Page 13 of The Little Board Game Café

They came to a road and the curly-haired man darted into the middle and held up his hand to stop the traffic so the group could cross safely. He mouthed, ‘Sorry’ at the waiting cars, but none of the motorists seemed to mind the interruption to their journeys; in fact, two wound their windows down and called good evening to him. Emily glanced at him as she panted by. He was very smiley. Wearing the proper running gear too, but old stuff. Not fancy. Still, it left very little to the imagination; there was hardly any fat on him. He wasn’t muscly like a body-builder though. Just nicely toned.

She shouldn’t even be looking. Not when she had a ring on her finger, soon to be joined by a second ring. But it was okay to read menus, wasn’t it, even when you weren’t actually hungry?

Two minutes of walking seemed to pass much more quickly than two minutes of running, and it was like that the entire time. Emily wondered how Rob was getting along, but he was behind her and she couldn’t see. Kate was up near the front and her running companion, Emily noticed, was one of the reasonably good-looking men.

They continued alternating running and walking as they crossed under the railway bridge then over a main road. Emily’s companion sprinted ahead and helped the curly-haired man hold up the traffic – not that he seemed to need any help – and Emily was left running alone. She didn’t mind. It was easier just to run, than to run and make small talk. The Lycra goddess didn’t re-join Emily when the group had all crossed, but sprinted to the front and inserted herself deftly between Kate and the reasonably good-looking man. Within seconds, they’d dropped Kate, who followed a pace or two behind them.

They were on the canal towpath now, heading back towards Essendale. They passed a farm with a scruffy narrowboat moored alongside, went under a bridge and then, at a second bridge, took a set of steps up to the road. And suddenly there it was: Nico’s.

It was an ugly building, Emily thought, incongruous amongst the stone terraces. But perhaps with a lick of paint and a bright sign over the top? A few cakes in the window to tempt customers inside? And a warm greeting as soon as they set foot…

And with that thought, she missed her footing and was suddenly sprawled on the pavement.

‘Are you okay?’

She noticed the lightly tanned – and rather attractive – knees first. She’d never found a pair of knees attractive before but these definitely were. She glanced up to see who they belonged to, though she already suspected. The smiley, curly-haired man who had stopped the traffic was crouching beside her, only his smile had been replaced by a look of concern. He held out his hand and Emily took it, trying to scramble to her feet, but pain seared up her leg.

‘Ouch. I’m not sure I can stand up. I think it’s my ankle.’

‘Stay there. Right or left?’

‘Right.’

The next moment, she felt his fingers on her sore ankle and remembered she hadn’t shaved her legs.

Kate was kneeling beside her now, stroking her hair. ‘Poor Em. You should have opted for skiing.’

‘I blame you for this,’ Emily said, then, ‘Ouch’ as the curly-haired man turned her foot slightly.

A small crowd had gathered around them now, and Emily heard Clipboard Woman say, ‘What’s the verdict?’

‘I’ll run her to the hospital for an X-ray. To be on the safe side,’ said the curly-haired man.

Emily sat up suddenly. ‘No, thanks. I’ll be fine. I’ll see the GP in the morning if I’m not.’

‘And the GP will send you to the hospital. I’d put money on it. And I’d definitely win.’

She had liked him up until this moment, but this seemed a bit cocky. She frowned at Kate, who shrugged.

‘You can’t know that,’ Emily said.

‘I can know that,’ he said. ‘I am the GP.’

Okay, not cocky then. Knowledgeable.

‘But isn’t Dr Pearson…?’ Emily began.

‘Retired,’ he said. ‘About a year ago.’

‘I think you’ve been snookered there, Em,’ said Kate. ‘I know you don’t like hospitals, but maybe you should—’

‘I’m not going to the hospital, but I would appreciate a lift home.’

‘I’ll run you home,’ said the GP, ‘if you promise you’ll come and see me in the morning. Or go and get an X-ray.’

‘If it’s still painful,’ Emily said. ‘That’s my final offer. Deal or no deal?’

He smiled. ‘Deal.’