Chapter 3 #2
‘Do you like football?’ I asked and then checked myself. ‘Sorry, that’s probably a stupid question. You’re American?’
He nodded.
‘I should say soccer, then. But you probably don’t know that much about it?’
Amusement danced in his eyes. ‘We do play soccer in the States. I know about the offside rule.’
‘You do know your stuff,’ I teased. ‘I’m impressed. I still have to explain it to my flatmate, Esther, and I’ve told her a dozen times.
My face faltered as I remembered that both my flatmates, Esther and Jamie, hadn’t spoken to me for a couple of weeks. They were still furious with me, and I couldn’t really blame them. I was never going to regain their trust.
‘You okay?’ he asked as my vision blurred for a second. His posture softened as if he was about to lean over towards me.
‘Yes. Sure,’ I replied, blinking, as a tear spilled out.
‘So, where you headed?’ he asked. I stared at him surprised by the unexpected conversational key change. Until then it was obvious he was keeping me at arm’s length.
‘New York,’ I said and then forced a laugh.
‘Obviously.’ I spread my hands out, indicating the planeload of people all going to New York.
‘I’m going there for Christmas.’ I opted not to go into too much detail because I’d had chapter and verse from the online trolls about my stupidity. I didn’t need to share it anew.
‘Got family there?’
I shook my head and swallowed back the lump, wishing my mum could see me now. It had been our dream together.
‘No, just having a holiday. How about you?’
‘Flying home. Sort of.’
‘So, is this flight business or pleasure?’
A brief flutter of alarm crossed his face.
‘Sorry, I’m nosy. Hazard of my job.’ I held up both hands. ‘In the interests of full disclosure, I’m a journalist.’ Even now, I got a buzz out of saying it. I’d worked hard to get there having done a ton of internships and a journalism degree.
‘Shit.’ Now he looked absolutely horrified.
‘But I work for Money Weekly, so I’m not interested in celebrity gossip.
Even if I did know who you are.’ I wasn’t about to confess that I was currently suspended.
‘Unless you’ve cleared out your company’s pension fund, are about to buy a bank or set up a new hedge-fund, then your secrets are safe with me. ’
‘You’re a financial journalist?’ he asked, immediately relaxing. Once again, I noticed that cute quirk to his mouth.
‘Yes, I spend my days writing about interesting things like pensions and banking, as well as the really fascinating stuff like interest rates, stagflation and monetary policy.’
He raised an eyebrow, and I was pleased to see that he was giving me a second appraisal.
‘I know. I don’t look like one.’ Something to do with the long, wild hair, dainty features and willowy build.
No matter what I wore, and I’d tried, I never looked quite put together.
I might wear a suit, but my shirt would never stay tucked in.
Drape a scarf around my neck and it will be lopsided after five minutes.
And don’t get me started on the devil’s work that tights are.
They were born to be laddered and that’s the ninety-million granny denier ones.
‘I’m intrigued. What should a financial journalist look like?’
‘Oh, you know. Foxy. Smart. Black or navy suit. Killer heels. Briefcase. Yeah, definitely briefcase. I had one once.’ I pulled a face.
He laughed and we exchanged a grin. My pulse tripped. It made such a difference to his face, lighting up his eyes.
‘What happened?’
‘I could not get to grips with the stupid thing. Always bashing my legs with it. Honestly, I looked like I’d been in a football match with a bunch of donkeys. Covered in bruises.’
‘I noticed you walked into the coffee table, a couple of times.’ He glanced down at my legs. ‘Maybe if you slowed down a bit.’
‘You sound like my mum. She always said I was in too much of a hurry to do everything. I started walking when I was nine months.’
‘Me, too. A fact that my mom is very proud of. I could kick a ball, too.’
‘Impressive,’ I teased, and his eyes sparkled back at me. ‘And have you developed any more talents over the years?’
He raised his eyebrows, and I groaned.
‘Oh God, I’m sorry. That was not a leading question.’ I shook my head in mock despair before adding, ‘Things just come out of my mouth all the—’
He sniggered and then it turned into a full-blown laugh.
I hid my face in the palm of my hand. ‘I can’t believe I just said that. What must you think of me?’
‘Irritating but … you’re kind of cute.’ Even he looked surprised at his own words. ‘I mean…’ Now it was his turn to blush, and it was so unexpected and he did it so adorably that I had to rescue him.
‘Hey, I’ll take cute. To be honest, my ego could do with a little boost. It’s been trampled on of late.’
‘I know that feeling,’ he said, his face softened with sympathy. ‘Mine is shot to shit.’
‘Sorry. Mine, too.’
We both lapsed into silence, each dwelling on our own issues.
‘But,’ I said brightly, ‘we don’t have to think about that now. We’re thirty-thousand feet away from all that crap. We should just enjoy the flight. Looks like they’re about to serve lunch.’
‘Good. I’m starving. I had someone get me a measly bag of crisps hours ago. You know there’s less than a single potato in one of those packs.’
‘How inconsiderate of them. And they were free. You’d have thought they’d have brought you more. I have a spare KitKat in my bag if you want one.’
With another one of his smiley laughs, where his eyes crinkled at the corners, he shook his head.
‘No. You keep it. You’re really kind … I mean back there …
that was above and beyond. Real kind of you.
I could’ve been a bit more grateful. I was kind of surprised when you… ’ He looked down at his lap.
‘Me too, to be honest,’ I said. ‘I just thought you needed … some help.’ I gave him a sympathetic smile.
‘I’ve…’ I wasn’t sure I wanted to confess my recent history to him.
Right now, he was impressed I’d rescued him.
If he knew what a mess I’d made of everything, he might not feel quite the same.
‘I’ve had a tough time recently. I get it. ’
‘Even so, it was quite something.’
‘I know,’ I said with a cheerful smile which made him laugh again.
Go me. I felt positively dizzy with triumph that I was getting this many laughs out of him.