Chapter Twenty-Three
Freya
I had been to Cold Water Club, showered, had breakfast with Dolly, and I had finally arrived at work, full of energy and purpose. Since dinner with Maya, my relationship with Dolly had significantly improved to the point where this morning we actually laughed together over breakfast, and had an interesting and in-depth conversation about Extinction Rebellion. Luckily Joe wasn’t involved because he hated Extinction Rebellion and thought they were quite annoying. The last time we had spoken about them he had said, ‘I just don’t think pissing everyone off and destroying great works of art is the way to get your message across.’ Dolly and I didn’t share that view. It was lovely to have breakfast with my daughter where she wasn’t glued to her phone and we actually chatted.
I was in the kitchen at work making a coffee, and preparing myself for the day ahead, when Sam walked in. I had just put the milk back in the fridge, and I was stirring my coffee, when Sam was suddenly next to me. He looked ever so handsome in a slim navy suit, a crisp white shirt with a cutaway collar, a knitted navy tie and his usual delicious aftershave that hit my nose, sending waves of dopamine and serotonin coursing throughout my body. I had no idea how much his aftershave cost, but surely it was worth every last penny.
‘Morning,’ said Sam.
‘Morning,’ I replied.
‘How are you?’ said Sam, getting himself a pod for the coffee machine, and grabbing a mug from the cupboard. They had twenty or so white mugs with the Becket, Godwin & Anderson logo stashed away in cupboards for us to use.
‘Good. I went to Cold Water Club with Lucy this morning.’
‘Ah, yes, she mentioned that to me before. You take a dip in the freezing cold sea at some ludicrous hour of the morning, I believe.’
‘Yes, that’s it. It’s actually very liberating, and it makes you feel incredible afterwards.’
‘Sounds bracing but I think I’ll stick to my usual morning routine, thank you very much.’
‘What would that be, exactly?’
‘Well,’ said Sam, popping his pod in the machine and pushing it down, before he slid his mug beneath. The machine started to rumble and whirr. ‘I usually rise at six.’
‘Six? That’s early.’
‘Early birds, worms, etcetera. I’ve always been an early riser since boarding school.’
‘What’s next?’
‘I normally go for a run, then I shower, shave, before it’s breakfast and the newspaper.’
‘Let me guess… The Times ?’
‘Shit, am I that obvious?’
‘Depends,’ I said with a smile, as Sam finished making his coffee. ‘Let me see if I can guess what you eat for breakfast?’
‘Go on then. It’s pretty much the same three things on rotation, if that helps.’
‘Right, let me see,’ I said, pondering. ‘One has to be soft boiled eggs and soldiers. You seem like the soft boiled eggs and soldiers type.’
‘Correct. Although is there a type for that?’
‘Definitely. Porridge?’
‘Two out of three. I’m getting concerned I’m either that predictable or you’re stalking me.’
‘Last one. I was thinking something posh like kedgeree or perhaps an old staple like a bacon sandwich, but I think I’m going to go with toast. Everyone likes toast, and I’m thinking Marmite?’
‘Seriously, Freya, do you have a spy camera inside my kitchen because that’s three out of three?’
‘I’m just very good at reading people.’
‘You’ll make a bloody good solicitor one day.’
‘Hopefully,’ I said, and we both picked up our coffees. ‘Have a good day, Sam.’
‘Yes, you too, Freya,’ said Sam, smiling at me, and I smiled back, and I definitely felt something pass between us. I wasn’t sure what it was exactly – an attraction perhaps? – but it was definitely something. How had I never noticed it before? Surely it hadn’t just appeared the moment Joe and I separated? Hadn’t we always got along, and hadn’t I always found him attractive? I started feeling guilty that perhaps I had harboured secret sexual feelings for Sam Becket even while Joe and I were more happily married, but then I realised it definitely wasn’t the case. I had always appreciated the fact he was good-looking, and we had always got along as friends and colleagues, but that part of my brain that allowed attraction to blossom had been turned off. It was like walking past a restaurant where the food smelled incredible, but you were already full. It was just a nice idea if the situation was different.
The message arrived at just after two o’clock:
Fancy a drink tonight?
It was from Sam. I couldn’t help but smile when I read it. I really had no idea what this meant or what it might lead to, if anything, but I was curious. Was it just a friendly drink or a drink and perhaps something more? Was I even ready for something more? The answer came swiftly and with startling clarity: DEFINITELY FUCKING NOT! It would be nice to have another friend though, and someone I could lean on if needed, and who understood the world of law, too. If it just so happened that he was also quite handsome, surely that was just a bonus. I replied:
Sure. Straight after work?
