an indecipherable look and Gaby saw a flash of something in his eyes before he glanced away. She wished they hadn’t veered into this intimate territory already in their conversation, because she couldn’t forget what he’d confessed last night about how she was the only woman he’d ever loved. If that was true, and he’d insisted it was, it probably wasn’t helpful for her to throw encouraging advice around about his future prospects for having a family.
Talk about patronising, not to mention tone deaf.
