Chapter 25
25
It really does feel like I’ve been away for ages as the taxi pulls up outside our home. Most of the other people in the Marco Polo group went straight from the ship to the airport, but I was glad that Sam and I had booked an extra night in Rome, as it meant we had time to do a little more exploration including the all-important visit to the Sistine Chapel. Although I missed Cameron more than I expected to, and Sam was definitely missing Robin, it was nice to spend some time together, just the two of us. She had, typically, continued probing to try to find out whether there was more than friendship between Cameron and me, but I’d managed to shut her down.
‘Here we go then. Back to reality,’ she sighs as she pulls her case up to the front door and rummages in her bag for the keys. No sooner has she pushed open the door than Em appears, wearing a party hat and blowing on one of those extending whistles. I glance into the living room to see that she’s decorated it with balloons and a huge ‘Welcome home’ sign.
‘This is all very elaborate,’ I observe cautiously. ‘What are you trying to cover up?’
‘Nothing! No need to be so suspicious. I just wanted to welcome you back in style.’
‘I think it’s lovely, Em,’ Sam tells her, giving her a hug as I stick my nose into the kitchen.
‘There’s nothing to worry about in there,’ Em says. ‘Everything’s absolutely fine, I promise. Even the shop is still in one piece.’
‘Where’s the boy?’ Sam asks, looking around the sitting room for Samson.
‘Ah.’ Em does look a little sheepish now. ‘I did tell him you were coming home and he ought to be here to welcome you, but he seems to have ignored me and gone out.’
As if on cue, the cat flap bangs and Samson nonchalantly saunters in. When he sees us, he stops in his tracks and flicks his tail in mild irritation, before stalking straight past us, jumping up onto the sofa and curling up, watching us warily.
‘Don’t be petulant. We’re home now,’ Sam says as she sits down next to him and starts to stroke him. After a while, he begins to purr softly. It’s not his full-on road drill purr; he’s obviously holding back, making sure we know that we’re not forgiven yet, even if he is enjoying the attention.
‘You should go away more often,’ Em remarks as she settles on the arm of the sofa and takes over from Sam, causing a marked uptick in the volume of the purring. ‘We’ve had a grand old time, haven’t we, Samson?’
‘And Charlie?’ I ask.
‘Has an interview for a job in London next week,’ she says happily. ‘We’re not counting any chickens, but it’s a start. Anyway, did you have an amazing time?’
‘Sam’s dating a vicar,’ I tell her.
‘A vicar?’ Em’s eyebrows have shot up so far they’re practically in her hair line. ‘I thought you were off churchy people after that place you went to where they made you feel like the whore of Babylon.’
‘Bit strong, Em,’ I admonish her.
‘But Biblical,’ she replies with a smile. ‘And therefore topical, no? Charlie found it in the book of Revelation.’
‘What was he doing rootling around in the Bible?’
‘It was a project he set himself, to read the Bible from end to end. He was doing quite well until he got bogged down in Numbers, so he skipped to the last book. There’s some pretty spicy stuff in there, I can tell you. He read the whore of Babylon bit out loud to me; it talks about “the abominations and filthiness of her fornication”. It just reminded me of the way those people were with you. Anyway, I reckon you’ll outrank them all if you rock up with a bona fide vicar on your arm. Is that the point?’
‘No,’ Sam tells her. ‘I didn’t even know he was a vicar to begin with.’
‘He’s really nice,’ I add.
‘Ruby made a new friend too,’ Sam tells her, causing her eyebrows to shoot up again.
‘Just a friend,’ I clarify.
‘The type of friends that share a bed and go skinny dipping together,’ Sam continues, seemingly determined to take the focus off her by throwing me under the bus. ‘And that’s before we get to the raunchy massages. Make of that what you will.’
‘Raunchy massages?’
‘She’s exaggerating,’ I explain, shooting Sam a warning look. ‘We got sunburned and had to rub lotion into each other’s backs.’
‘Of course you did.’ Em giggles. ‘Was this after the skinny dipping? An all-over massage to counter the all-over sunburn? Was there a happy finish?’
‘You have a dirty mind.’
‘Why, thank you.’ She bows. ‘I’m just getting it all out of my system before I go back to Mum and Dad’s. It’s been so liberating staying here, I tell you. And Jono is such a sweetie. I’m going to miss working with him in the shop.’
‘You’re always welcome to come and help out.’
‘Are you paying?’
‘No.’
‘I don’t love it that much. Anyway, I’d better get out of your hair and let you get settled in. Welcome home.’
* * *
Although it’s nice to be back at work, it’s not long before it feels like I’ve never been away at all. Em has done a great job of stock control, and I was both amused and grateful to see a table set out with ‘Em’s Gems’; with everything that happened on the cruise, I didn’t make even a small dent in my reading list so I don’t have any new ‘Ruby’s Recommendations’.
The text arrives on Wednesday, and I’m surprised how pleased I am to hear from Cameron.
Hope you’re settling back into normal life OK. If you still fancy it, we could go shooting a week on Monday? Let me know if that day is no good, and I’ll choose another one, assuming you haven’t gone off the idea completely. Cx
‘Shooting?’ Jono exclaims, horrified, when I tell him.
‘It’s his thing,’ I explain.
