Page 6 of Matilda’s Summer of New Beginnings

Rosie had given us all gift subscriptions to her magazine at Christmas. ‘No! Because that is due in December.’ She punched him lightly on the arm. ‘I didn’t get you the quarterly one — and if I had, it would have renewed this month so you’d already have it.’

It was March, so she was right. Anyway, I knew she’d bought him a soap-on-a-rope in the shape of a microphone as a jokey present because she’d shown me it and said it was “pleasingly retro”. She’d also bought him a couple of designer t-shirts and some designer aftershave she’d got cheaply from one of the reps at work, but she’d made me promise that I would tell him she’d paid full price for them if he asked. I had agreed, but Jay didn’t strike me as the sort of guy who’d ask how much a present cost.

‘Okay.’ He grinned and patted her head, which made her squawk like a budgie and bat his hand away. ‘Right. I’ll see you both at the Spatchcock around seven thirty. There’s a buffet in the snug, and Cerys made a cake.’ He looked at me. ‘Even if it wasn’t a big birthday, as in one with a zero at the end, I’d be having a party — with no choice in the matter!’

‘I think it’s because Padcock just likes to do nice things for people and you’ve been really helpful to Sam over the last few months, so it’s a “thank you” from Sam and Cerys,’ said Rosie.

‘Yeah, they seem to have a lot of ante-natal appointments,’ said Jay. ‘I’ve worked a few extra shifts to cover but I don’t mind. Still, twelve weeks, he says, and it should be all over.’

‘I think it’s lovely.’ Rosie smiled. ‘I bet Cerys is worrying about who’ll cover the café when she goes off on maternity though.’

‘You’ll have to do it,’ he teased. ‘Leave your magazine and come down here.’

‘I couldn’t work with Polly,’ said Rosie. ‘She’s far too glamorous for a start.’ Polly was Cerys’ latest assistant. Rosie had said she was extremely quiet and aloof, and didn’t have a lot of small-talk. I personally don’t think that’s a bad thing, but Rosie is one of life’s chatterers and fills each and every space in conversations where possible. ‘Is she coming tonight? I’ll need to put extra make-up on if she is, just to compete.’

‘No, it’s her cousin’s baby shower,’ said Jay. ‘It’s a shame she can’t make it.’

‘Well at least I don’t have to try to make conversation with her then,’ grumbled Rosie.

‘Behave!’ said Jay.

‘Maybe she’s shy?’ I chipped in, as Rosie opened her mouth to bite back.

‘Maybe that’s exactly it,’ said Jay with a nod, but Rosie still seemed unconvinced and shook her head.

‘Nope. She’s scary. Oh I do hope Cerys gets someone decent,’ she said. ‘It’s like a revolving door in there — Cerys is the only point of stability and once she has the baby . . . But it’s not for me to worry about, thankfully.’

She tugged the towel around herself again. ‘Right — goodbye for now, Jay. Unless you want to hang around a bit with us?’ she offered as an afterthought.

‘No thanks. You need to get dressed, and I need to go home and have my own shower. I’ll see you there. Thanks again for coming. And thanks, Matilda. I’m glad you came too.’ He smiled, then dipped his head and we all shuffled around the tiny hallway again so he could get past. I got another waft of his aftershave and my knees almost buckled. I restrained a groan of pleasure.

‘See you later,’ I managed. I was pleased I’d come — I’d deliberately pushed all my resentment of Damien to one side of my mind, but deep down, I was still seething. I was upset at his thoughtlessness. I wouldn’t have pulled a stunt like that on him, had our roles been reversed.

I resolved that I wouldn’t let it spoil my weekend though.

Chapter Three

The party was shaping up to be fun. Jay looked like he was enjoying himself at any rate. He was all happy and smiling and having kisses with many, many middle-aged ladies who twittered and coo-ed around him and thrust more cake at him.

By 8.30, the table in the snug — a cosy back room in the Spatchcock — was positively groaning with cake, and my tummy was growling in anticipation as I edged closer and closer to the delectable fare, clutching a glass of white wine whilst I ogled the goodies.

‘Looks nice, doesn’t it?’ Jay’s voice surprised me, and I spun around, guilt more than likely all over my face from working out how many trips to the buffet table I’d need to ensure I tried everything. I’d barely had a chance to see him or speak to him, so this was nice. Very nice.

‘Looks delicious,’ I said. ‘Someone’s getting very spoiled on their birthday.’ I paused. ‘You have lipstick on your right cheek by the way. Is it perhaps from — Charlotte?’ It almost choked me to ask him, and to be fair I hadn’t seen her in the pub, but who knew. She was awfully glamorous, and reed-slim. She worked at a high-end brand make-up counter, and you could tell. She had been flawlessly immaculate the last time I’d met her when they’d been in London together.

He smiled and shook his head. ‘Nope. We broke up.’ He shrugged. ‘She was convinced I was hung up on someone else, and I was convinced a life in Padcock wouldn’t really be her thing.’

‘Hmm. She was very well put together,’ I acknowledged. I felt safe saying it because she was out of the picture so now I could afford to be a little generous. ‘I’m not sure I could see her working anywhere else than where she was. And you. I couldn’t see you moving up to London, really.’

Jay shook his head. ‘I like it here.’ I noticed he didn’t comment on whether he really was hung up on someone else, so I didn’t push it. ‘Talking of put together though, I like this.’ He lifted one of my carefully styled curls, which today sported mermaid-inspired blue and green highlights. I felt they matched my emerald sparkly mini-dress.

‘Thanks. I needed to do something different,’ I said. Thankfully, my voice wasn’t a squeak, which was a bonus.

‘You suit it. Ummm — Tilds, can you guide me . . . ?’ He dropped my curl and pointed at his cheek and started rubbing at where he guessed the mark to be. ‘Am I getting it?’

‘Not quite.’ Instinctively I put my wine down and rubbed my thumb over his cheek, trying to get rid of the coral-pink mark. I could feel the sharpness of his cheekbones — for a moment we locked eyes and the world seemed to stop.

Quickly, I moved my hand away, picked up my glass, and clutched it even tighter. ‘Got it. It’s gone.’