Chapter 5 #3
‘It’s like a gift from God…’ Laura mutters, as she waves at him. He smiles, and it is a stone-cold killer of a smile. There is a collective swoon, as he pulls the door open.
‘Are you closed?’ he asks, pointing at the sign. ‘It says you are, but then I noticed the place was full. The windows were steaming up a bit.’
Yes, I think, biting my lip to keep the laughter back, that would be because of the sheer amount of lust flying around. Or, to be more polite, appreciation.
‘No, no, we’re never really closed!’ Laura says, ushering him inside. Close up, he is even more jaw-dropping– a wide mouth, defined cheekbones, thick, slightly long hair. He has a top tied around his waist, and he tugs it back on over his head. Laura looks distinctly disappointed.
Luna yaps and then runs over to him. He immediately crouches down to give her a tummy tickle, and she rolls around in ecstasy.
‘That’s Luna,’ Laura says, ‘and I’m Laura. Let me introduce you to everyone…’
She goes around the table giving our names, and naturally enough when she gets to me, I feel my face blazing up.
Stop it , I tell myself. There’s no need to be embarrassed.
He can’t read your mind. Besides, in my experience, middle-aged women are completely invisible to young men anyway– we simply do not exist in their universe.
Their eyes skim over us on the way to something more appealing and relevant.
He is no older than his mid-thirties, possibly even younger than that.
His eyes, a really quite dazzling shade of green, linger on mine for a moment as we are introduced.
I wait for him to skim past me, as expected, but he doesn’t.
A small smile plays on his lips, and for a second I worry that he actually can read my mind.
Or that he’s a hypnotist. Shit, what if he’s a hypnotist?
What if we all end up squawking like chickens every time somebody says the word ‘marshmallow’ or something?
‘Ladies,’ he says, giving us a small bow, ‘it’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’m Aidan. I run past here most days.’
‘Do you really, love?’ says Cherie, keeping an admirably straight face. ‘Well, isn’t that nice! Our door is always open. Unless it’s closed, and that usually means we’re in the pub. Can we offer you some cake, or coffee, or?—’
‘Anything at all!’ finishes Laura, grinning up at him. ‘You’re living in the old Hazelwell place, out near Eggardon Hill, aren’t you?’
‘I am. It’s beautiful. My own little patch of paradise. I’m from New York originally, and this is very different. Exactly what I needed.’
You can hear the States in his voice, but also a hint of British. At a guess he’s someone who moved around as a child.
‘Have you had any spooky experiences?’ Auburn asks. She glances at me and adds: ‘Eggardon Hill is the stuff of legends. Iron Age hillfort. Personally, I love it, but there are all kinds of stories. Hauntings. Ghouls. Cars mysteriously breaking down.’
I’m intrigued and vow to go and explore as soon as I can.
I love things like that, and find ancient sites fascinating.
I can look at stone circles all day long, and my mind conjures up all kinds of wonderful stories to go with them.
My own mind is often a bit like my own Netflix.
The upside of that is that it’s free; the downside is that I can’t switch it off, and the curse of having a vivid imagination is that you can imagine the bad just as easily as the good.
Before I was truly successful as a writer, I bought a ticket for the National Lottery.
I lay in bed that night and fantasised about my new life as a millionaire, and it started well– financial security, freedom, world travel, multiple donations to animal sanctuaries– but within a few minutes, somehow my brain had taken me on a darker path– getting kidnapped, being pursued by con men, dying alone and scared in my Mayfair mansion. It was quite the ride.
‘Nothing spooky so far,’ he says, grinning.
‘Other than the most supernaturally beautiful sunsets. Never seen anything quite like it. Anyway, I can’t stay today.
Just wanted to show my face. Next time, I’ll come in with proper clothes on, and join you for a coffee.
Zoe, Auburn, Cherie, Laura, Becca, Max, Sarah– I hope to see you all again soon. ’
I can’t believe he remembered all of our names, and from the way he looks at us all individually as he speaks, he’s even matched them to the right people.
Maybe there actually is something Halloween-y about him, like Cherie says.
He definitely looks the part, with his piercing green eyes and all that muscle.
Like he could be a weretiger or something…
He looks at me for a few more moments, and I start to wonder if I have cake smeared on my face.
‘Sarah’s new here too,’ Laura pipes up, as he turns and walks towards the door. ‘You should get together. Swap notes.’
What the actual F is she up to? I’m too surprised to even glare at her, and before I can splutter out a reply, Aidan smiles at me. That smile. It really is trouble. The kind of smile that turns women to rubble at ten paces.
‘I’d love to,’ he answers, his eyes meeting mine. I can’t look away, no matter how much I want to. Definitely a hypnotist. He looks mildly amused at the blush that is now so bright I must look like a matchstick on legs. ‘Perhaps we can watch a sunset together, Sarah?’
I manage a jerky nod, and he leaves, running back down the way he came, practically enveloped in a cloud of sex appeal and self-confidence.
‘Oh my god, the way he looked at you!’ says Laura, fanning herself with her hands and jumping up and down so her boobs jiggle. ‘What just happened?’
‘I have no idea,’ I say, standing up, feeling a little unsteady.
I am not happy with any of this, and realise I shouldn’t have come.
I should have stayed in my little house.
‘But I’m not sure I like it. Laura, I literally just told you that I value my privacy– why would you do that? Why would you put me in that position?’
There is an awkward silence, and I feel momentarily bad about it.
There is clearly no harm in these ladies at all, especially Laura– but even coming here was a big step for me.
Making potential friends is a big step for me.
Trusting anybody at all is a big step. And now I feel like I’ve been thrown under the matchmaking bus in a really inappropriate way.
I see Laura’s face changing as she realises she’s crossed a line. She glances at Cherie, and the older lady just raises her eyebrows in a ‘you’re on your own, kid’ kind of way.
‘Ohhhh… Oh no… I’m so sorry!’ she stutters, her hands flying to her face. She looks so stressed, and I’m worried she might even cry. ‘I’m really, really sorry, Sarah. I didn’t think. I just got carried away. He was definitely looking at you like he was interested, and?—’
‘He really wasn’t, Laura,’ I say as gently as I can, ‘but even if he was, I really don’t need to be set up on almost-dates with strange men.
I know nothing about him, and after my last experience in the dating world…
I know you didn’t mean any harm, but please don’t get carried away on my behalf again. ’
She nods vigorously, and I now feel evil, like I’ve kicked a puppy. In fact, I now feel like I should apologise. Ugggh. People stuff is complicated. The real world is messy. Is it any surprise I prefer fiction?
‘I won’t,’ she replies hastily. ‘And again, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.’
‘I’ve forgiven you already, Laura. I just… I’m really not interested in men right now.’
Not even, I tell myself, a man who looks like that. A man with a smile that could entirely possibly make me forget my own name, never mind my own rules.