To give him some credit, he did look knackered. ‘It’s just rude when someone emails you three times in a row and you don’t get back to them,’ she informed him.
‘I know. I wanted to wait and see you in person.’
So he just ignored her in the meantime? Was his life so important that he couldn’t take ten seconds to fire off a quick one-liner to acknowledge Lizzy’s existence? Men! They needed to get over themselves!
The black cat from next-door materialized from the undergrowth. Lizzy watched it slink down the path. ‘Why are you here, Elliot?’
‘To see you,’ he said simply.
A gust of wind blew through the front door. Lizzy noticed the front of Elliot’s jeans were soaked. ‘Fine,’ she sighed. ‘You’d better come in.’
To Poppet’s credit she didn’t freak out when Lizzy presented a rather soggy Elliot in the living room. ‘You’re very tall,’ was all she said, gazing up at him with huge Poppet eyes.
There was the matter of drying Elliot’s wet clothes. The only thing Lizzy had to offer him in the meantime was a Primark onesie with yellow ducks that she’d accidentally bought in size large.
‘This is technically animal print,’ he said when she presented him with it.
‘It’s this or risk dying of pneumonia. I’ll leave you to get changed,’ Lizzy said, fleeing the room.
She and Poppet were whispering violently when a figure in head-to-toe duck-print appeared in the doorway. ‘How do I look?’ Elliot asked awkwardly.
Lizzy gave him the once-over. ‘Mad.’
Poppet was more encouraging. ‘With your height you can carry off anything,’ she told him.
Considering the bizarre circumstances, the three of them settled down in their onesies to watch TV in a surprisingly companionable silence. Poppet kept shooting Elliot incredulous little looks, as if she couldn’t quite believe he was sitting on the sofa next to her. ‘Do you colour your hair, or is it natural?’ she asked him.
‘All mine, I’m afraid.’
‘It’s very unusual. I mean, it’s not
ginger
ginger, is it? You should think about doing a Grecian 2000 advert. I reckon it would be really popular.’
Elliot looked blank. ‘It’s a hair dye for men,’ Lizzy told him, trying not to laugh. God bless Poppet, she could bring a person down to size without even trying!
A few minutes later Lizzy got up to make another round of tea. Elliot’s jeans were drying on the radiator in the hallway and his expensive brogues were on her boiler stuffed with loo roll. It was all too weird.
What the hell are you doing here?
She quickly shot into the bathroom and put a bit of mascara on. Not for Elliot’s benefit of course. She just looked a bit washed out.
When she returned to the living room he and Poppet were discussing their favourite TV detective shows.
‘I was always a big fan of
Dempsey and Makepeace
,’ he was telling her. ‘Makepeace actually. I had a poster of her on my wall at school.’
‘Do you ever watch
Rosemary and Thyme
? It’s definitely in my top three.’
Elliot adopted a tactful expression. ‘I can’t say I’m that familiar with their work.’
Lizzy plonked their mugs down. ‘Elliot’s more of a fan of film noir, Pops.’
Poppet looked a bit confused. ‘Are we talking about coffee now?’
By the time they’d watched another hour of Jessica Fletcher sleuthing and an episode of
Total Wipeout
, Elliot started to make signs of going.
‘Are you sure?’ Poppet asked. ‘
Strictly
’s on in a minute.’
‘No, no, I don’t want to intrude.’ He was adamant.
Elliot went off to change and came back in his normal clothes. He shot a look at Lizzy. ‘I left the, ah, onesie in the bathroom.’
‘This has been nice, we must do it again. Normally there’s three of us, but Nic and Lizzy have fallen out.’ Poppet clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘I mean—’
‘What have you fallen out over?’ Elliot asked Lizzy.
‘It’s nothing,’ she said, quickly ushering him out of the living room.
The windows of the house across the street were lit up by fairy lights. ‘I can’t believe Christmas is next month,’ Elliot said.
‘What are your plans?’
‘I’ll be back at the Hall for the day itself and then I was thinking of going skiing. Haven’t booked anywhere yet.’ He glanced at her. ‘You?’
‘I’ll be at home with my family.’
‘In Bromley?’
‘Yeah.’
They exchanged polite smiles.
‘Lizzy,’ he said quietly.
Her heart started to thump slowly. ‘Yes?’
Elliot turned to face her. Under the porch light Lizzy could see strands of gold amongst the rich dark-red hair.
