Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
W ith seven rounds of speed dating down, Fleur took a sip of her water. Her mouth was parched from all the talking. The irony was that any other time, then speed dating would be just her thing - a fun night and the potential for finding someone she could share a few dates with. But tonight, she just wasn’t in the mood. Besides, however much she told herself and others that she wanted to find someone to settle down with, deep down she knew she never would.
The man sitting opposite her, someone she didn’t recognise from the town, raised his eyebrows questionably.
‘Umm... sorry. Can you repeat the question?’ Fleur glanced across at the table behind him. Matty was chatting and laughing with Lucy from down her road. He looked relaxed. Happy. Huh, they’d actually probably make a lovely couple. Lucy had always been kind to her. Not once had she seen or heard anything about her doing anything such as running off from her groom-to-be. Yes, she’d treat him right. She shook her head and focused on the man in front of her again.
‘I asked you what your favourite vegetable was?’ The man spoke slowly, as though to make sure Fleur heard him this time.
‘Right, of course, that’s what you asked.’ Did it matter what vegetable was her favourite? Did he only date broccoli lovers? Or would it be a fast no if she told him she liked eating carrots? She refrained from rolling her eyes at yet another meaningless question from someone she hoped she’d never have the displeasure of talking to again and blurted out the first thing that entered her head. ‘I hate vegetables. I try not to eat them.’
The man spluttered into his drink. ‘You don’t eat vegetables?’
‘Well, of course I do, but I wouldn’t choose to sit down and munch on a bowl of sprouts.’ She twisted her glass in her hand as she tried to lip read what Lucy was saying to Matty.
‘Vegetables hold so manyessentialvitaminsthat you need to be eating daily to remain healthy, you...’
Was Lucy asking him on a proper date? She narrowed her eyes as she desperately tried to zone in on what they were saying, but it was no good. The drivel about the importance of eating your daily vegetables was drowning out anything Lucy was saying. She was sure she’d heard the word film, though. What if she was asking Matty out? Fleur’s stomach churned. As she turned her attention back to the man in front of her, she almost felt compelled to tell him she’d stoop to eating a bucketful of sprouts she was that hungry because she hadn’t eaten since lunch, but somehow, she didn’t think he’d get the joke. Instead, she realised she must have missed another question if the stone-cold stare he was giving her was anything to go by.
Thankfully, the bell rang through the restaurant, and she breathed a sigh of relief as the man pushed his chair back and walked away from her without even a cursory ‘goodbye’. She had a feeling he’d be crossing her name off his list of potential matches and scoring her a big fat zero. She looked down at her scorecard. It was still empty despite the number of conversations she’d been forced to participate in. She closed her eyes and reminded herself there must only be another five awkwardly stilted conversations to go. Five!
‘Hello, Fleur.’
Flinging her eyes open, she watched as Matty slipped into the chair opposite her. Of course she’d been expecting him, but his presence still made her jump. She squirmed in her chair and glanced towards Sadie, willing her to look this way and come to rescue her.
‘Fleur, I’m...’
The loud tinkle from Gregory’s bell cut him off.
What was she supposed to do? She focused on her scorecard, willing him to just disappear or else a herd of elephants to run in from the kitchen. Something, anything. With the reality that nobody was going to extract her from the situation, she pushed her chair back and mumbled, ‘Sorry, need the ladies.’
‘Fleur please.’ Matty placed his hand on her forearm.
She looked down at his hand against her skin, the familiar shot of electricity that she used to feel between them shocking her enough to lower herself back into her chair. When he removed his hand, she continued to stare at her forearm, the absence of his warmth on her arm filling her with a chill.
‘You’ve not filled in your scorecard, then?’ Matty pointed to her blank card.
Shaking her head, she raised her eyes, meeting his for the first time since he’d sat down. The deep blue of his irises flooded with warmth at her acknowledgement.
‘Same here.’ Matty chuckled as he picked up his own scorecard and waved it in front of him.