Yes. A few of us are going out.
A few of us . I had clearly misread everything. It was office drinks. I was just another body. I had to admit that the surge of euphoria when I had thought he was asking me out for a drink had felt rather exciting for a moment.
Sounds great. Is Lucy going?
I believe so.
You can count me in.
Wonderful! See you later.
My finger hovered over my phone screen and I was pondering replying with something a little flirtatious like ‘Looking forward to it!’ with maybe a kiss afterwards? Just one of those casual kisses, like the sort you might add without a thought on a birthday card. However, after a moment, I decided against it and put my phone away.
I was disappointed that my initial thought it was a drink just with Sam was wrong, and it was merely an invitation for a work event. However, as I got back to work, I realised it was all very silly because when I had thought it was just us, my first reaction, after a slight initial thrill, had been complete and utter horror. How could I even think about another man when I was still under the same roof as Joe and still so unsure about my feelings towards him and whether our marriage really was inoperable. Was it worth the last-punt surgery in the hope we might make a full recovery?
The place they had chosen for drinks was a lovely old pub just around the corner from work that Lucy and I occasionally frequented, usually on the warmer summer months when we could sit outside. It was a large open pub that had been stripped back with comfy leather sofas, old wooden floors and lots of greenery. It was there that the very best and brightest from Becket, Godwin & Anderson had congregated for after-work drinks.
‘I have a confession,’ I said quietly to Lucy as we started on our second glasses of wine. I’d had quite a light lunch at my desk, and already after one glass I was feeling a little tipsy. My mind had certainly decided it was going to be a little less inhibited than usual.
‘Interested. Go on,’ said Lucy, who was standing next to me at the bar.
I had a brief look around to check that no one from work was within earshot. The partners – Sam Becket, Brian Godwin and Claire Anderson – were sitting around a table together in deep conversation, while the two other paralegals, Emily and Tom, were at the next table, and Lucy and I were at the bar. We were safe.
‘Earlier when Sam texted me, and asked if I fancied a drink, I got a bit excited because I thought it was just going to be us.’
‘Oh my God, Freya, that’s…’ replied Lucy with a huge smile on her face without finishing her thought. Perhaps she was feeling a little tipsy, too. ‘So, you think if he was interested you might be ready to go on a date?’
‘That’s the thing. When I initially thought it was just us and he was asking me out, I was terrified and immediately shot the idea down in my head, but then when I realised it was work drinks, I was disappointed. What the fuck does that mean?’
‘I think it means you’re starting to think of a life beyond Joe.’
‘You think so?’
‘I know so, but, wait, heads up, a hot partner at a local law firm is on his way!’ said Lucy, and when I looked across I saw that Sam was walking towards us, a smile on his face, and I felt my cheeks immediately redden – and it definitely wasn’t the wine.
Sam had already slipped his jacket off – it was lying over the back of his chair – so was just in his shirt and tie. I had to admit he looked bloody good in it. Despite not caring to go into the sea at seven o’clock, obviously his morning runs were doing the trick. He was holding a half-empty glass of red wine in his hand, so obviously didn’t need another drink yet.
‘Hello, ladies,’ said Sam with a dashing smile, and I was feeling rather self-conscious. Could he detect that we had just been chatting about him, and could he see the obvious heat and redness that was emanating from my face? Surely I looked like I had just returned from a week in Greece, and I’d forgotten to pack the sun cream. The word lobster sprang to mind.
‘I just need to pop to the loo,’ said Lucy with an obvious note of I’m going to leave you two alone in her voice that Sam definitely picked up on. To be fair, Lucy wasn’t particularly subtle, especially after a glass or two of wine.
‘Was it something I said?’ asked Sam, filling the space at the bar where Lucy had been.
‘I don’t think so,’ I replied, having a quick sip of my wine to try and settle my nerves. Why was I acting like a silly teenager lusting after the hottest boy in school? I was forty-five years old, surely I was too old to behave like that. ‘I think she just really needed a wee.’
Great save, Freya.
Sam leaned against the bar, and smiled at me, which really didn’t help settle my nerves. ‘So, Freya, how are you?’
‘Yes, yes, all good.’