‘That’s as maybe, but it’s not yours. Seems a little emotionally illiterate if you ask me. When you organise a date for someone, you’re supposed to show how important they are to you by choosing something they enjoy, not doing your own thing and expecting them to tag along.’
‘It’s not a date. We’re just friends.’
‘You tell yourself that if it helps, sweetie. All I’m saying is that if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…’
‘Are you saying we can’t be friends, just because we’re the opposite sex? Who’s being emotionally illiterate now?’
‘I’m not saying you can’t be friends, honey. I’m just questioning whether you should be friends. Does he look like the back end of a bus? Smell? Eat with his mouth open?’
‘No, no and no.’
‘Gay?’
‘No.’
‘You sound very certain.’
‘His last partner was female.’
‘OK. So he’s male, heterosexual, reasonable looking, without any obvious character flaws. He evidently likes you and, in case you need reminding, you’re pretty hot yourself, even though you’re not my type.’
‘What’s your point?’
‘Two attractive single people who like each other. Friends? I don’t think so.’
‘Friendship is all that’s on offer.’
‘Do you fancy him?’
‘Objection, your honour. I’ve already stated the boundaries of the relationship.’
‘Overruled. Do you think he fancies you?’
‘Irrelevant, given my previous answer. Move on.’
Jono laughs. ‘Oh, Ruby, my love. You’re so full of shit it’s a miracle your eyes aren’t brown.’
* * *
On the day of our shooting trip, I’m feeling distinctly jittery as I get ready. I’ve given Cameron my address and he’s collecting me at nine, but I’ve been up since half past six, and that’s only partly because I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear for a trip like this. Having experimented with a variety of different looks, I’ve gone for jeans with a fitted jersey top. The weather has turned distinctly cooler, so I’ve also dug out a gilet that Mum and Dad gave me a few Christmases ago. It’s really not my style, but I reckoned it would be perfect for shooting as it would keep me warm while leaving my arms able to move freely. At least, that’s my theory. I’m totally at sea here.
The main reason for my anxiety, however, is seeing Cameron again. I’m not so worried about Jono’s predictions that we can’t be friends; I’m confident I can manage that. My primary concern is whether the easy friendship we enjoyed during the cruise will translate into the real world. It’s going to be a difficult day if our conversation proves to be awkward and stilted.
‘Interesting,’ Sam observes when I show her my outfit before she leaves for work. ‘If you’re going for garden centre Barbie as your vibe, you’ve totally nailed it.’
‘I’m not sure that’s the look I’m going for. I was aiming for practical for being outdoors, with a hint of chic when I take the gilet off for lunch.’
‘Oh. Well, that works too, I guess. Underwear?’
‘Yes.’
‘No. What type?’
‘Why does that matter? He’s not going to be seeing it.’
‘You sure? He’s seen an awful lot more in the past. I’ve just had a thought. This isn’t some nudey shooting gig, is it? I mean, you do have history in that department.’
‘Behave.’
‘OK, well, I’m running late so I’d better go. Have fun and I’ll look forward to hearing all about it when I get home. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’
She’s barely out of the door before the bell rings. The knot of stress in my stomach as I open it is only slightly alleviated when I see that Cameron is also wearing jeans and a gilet over his shirt.
‘Snap,’ I say awkwardly as I step aside to allow him to enter the flat.
‘I like your thinking,’ he says with a smile. ‘Although you might prefer the one I’ve got for you in the car. It has a built-in pad to stop the gun bruising you.’
As Cameron steps into the living room, Samson opens his eyes and watches him warily from the sofa.
‘This must be the famous Samson,’ he says, approaching slowly and holding his hand out for the cat to sniff. ‘You’re just as handsome as I was led to believe.’
Having decided that Cameron is not a threat, Samson starts up his loudest purr and headbutts his hand, demanding attention. Watching how natural Cameron is with him eases the tension in my stomach a bit more.
‘You’ve got a fan there,’ I tell him. ‘Did you want a coffee or anything before we go?’
‘I’m good. I’ve got our guns in the back of the car, so I can’t really leave them. I only came in because I wanted to meet this chap. Are you ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be,’ I tell him with a smile as Samson stretches luxuriously and headbutts Cameron’s hand again. ‘I’m not sure Samson is though. He’d happily let you keep that up all day.’
‘Sorry,’ Cameron says, gently withdrawing his hand, much to Samson’s evident disgust. ‘Maybe later.’
Cameron’s car turns out to be a bright red, sporty-looking hatchback, and I can’t help smiling as ‘Everybody Wants to Be a Cat’ from The Aristocats comes out of the speakers when he starts the engine.
‘I’d love to tell you that I spent all of yesterday compiling a Disney playlist for today,’ he tells me. ‘But the reality is that this is the playlist I keep for whenever my niece is in the car. I did remember to cue up your favourite though. Do I get points for that?’
‘Absolutely,’ I tell him with a grin.
As we potter through the inevitable queues of traffic trying to get out of the town, I’m relieved to note that our conversation flows just as easily as it did on the cruise. Silence does fall when we reach the dual carriageway, but it’s comfortable, and I take the opportunity to stare out of the window and watch the view.
The further we go, the more I can feel my anxieties dissipating. We’re knocking this just being friends gig out of the park.