‘You haven’t?’ Her voice cracked as she spoke. He was really sitting opposite her. After all this time. All she wanted to do was to jump up and run around the table and sink into his embrace but she knew the time she could do that had long since gone.
Because of her.
‘Course not. I only came here so I could get a chance to speak to you.’
‘You did? How did you know I was going to be here?’ She frowned.
‘Gregory mentioned you had kindly stepped in to help after Ruby was called away.’ Matty smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
‘I didn’t volunteer.’ Pulling away from his gaze, she picked up her scorecard, turning the corners down.
‘I wondered that.’ Matty chuckled again, a sound she’d once been so familiar with. ‘I see nothing’s changed since I left.’
She shook her head. He was right. In a way. Gregory hadn’t changed at all. Nor had the stupid politics of the town she so rallied against.
‘You have though.’ Matty’s voice was quiet as he waited for her to look up at him.
‘I have?’ She frowned. What did he mean? Was he referring to her walking out on him? Was he hinting at what a horrible person she’d become? He wasn’t wrong. She was awful. What she’d done to him on what was supposed to have been the best day of their lives had been unthinkable.
‘Yes. You followed your dreams. I saw your flower shop. I’m proud of you.’
‘Proud of me?’ Bringing her thumb to her mouth, she bit down on her nail. How could he be proud of her? She’d been horrible to him. She’d ruined his life. Unless she hadn’t. Huh, it had probably been the best thing she’d done for him. She bit down again, this time, her mouth filling with the metallic taste of blood. Is that what he meant? He was thankful she’d left him at the altar because she’d have only ruined his life?
‘For opening the shop.’ Matty leaned forward, gently pulling her thumb from her mouth. ‘I see you’ve not changed that habit.’
‘Umm...’ She looked down at her thumb, a trickle of blood escaping from the torn cuticle.
‘Here, let me.’ Pulling a tissue from the pocket of the suit jacket hanging from the back of his chair, he reached over again and wrapped it carefully around her thumb.
‘Thanks.’ She automatically covered his hand with hers before realising what she was doing and pulling her hands away quickly. ‘Sorry, I...’
‘We need to talk.’ Matty’s words were clear, his tone firm.
‘No, I... there’s nothing to talk about.’ Fleur shook her head. She couldn’t talk to him. Not properly about their past, about what had happened, about what she’d put him through. This was painful enough. She couldn’t imagine being forced to have a deep conversation with him. ‘We don’t.’
‘I disagree.’ Matty looked at her.
Fleur pulled on the collar of her top. ‘Look, I’m sorry, okay. But the past is in the past. I shouldn’t...’
‘Time to change.’ Gregory rang the bell as people began standing up from their tables, some with clear expressions of relief, whilst others clung to their scorecards and grinned.
‘I understand, but with me living here now, we really need to...’ Matty threw Gregory an exasperated look as he rang the bell again, his eyes fixed on their table. ‘Meet me tomorrow at lunchtime.’
‘I can’t. I’ve got work to do.’
‘In the evening then. Seven outside your flower shop.’ Matty stood up, scraping his chair back to signal the end of the conversation.
‘No, Matty. I can’t.’ She couldn’t. She couldn’t meet him. What would she say? Surely, they didn’t need to clear the air? It had been ten years. Life had happened between then and now. They were both completely different people to who they had been back then, with different experiences, values.... ‘No.’
‘Time to change.’ Gregory waltzed over to their table and leaned over it, ringing the bell in their faces.
‘Okay, Gregory. We get it, okay.’ Fleur shook her head, frustration bubbling inside her.
‘But you’re holding everyone up. Matty, please move along.’ Gregory shook his head and tutted.
‘Tomorrow, seven.’ Matty tapped the table before walking away and slipping into the chair opposite his next date.
With her elbows on the table, Fleur covered her face with her hands. No, no, no. She couldn’t meet him. She didn’t want to.
‘Good evening. My name is Terence. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
Fleur slowly lowered her hands and looked across the table to the older man. Reluctantly, she took his proffered hand, which he eagerly shook. This was going to be a long seven minutes. ‘Evening.’