I noticed his tie had been loosened slightly, and the top button of his shirt had been undone. Was this Sam letting his hair down? I couldn’t even imagine Sam in weekend clothes. I took another sip of wine, and my head felt fuzzy. I should definitely have eaten something before I started drinking, even a packet of crisps or some nuts would have sufficed.
‘I, umm,’ said Sam rather uncertainly. ‘Just wanted to say that after my, umm, divorce, it took me ages to get back out there again. I had been married for the best part of twenty years, and the prospect of dating, of meeting new people, felt like the hardest thing in the world.’
‘I totally understand. Just the thought of it sends my mind into spirals of anxiety and fear.’
‘I also know that eventually it gets better with time,’ said Sam with a smile. ‘And being alone, or the idea of being alone for me, at least, felt harder than actually moving on.’
‘So you’re saying that in two or three years, I’ll be so desperate and lonely, that I’ll be on as many dating apps as my phone can handle?’
‘That’s not what I’m saying at all,’ said Sam with a chuckle. ‘What I’m trying to say, and failing badly at, apparently, is that it’s hard moving on and I’ve been on a few dates, and anyway, Freya, what I wanted to say was that, gosh, this is much harder to say than I thought—’
‘It’s okay, just say it,’ I said, desperate to know what it was that Sam was trying to convey, and gosh, didn’t he look even more handsome when he was nervous. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Lucy had returned from the toilets, and was heading towards the paralegal table. She was clearly leaving us to it.
‘What I wanted to say was that maybe, one day, and I know you’re just coming out of a difficult break-up, and I’m prepared to wait for as long as it takes, but Freya, I think that you are really lovely, and whenever you are ready, maybe, I could ask you out?’ Sam stopped speaking and looked across at me, and I honestly didn’t know where to look. I was suddenly even hotter than before, and my heart appeared to have fallen into the pit of my stomach, which was suddenly like a washing machine on its fastest spin cycle. OMG! Sam Becket wanted to ask me out!
I really didn’t know what to say to him. I was flattered and intrigued that perhaps one day something might happen between us, when I had finally got over my separation from Joe – could I even imagine that? – but all of that felt so far in the future. It felt like trying to understand the size of the universe and, the more videos you watched on YouTube, the more it blew your mind. Obviously Sam and I dating one day wasn’t as complex as how many trillions of galaxies there were in the universe, but still, it was a bit of a head fuck. And yet, I was also excited at the idea of it. How could I not be? Sam was a catch, and for some reason, he thought I was, too. With the complete absence of anything else to say, I said the only thing I could think of.
‘Would there be any issues with work? With us dating, I mean.’ When in doubt, bring it all back to law.
‘Not really. Just some paperwork to fill out. If we’re completely transparent from the beginning then it’s not a problem. At least from a legal viewpoint. Are you worried it might make things awkward though?’
‘A little, and it’s not like I’m anywhere near ready to even think about dating. I’m flattered, Sam, really, and if you’re still interested when I’m like fifty, then I think a date sounds lovely.’
‘It’s a date,’ said Sam with a smile.
‘Wow, you’re prepared to wait five years just for a date. That’s impressive,’ I said, and Sam laughed, and I could feel droplets of sweat sliding down my back. My whole body felt like it was on fire! Imagine going on an actual date with him? It would have to be in the middle of winter or perhaps somewhere near the Arctic Circle. Fancy a date, Sam? Where? Oh, you know, I hear far-north Sweden is lovely in December .
‘I’m sorry if this is weird or overly presumptuous,’ said Sam. ‘But I was listening to a podcast the other day, and they spoke about vocalising your desires and dreams, and how when we say things out loud, put it out in the universe, so to speak, they become more of a reality. So, I just wanted to put it out there.’
‘It’s, honestly, one hundred per cent fine,’ I replied, and I couldn’t deny the feelings that were suddenly crashing their way through my body at that moment. A blast of dopamine and other related romantic chemicals that were suddenly shooting through me causing a surge of giddy euphoria that I hadn’t felt since my early twenties. The idea of dating was terrifying, but somehow the idea of perhaps dating Sam one day didn’t seem so utterly awful. It was complicated, and we both had a lot more baggage than probably either of us would care to admit, but it might be a shot at love the second time around. Sam was divorced from his wife, had three grown-up children, and I was separated and had Dolly, and blending our lives and families would no doubt be a challenge, but that was love and relationships when you were both on your second trip around because the first hadn’t worked out how you’d thought. It was scary, and it would no doubt be a long road ahead, but a difficult, uneven road ahead with Sam was surely better than trying to walk it alone. Right?