Chapter 9
Lunchtime. Damien and Sophie were sitting in a booth at Lemonia, in Primrose Hill, his favourite Greek restaurant.
‘We’ll have some starters,’ he said to the waiter. ‘Hummus, taramasalata, calamari and pitta bread. Anything else for you, Sophie?’
‘No thank you, that’s perfect.’
Sophie was on her best behaviour. She hadn’t started drinking the Pinot Grigio till midday.
‘And for the main,’ Damien said, ‘I’ll have the kleftiko.’
‘I’ll have the baby chicken, please.’
‘Wine?’ he said.
Of course , said the Voice.
‘Yes, please,’ she said, plucking an olive from a little china saucer.
Damien glanced at the menu. ‘We’ll have the Sancerre 2018.’
Not sure a bottle is a good idea at lunchtime , said the Voice. But, then again, it might make it easier for her to express her feelings about Nicholas. Must say it’s a pity the conversation isn’t about you. Would have been much more interesting.
‘Okay, Sophie,’ Damien said when the waiter had gone, ‘you’ve spiked the man’s soup with Viagra and had your way with him, which I might say was a heinous thing to do. So what’s next?’
‘Who knows?’ she replied. ‘For the moment I’ll take life as it comes. At least there’s no going back now.’
Damien couldn’t admit he had a vested interest. That he was nuts about her. He needed to be political. Tell her his honest opinion. What a waste of space Nicholas was.
‘I don’t really want to play the agony aunt,’ he said. ‘But why are you so attracted to this guy? I can guarantee if he did leave his wife and come and live with you, you’d go potty. You’d be bored after a week.’
But Sophie had her own thoughts.
‘It wouldn’t be like that. I don’t want someone who wants to discuss the you-ness, the me-ness, the us-ness. Nicholas is happy to be practical. He can fix anything. Plumbing, electrics, mending things. He’s not predatory. There’s an innocence about him. And I can tell you it feels very sexy being the seducer.’ She lowered her voice and looked up at Damien, her eyes soft and dreamy.
There you go! said the Voice. So now you know what turns her on, next time drop your alpha-male side and show her your inner child. But, for now, carry on with the therapy bit.
‘I think you’ve got a real problem, Sophie,’ Damien said, pouring her another glass of wine. ‘Why are you punishing yourself? You’re an amazing woman. How could you fall for such an ordinary man?’
The starters had arrived. Damien dipped a radish in the taramasalata and popped it in his mouth. Sophie just played with a celery stick, swirling it around and around the hummus.
‘Please, Damien, you don’t understand,’ Sophie replied. ‘When Nicholas came along, it was a godsend to meet someone who was happy to take on a weeping widow. I was a wreck after Daniel and Mikey died. To tell you the truth, I didn’t want to live.’ Sophie picked up her napkin and hid her eyes. ‘Just give me a second,’ she said tearfully.
‘You really don’t have to talk about it any more.’ Damien stroked her hand.
Let her , said the Voice. She’s obviously still in love with her husband. Misses him terribly. Nicholas is just a sticking plaster. Who knows, maybe she thinks a guy like you would be too dangerous for her.
Damien reached for Sophie’s napkin and gently wiped away her tears.
Well, that’s a start , said the Voice.
She gave him a wan smile. ‘Nicholas rescued me. He was so kind. Always a phone call away if I needed anything. And he’s still around five years later.’
‘Why wouldn’t he be?’ Damien said. ‘Nothing to lose for him. Comes up to London, has a bit of glamour and then back to his dull life in Bournemouth.’
‘I suppose that’s true.’ Sophie chewed pensively on a calamari ring. ‘Maybe I just fill in the gaps. Do all the things that his wife never does. Cook for him, go with him to art galleries and the theatre, watch old movies. Apparently, she hates anything to do with culture. They seem to have absolutely nothing in common.’
Yes, they do , said the Voice. Two children, a couple of dogs and twenty years of marriage.
‘He’s a romantic. I know it gives him pleasure to bring me flowers and presents. He says she’s more excited by a chainsaw than a piece of jewellery.’
‘Don’t tell me, he also told you that they haven’t had sex for years.’
‘As a matter of fact, yes. And when they did, it was mechanical. No passion.’
What a loyal chap , said the Voice.
‘So at last we’re finally lovers.’ Sophie sighed. ‘I’m glad I gave him Viagra. He would never have succumbed normally. Too disciplined. Likes to give himself a hard time.’
The mains had arrived. Damien was hungry. All that talk about Nicholas had made him feel insecure. Why couldn’t she let herself love him? Damien Spur: handsome, world-class writer, legend in the sack.
He took a bite of kleftiko. ‘Food’s always good here. Shall I order some more wine?’
Sophie picked at her chicken. Damien, you’re a gorgeous man. What’s wrong with me?
‘Anyway, maybe now he’ll see the light and leave her.’
‘I’m not sure about that.’
‘Just tell me what you think,’ she said.
‘About what?’
‘Nicholas,’ she said. ‘Do you think it a dead end?’
Here goes , said the Voice . Your chance to wean her away from Mr Creepy.
Damien put his knife and fork down and looked her in the eyes.
‘If you want to know my honest opinion, Nicholas is a con man. He’s flattering you to keep you on the hook. He wants you, but he won’t leave his wife. Why? Because you’re trouble. Far too sophisticated for him. A little of you goes a long way. And then he can go back to his wife and fantasise about you at night.’
Clever Damien.