‘I was w-wondering,’ he stuttered on the word. ‘I was wondering if I could take you out for dinner?’
‘What about the girl you met?’
‘Girl? What girl?’
‘Your mum thinks you’ve met someone. She heard a girl in the background when she spoke to you at the restaurant opening.’
‘I thought you said your friend saw me?’
Lizzy flushed. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘I’m sure my mother heard lots of voices; I was in a crowded room with a hundred other people. Lizzy, don’t look at me like that. Don’t you get it?
You’re
the girl I’ve met, you bloody idiot.’
Lizzy was so taken aback that all she could think to do was go on the attack. ‘I can’t work you out, Elliot. One minute you’re demanding we go out on the pull to find me a bloke, then you go AWOL for a week, and now you track me down at home using your powers of investigative sleuthing and ask me out for dinner. What’s going on? Why did you come along to a singles night if you’re interested in me?’
‘I thought we could spend some time together.’ He looked at his feet. ‘You know, away from the coffee shop.’
‘At a
singles
night? Why didn’t you just ask me out for a drink?’
‘As mad as it sounds, it seemed liked the best option at the time. I didn’t want to end up with egg on my face if you turned me down.’
‘You were worried about
me
turning
you
down? The high and mighty Elliot Anderson worrying about a lowly PR?’
‘Of course I was worried!’ Elliot was starting to sound exasperated. ‘You’re funny and sexy and sparky and opinionated and vivacious, and you always light up the room whenever you walk in. Why would you want to go out with an old grump like me?’ He went bright red.
‘Say something,’ he said nervously after a minute. ‘You’re starting to freak me out.’
‘I don’t know
what
to say,’ Lizzy admitted.
He grabbed her hand, taking her by surprise. ‘I know you felt it in the restaurant as well,’ he said urgently. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t.’
They stood on the doorstep looking at each other. The opening credits of the
Strictly
theme tune floated down the hallway.
‘I felt it too,’ she said eventually.
Elliot breathed out slowly and released Lizzy’s hand. ‘So come out for dinner with me.’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m not a substitute for Amber, or some other emotional void in your life.’
‘You’re not—’ He stopped. ‘I’m not asking you because I’m on the rebound or anything like that.’
‘Aren’t you?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘No!’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘Look, I know my situation isn’t … ideal. If it were the other way round I’d be equally wary. But Amber and I are in the past. I want to move on, and with you.’ He gave Lizzy a tentative smile. ‘Unless I’ve got it totally wrong and I’m about to make a spectacular arse of myself, I like you and I think you like me. So will you please let me take you out to dinner?’ There was a wry eyebrow. ‘Do I have to get down on my knees and beg?’
‘Begging would be nice.’
‘Lizzy, please say you’ll go out for dinner with me?’
‘Stop it, you idiot, the neighbours will see!’
He got up again, grinning. ‘One dinner is all I’m asking. If it doesn’t work out we can go back to shouting at each other over coffee. Deal?’
‘Deal,’ she said. For a startling moment she thought Elliot was going to kiss her, but his head jerked away at the last moment and his mouth ended up clumsily grazing her cheek.
‘I’ll be in touch then,’ he muttered. Lizzy watched him hurry down the path and disappear into the night.
‘Are you OK out there?’ Poppet’s voice drifted out of the open door.
‘Yeah, coming!’ Lizzy put her hand to her cheek. She could still actually feel where Elliot had kissed her, as if his fingers were playfully tickling her skin.
‘What am I
doing
?’ she said out loud.
This time Elliot was quick to get back to Lizzy, and they agreed to go out for dinner that Friday – somewhere he had chosen.
There had been a few texts back and forth between them, although they had been mainly formal. Arranging what time and where, did Lizzy have any allergies, etc. Somehow it felt safer and more manageable that way.
Only Poppet knew, and she was keeping her usual positive outlook on things. ‘He was a lot nicer than I’d expected. More human. And he must be keen if he came to find you.’
‘But what, Pops?’ Lizzy knew her friend too well.
‘Just be careful, Lizzy. I don’t want you to get hurt.’
The week dragged and hurtled past in equal measure. By the time Friday arrived Lizzy was a nervous wreck. Antonia had left the office early as she was going to Norfolk for the weekend. Everyone else pretended to work for another hour and then decided to head down to the pub.
