Chapter Five #2
Tammy held out the shirt. ‘It should fit. I mean, I’m guessing at the size of course.
Not that I’ve been sizing you up in that sense.
’ She paused, aware she’d been gabbling and made it obvious she had been sizing him up – literally.
‘Probably better if it’s a bit too big than too small.
And don’t feel you have to wear it. Shit.
This is awkward, isn’t it?’ She laughed nervously.
His smile was kind. ‘It’ll be fine, I’m sure,’ he said warmly. ‘Better than turning up with ice cream plastered down my chest or in a Hawaiian shirt.’
‘Yeah. I’ll, er, go in the kitchen while you try it on.’
‘Thank you.’
With rapidly warming cheeks, she scooted into the kitchen and began to wash up last night’s dirty plate and the mug and bowl she’d used for breakfast.
However, dishwashing was hard to focus on when there was a strange guy stripping off his top in her sitting room. Was it wrong that she kept imagining what Ruan looked like under the shirt? Hmm. Pretty good, she’d imagine.
The plate slipped from her hands and clattered into the metal sink.
‘Shit.’
Tammy retrieved it, slotted it into the draining rack and picked up a tea towel, willing herself to calm down.
She’d never been this nervous when she’d had other men in the flat, not that there’d been many. The previous one had been Sean and look how that had turned out …
‘It fits fine.’ Ruan poked his head around the door. Tammy realised she’d twisted the towel into knots.
‘Oh …’ She let out the word on a sigh. ‘You, er – It – looks very smart,’ she gabbled, focusing on the expert knot in his tie instead of the way the slim-fit shirt skimmed his toned chest and flat stomach.
For an office-based geek, he was in good shape and every bit as ripped as many of the surfers who rode the big waves that thundered into Porthmellow in the winter.
‘Like you say, it’s way better than turning up with pink goo on my clothes. I’m very grateful. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. My dad would be pleased.’
‘Will he mind? Should you ask him?’
She smiled. ‘I wish I could. I’m afraid he’s dead.’
His face fell. ‘Oh, God. I’m so sorry. Look, are you sure this is OK to borrow?’
‘I’ve been meaning to chuck it out, but never got round to it. It would go to the charity shop otherwise. It’s time. Dad’s been gone five years this month.’ She avoided saying that the anniversary was that very day because Ruan really would have been freaked out.
‘I’m very sorry for your loss,’ he said solemnly, yet she saw the awkward shift of his shoulders and his glance down at his front. She could hardly blame him for being uncomfortable with wearing a dead man’s shirt.
‘I didn’t say anything before because I knew you’d feel a bit weird in taking the shirt, but honestly, I feel way better about it going to a good home.’
‘I’m touched,’ he said gravely. ‘I’ll look after it, I promise, and I’ll wash it and return it.’
‘No, please don’t!’ she said hastily.
His brow creased and he looked terribly serious again. ‘OK. If you’re absolutely sure …’
Tammy cursed herself inwardly. Was Ruan looking for an excuse to come back to see her? If that was the case, then she’d just scuppered her chances. Sometimes, she was her own worst enemy.
The sound of the clock on the institute chiming through the open window startled them both.
Ruan raised his wrist to reveal the black leather strap of a wristwatch with a gold-rimmed dial. ‘Jeez, is that the time? I’m sorry, I really have to go.’
‘Me too. I need to help Davey in the gallery,’ Tammy said, even though it was her afternoon off. She felt the need to insist she too had a purpose and wasn’t going to spend the day moping around. She’d piled on enough doom and gloom already.
He gathered up his laptop bag and jacket from the sofa. ‘Thanks again,’ he said. ‘For the shirt.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ she said, her spirits nosediving at the realisation she’d probably never see him again. She had to do something, say something, yet the only words she could think of were ‘Take care’.
‘You too.’
He stopped in the doorway for a second, as though trying to gather courage before he said earnestly, ‘Later, after my meeting, do you fancy some dinner at the pub?’
Tammy’s pulse rate ratcheted up several notches. She’d been about to blurt out something desperate like ‘Hold on!’ – if only to give herself time to ask him the same thing.
‘That sounds – good,’ she said, and then grinned stupidly to let him know she was more enthusiastic than she sounded. ‘Very good, but I can’t tonight because I’m going out with some mates for a divorce party.’
‘Divorce party?’ Ruan echoed. ‘Sounds, um, interesting. OK, I’ll call you and we can arrange something for tomorrow, maybe?’
She nodded, feeling she was smiling far too much. ‘Yeah. Great. Speak later.’
‘Good. Thanks again.’ He glanced down at his chest. ‘For the shirt and, um, everything.’
Then he was gone, a set of footsteps hurrying down the stairs.
Tammy hung back from her window, watching him jog out of the alley and along the seafront, presumably to the harbour car park.
She lingered there for a while, reflecting on how surreal her day had been.
She’d known this man for less than an hour and yet she’d invited him to her flat, given him her father’s shirt and agreed to a date.
When she’d woken that morning, she hadn’t even known what design to create as her father’s tribute, let alone that she’d meet this serious, geeky, handsome stranger.
She’d been determined that today would not be sad and would mark a fresh start. It would be an end to years of feeling there was a more fulfilled life waiting for her somewhere just out of reach. Meeting Ruan, however, was a more dramatic fresh start than she had bargained for.
Maybe, just maybe, her dad was up there or somewhere in spirit watching over her and sending good vibes her way.
Who knew? Tammy might have the soul of an artist, but she also had a cynical and pragmatic side.
Otherwise, she’d never have survived the slings and arrows hurled her way over the past few years.
And Ruan was only a bloke. Just a glimmer of a spark.
She fancied him. Who wouldn’t? Despite the sombre suit, the strait-laced haircut and the reserved demeanour, she sensed a kindred spirit waiting to be freed.
She could have fun unbuttoning him and uncovering whatever lay beneath in every sense of the word – even if he was only passing through Porthmellow. A fling with a handsome stranger might be exactly what she needed to brighten up the summer.