Ten
The last thing I wanted to do now was eat.
What I really wanted to do was call Erin and tell her all about bumping into Sam. But I remembered she was on shift this afternoon and all evening, and unfortunately for me, solving serious crimes took precedence over my love life.
Instead, I followed the waitress as we weaved our way through the restaurant to a table by the window. I removed my jacket and hung it over the back of my chair, having slipped my scarf and gloves into one of the large, side pockets. Once seated I read the menu, my mind still half on Sam and Jenna and only partly on what I wanted for lunch.
Eventually, I ordered skate in a samphire sauce with winter vegetables and chips, together with a large glass of white wine. Then I stared out of the window, at nothing in particular, as people walked along the promenade in both directions, and the greeny-blue sea beyond gently lapped at the sandy shore of Fairlight Bay.
My skin tingled and my heart beat faster as I remembered the days and nights I’d spent with Sam on that beach, and in several other places, and how wonderful it had felt to have Sam’s arms around me. Was there even the slightest possibility that I might feel those strong yet tender arms around me again, anytime soon?
Jenna was far, far prettier than me. There was no point in denying that. And so much sexier than I could ever hope to be. Plus, she and Sam were clearly in some sort of relationship, otherwise she wouldn’t have slipped her arm through his. And they were obviously going somewhere together – somewhere neither of them wanted to be late for, so that wasn’t looking good for me.
And yet, Sam hadn’t introduced her as his girlfriend, and from the way she had behaved, I was fairly certain that, if she had been his girlfriend, she wouldn’t have hesitated to say so. All she had said was that I might have a boyfriend. She hadn’t said, ‘Sam, I’m your girlfriend and you shouldn’t be asking other women out for a drink.’ Or anything along those lines.
Although, Sam hadn’t asked me out, exactly, he’d merely suggested we should go for a drink to catch up. Perhaps that didn’t bother Jenna, and she would hardly see me as competition.
Of course, he might not even call. Men often said they’d call and then didn’t, in my experience. And in Erin’s. It was something that bugged us both.
‘Why do men say they’re going to call if they’ve got no intention of doing so?’ I’d asked Erin on more than one occasion.
‘It’s so bloody annoying,’ Erin frequently said. ‘If I had my way, it would be a crime. The crime of lying and leading women on. It’s not as though they have to say they’ll call, is it? I mean, it’s not written in stone that all men must say those words to every woman they meet.’
And almost as bad as that was the fact that Sam hadn’t said when he would call. Just that he’d call me later. What did that mean? Later today? Sometime tomorrow? Later in the week?
I was going around in circles, so when the waitress brought the wine, I drank it down within seconds, and asked for a second glass.
I glanced around the restaurant, trying to think of something other than Sam, but all that did was made me realise I seemed to be the only person in there who would be eating alone.
There were tables occupied by couples, tables occupied by friends, tables occupied by families, but only one person occupied my table – me – on my own.
Thankfully, no one else, other than my waitress who smiled at me when she brought the wine, appeared to be that interested in me. The story of my life.
Even so, I turned my chair slightly so that I was directly facing the window and not the empty seat opposite me, and sipped my second glass of wine as I tuned out the cacophony of voices around me, and stared at the throng of people outside, and then across the expanse of the English Channel, and the boats, and ships, traversing the busiest shipping lane in the world.
‘Would you mind some company?’ a voice behind me asked a few minutes later.
I quickly swivelled in my chair and turned to face a smiling waiter.
‘I’m sorry. What?’
‘I asked if you would mind some company,’ he repeated, his smile, like the waitress’s, firmly fixed in place. ‘As you can see, we’re rather busy today. But please say if you’d prefer to eat alone. It’s just that this is the only table with a seat free, and as it happens, there’s another single person here today.’
He said it as though single people were a rarity. Perhaps they were in this restaurant. Or even in this town.
‘You’re asking me if someone can join me?’ I queried.
He nodded, still smiling.
‘Male or female?’
The smile faltered a fraction. ‘Male. Is that a problem?’
‘Erm. No.’ I looked around but I couldn’t see anyone nearby so I assumed that the person had probably been sent to wait at the bar, as I had. I was about to say it was okay, despite not really feeling okay about it at all but deciding it would be churlish to say no, and then my phone rang before I could continue. The screen display said, ‘unknown number’, so I raised a finger in the air to ask the waiter to give me a minute. ‘Hello,’ I said.
‘Hello, Lucy.’
‘Sam?’ I couldn’t believe it was him and yet I recognised his voice from earlier.
‘I said I’d give you a call. I decided now was as good a time as any.’ He gave a small cough. ‘May I join you for lunch? I’m hoping you’ll say yes, but it’s fine if you say no. Well, not fine, exactly, but I’ll understand if you’d rather be on your own.’
‘Sam?’ I repeated. ‘But you left. With Jenna. You had somewhere to be.’
‘I did. Now I don’t. May I join you?’
‘Yes!’ I shrieked, waving at the waiter and nodding like a buffoon. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Excellent. Then I’ll see you in five minutes.’
‘Five minutes? But … aren’t you waiting at the bar?’
‘No.’ He laughed. ‘I’m at a friend’s house. I’m about to get on my bike.’
‘Your bike? You … you’re cycling here?’
‘Cycling?’ He laughed louder. ‘Nope. Motorbike.’
I laughed too, but I felt rather foolish. Of course it would be a motorbike and not a bicycle. What was I thinking?
‘Are you bringing Jenna?’ He’d said he was at a friend’s house; I assumed it was hers.
‘Jenna? No.’ He sounded as confused as I was. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
He rang off just as the waiter approached with a man following him, and I realised I’d made a huge mistake. When I’d answered my phone, I’d incorrectly thought it was Sam who’d asked if he could join me, not a total stranger. I shook my head at the waiter and the smile faded from his lips.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said as he neared my table. ‘I thought it was … a friend. Erm. This seat’s not vacant, after all. My friend is coming to join me.’
The waiter glared at me but the man behind him smiled and shrugged. He was actually rather good-looking.
‘Don’t worry,’ the stranger said in a pleasant manner. ‘These things happen. Enjoy your lunch with your friend.’ He turned to the waiter. ‘I can wait.’
The waiter threw me an irritated look and then that smile was back in place.
‘I apologise for the confusion, sir,’ he said to the man, completely ignoring me. ‘I’ll get you seated as soon as I can. Thank you for being so understanding.’
‘Sorry,’ I said again, as the pair of them went back towards the bar.
I caught the attention of my waitress and ordered another glass of wine. My third. But I needed it. I gulped down the last drops of my second glass and handed it to her when she brought the next one.
‘A friend is now joining me for lunch,’ I said. ‘Is there any chance you could ask the chef to hold my meal until he orders? He’ll be here in five minutes.’
She raised one brow, but the smile hardly faltered. ‘I’m sure that won’t be a problem.’ The look in her eyes, however, told me otherwise.
I wasn’t making any friends among the staff at Freddie’s Fish and Chips.