‘Sweets, are you coming?’ Bianca asked.
‘I’ve got a few more things to do,’ Lizzy lied. ‘Have a good weekend.’
Bianca pulled on her Alice Temperley parka that had cost more than Lizzy’s last summer holiday. ‘Don’t work too hard, darl. Ciao!’
Ten minutes later Lizzy was at the bus stop. The roads were jammed with red buses, none of which were hers. From nowhere she felt that lurch in her belly again, like a washing machine that had jammed halfway round the spin cycle. It was quite a good analogy, she reflected. Her stomach had been doing strange things all week.
‘Get a grip,’ she muttered. ‘You’re a grown woman of twenty-eight. It’s not like you’ve never been on a date before!’
The woman standing next to Lizzy shot her an odd look. Luckily at that point Lizzy’s bus decided to make an appearance.
It’s just dinner
, she told herself as she climbed up to the top deck.
I’ll go along and be funny and vivacious and yet slightly aloof, which will only add an air of beguiling mystery. And if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. As Elliot said, we’ll just go back to trading insults over weekly coffee.
Lizzy found a seat and sat down. Who was she kidding? She was at the point of no return. Whatever happened tonight would change things between them for ever.
At home Lizzy showered and shaved, waxed and plucked. Her eyeliner had to be reapplied three times because her hand was shaking so much. Choosing which red lipstick to wear had become a Herculean task. Ninety minutes and an emergency change of tights later, she was finally ready.
She’d only worn the dress once, at a winter wedding last year. A black number with long lace sleeves from Warehouse, there was nothing particularly showy about it, but it fitted Lizzy as if it had been made for her, and she liked the way the sweetheart neckline showed off just the amount right of décolletage. She’d teamed it with her black heels from Zara, the ones with the delicate ankle-straps. Lizzy sucked her stomach in and turned sideways. Was the lipstick too much?
Too late to do anything now. The cab was here. Lizzy gave herself a final once-over in the mirror. Her reflection looked back, like an old friend wishing her well in battle. ‘It’s dinner, that’s all,’ she said loudly. It had become like a mantra.
Lizzy was too nervous to say much on the journey. ‘You look familiar,’ the cab driver told her. ‘Where have I seen you before?’
‘I’ve just got that face.’ She gripped her clutch bag.
They were meeting at a new restaurant on the River Thames at Bankside. The place had recently opened and was booked up for months. Elliot must have pulled some strings to get them in there. It only increased Lizzy’s trepidation: she’d give anything to be in Nando’s with Nic and Poppet right now.
Nic
. Lizzy’s hand instinctively strayed to her phone, to call or send a text because it was
weird
doing this and Nic not knowing about it. But then Nic’s words came into her mind:
He’s using you, Lizzy.
Lizzy stared grimly ahead. Screw Nicola Cartwright. She’d show her that she wasn’t always bloody right.
Lizzy’s resolve wavered when they reached their destination.
‘Have a great night, love,’ the cabbie told her. ‘Lucky bloke, going out for dinner with a girl like you.’
‘Thanks,’ Lizzy said gratefully. ‘You’ve no idea how much I needed to hear that.’
It was a short walk to the towering Art Deco building. Feeling hideously self-conscious Lizzy tottered into the lobby. A couple were waiting for the lift. The woman gave Lizzy a friendly smile – or maybe she was just relieved that she wasn’t the one walking in by herself.
The doors pinged open on the tenth floor on to an impressive lobby. Lizzy waited for the couple to step out before following them over to the shiny black reception desk that looked like a giant onyx stone. Four model-esque young people dressed in black were sat behind it. Atmospheric lighting glowed on the walls. The place felt more like a luxury spa in Thailand than a restaurant a stone’s throw from the Tate Modern.
Beyond, in the main restaurant area, Lizzy could see the London skyline glittering back at her from the vast windows. The tinkle of a piano was coming from somewhere. It was all too sleek, too perfect, too intimidating. Lizzy started to edge away. She couldn’t do this. She’d just have to text Elliot and say she’d suddenly been struck down with a life-threatening virus …
‘Can I help?’
Lizzy’s finger hovered over the lift button. The girl on the far end of the desk was looking at her.
‘Have you got a dinner reservation?’ she asked.
‘Er yes.’ Lizzy walked back up again. ‘It’s under the name of Anderson?’