Page 25 of Unapologetic Love Story

Tom jolted back from the screen of his phone. His father’s cheerful face smiled back at him, unashamed of his blunt greeting. ‘What, Da?’

‘Your sister says you were buying flowers for a woman.’

‘Wretched traitor,’ Tom muttered. ‘She’s someone I’m profiling for work.’

‘And you’re buying her flowers?’

‘No. Well, yeah . . . I offered to. You know, as a gesture of good faith.’

Nothing to do with the sway of her hips or her green eyes or the way she looked at him like he was an unwanted dinner guest. No self-respecting man would let an infuriating woman like that infiltrate his day-to-day and stop him from threading two sensible thoughts together, let alone buy her flowers.

‘Did you buy flowers for the man with the camper-van? Or that wellness woman?’

‘God, no,’ Tom murmured. ‘No, this is . . . this is different.’

Jem Branimir smiled at his son in a teasing, calculated manner. Tom grimaced and fidgeted, hoping the internet connection would waver and cause the image of him on his father’s screen to blur, thereby concealing his discomfort.

‘How’s the garden?’ he asked, changing the subject.

His father’s entire demeanour changed, the man instantly transported and redirected to his favourite subject. His council house in Scotland was small, but the garden had become the pride of his life since retirement. He spent all of his pension on seed, soil and garden gnomes. He sent so many updates to the family group chat it wasn’t really necessary for Tom to ask after the garden. He already knew the rhubarb was coming in well and that the birds were swarming the new feeder.

Tom listened calmly for a few minutes before Jem finally finished his reporting of the horticultural comings and goings. He still longed for a greenhouse but wasn’t sure there was enough room.

Tom knew it came down to cost more than anything, but he’d learned his father was too proud to accept anything from him.

‘So, who’s this girl then?’

Tom groaned. ‘Go back to worrying about Mirren.’

‘I worry about you too, son.’

‘I’m great.’

‘All you do is work. Which is grand! I can never really follow what it is you write, it goes over my head. Too smart. But it’s been years since what’s-her-name.’

What’s-her-name was Fern. She hadn’t impressed Tom’s family, or even Tom in the end. A slightly sheltered woman he knew from university. Their two-year relationship had ended when she fell in love with her personal trainer and Tom had been secretly relieved. His father had never met Mandy, the girlfriend that came after. She’d ended things because Tom was working too much, and he hadn’t felt the desire to fight her on the decision.

It had been one-night stands since then, and even those had dried up since his career had escalated.

‘When are you coming up to visit?’

The question was lovingly demanded of Tom. He exhaled and pinched his nose. ‘I don’t know.’

‘That’s not an answer.’

‘I don’t know, Da. Everything is busy at the minute.’

Jem harrumphed but dropped the subject. He leaned in, squinting to examine Tom’s face through the screen. Tom frowned. ‘What?’

‘Is that gel in your hair?’

Tom’s hand flew to his hair, a little self-consciously. ‘Yeah. Why?’

‘And you’ve shaved?’

‘Da, what?’

‘It’s Friday, you always look slovenly on a Friday. You push through the work week and then you crash at the end of it.’