Chapter 21
Mattie clicked her seat belt into place and leaned back against the head rest. “That was a long old day,” she said. “I’m thinking shower, dinner, and mindless TV in my warm and dry hotel room.”
Moeen rubbed the three-day-old growth on his chin. “I need to shave this off before I chat with Lulu, or she won’t recognise me.”
Mattie smiled. Moeen was so enthralled by his little girl.
She was only fifteen months old, but he spoke to her every day when he was away from home.
The calls Mattie had overheard—privacy wasn’t always a given, considering the close proximity they sometimes had to work in—were a total cute-fest. Working in a team with him as the camera operator was different in so many ways to Jon.
Not better or worse, just different. Jon had more of a single-minded focus, like her, and between them, they were always consumed by the stories they were working on.
Moeen was far more family-focused and ring-fenced his personal time.
She frowned. Personal time. What did that look like for her?
Simon and his family, yes. Shona and Lisa were her besties and adopted sisters rolled into one.
But beyond that? Lots of drinking buddies and colleagues, but she had no one special.
She sighed. Enough thinking for one day.
Time for a nano-nap while Moeen drove to their hotel.
Later, after luxuriating in a wonderfully hot shower, she had dinner with the rest of the crew and the team from the BBC.
They were professional rivals but enjoyed hanging out together outside of work.
The camaraderie made up for missing out on home comforts, and she propped up the bar for longer than she’d planned.
It was gone ten by the time she fell into bed and caught up on her messages.
One from Simon: Are you def still on for Olivia’s birthday?
, a rude meme from Shona, and...a text from Nell. How unexpected. I recognise that shirt.
Mattie’s heart did an odd skip as she read it.
Had she secretly hoped that Nell would catch her wearing it and re-establish contact to challenge her about it?
Maybe her sneaky brain and hungry libido had been in collusion.
She grinned as she typed a response. Busted.
Having laundry crisis. Only clean thing left.
I’ll take it as a compliment that you think so highly of my shirt that you’d wear it on national TV.
Mattie laughed out loud. I’ll take it as a compliment that you’re watching me on national TV. Had you down as a BBC woman.
I am a BBC woman. Angie had it on.
An instant picture came to mind of Angie’s kitchen, warm and cosy and smelling of freshly baked cake. There’d be no piles of dirty clothes waiting to find their way into the washing machine. She was about to reply when her phone pinged again.
Anyway, I wasn’t watching you. I was watching Lucky the Scottie dog. He’s adorable.
Lucky had added a cute factor to a grim news day. So says you and half the nation begging to adopt him.
Looks like his name was apt after all. So, my shirt?
Mattie rolled over to get more comfy. She’d missed bantering with Nell.
It wasn’t just the banter, if she was honest. Nell’s delicious body and luscious curves were high on the list too.
Mattie had been so cranky when she’d got back to London after her holiday, and when Shona had made her smart-arse comment, “That hot police officer tire you out, did she?” Mattie had put her right.
But Shona had laughed in her face. “How many times have you dumped a date in favour of a story and barely given it a thought? Now you know how it tastes being on the other side.”
“Brutal but fair,” Mattie had said. Shona’s astute analysis had taken some of the sting out of her irritation.
Now Mattie’s fingers danced over the phone keyboard. I suppose you want your shirt back?
You suppose correctly. Freshly laundered.
Mattie smirked. You drive a hard bargain.
Ironed too.
Ha ha. Now you’re expecting way too much.
She glanced at said shirt hanging over the back of the chair.
At least she’d avoided flashing her breasts while wearing it.
Three bouncing dots on her screen showed that Nell was typing a message.
Mattie waited, but the dots disappeared, and no message arrived.
She frowned, realising she’d settled in, hoping for a longer chat than that.
At the cottage, they’d talked for hours.
Mostly, it’d been about the small stuff that made up everyday life, but Nell had confided in her about the bigger stuff too.
I liked mattering to her. Why had she only realised that now?
Because she was on her own in a hotel room yet again, or because she was in denial?
Mattie tossed the phone on the bed and glared at the floral print on the wall.
It was bland and generic, and she’d seen a variation of it on hundreds of other hotel walls.
Right now, it was annoying the hell out of her.
She’d play Tetris on her laptop until she bored herself to sleep.
Her phone buzzed, and she snatched it back off the bed. Nell again. She smiled.
Post it to me.
Clearly, the only reason for Nell reaching out was to get her shirt back. Mattie fired off an equally unemotive reply. Will do. It didn’t matter. Nell had been nothing in her life but a fun summer fling.
Mattie genuinely intended to launder and send the shirt back to Nell, but long hours at work and a family weekend to celebrate Olivia’s birthday meant she didn’t get around to it.
She hadn’t managed to get to the supermarket either, which was why she’d just ordered takeaway chicken noodles from her favourite Japanese restaurant.
Earbuds in, she leaned against the wall while she waited to collect the food.
The buzz of a text notification sounded above the 90s songs playlist she was listening to.
How’s my shirt?
Mattie smiled. The playful tone made her ridiculously hopeful she’d been wrong about the clothing being the sole reason Nell had reached out. In a queue for the washing machine.
Nell replied with a rolling eyes emoji.
It’s a very long queue.
Mad week?
Okay, so it seemed Nell was up for chatting this time. Mattie typed quickly. As always. Surprised I don’t have trench foot. Did your lovely garden get trashed in the storms?
My hebe and the raspberry canes look like they’ve been caught in the jet stream of a 747.
Mattie smirked as a memory of Nell feeding raspberries to her in bed came to mind. Flirting outrageously was one way to find out if Nell was only interested in retrieving her shirt. Shame. I rather liked your raspberries. Juicy and succulent.
Nell’s reply came quickly. Am I correct in presuming you have a one-track mind? Or are you genuinely interested in the state of my garden?
Mattie imagined the look on Nell’s face right now. Prim and austere or the impish grin? Both had the ability to make Mattie’s toes curl. Hebe was the Greek goddess of youth, wasn’t she?
My hebe is not looking remotely youthful. Are you flirting with me, Ms Elliott?
Mattie chuckled. Would you consider joint custody for the shirt?
No.
You give me no choice. Consider it kidnapped. Ransom only payable in person. Would Nell bite?
What’s the price?
Dinner, to make up for the one I cooked and you didn’t arrive for.
Mattie couldn’t help the dig, because she still remembered far too well the amount of pacing up and down that stupidly small cottage she’d done when Nell hadn’t turned up.
But being combative wasn’t the way to go with Nell. Though I know it wasn’t your fault.
Next Wednesday? The 18th?
Mattie’s eyes sprung wide in surprise. Nell was that eager?
I’ll be in London for a Police Federation conference. Could sneak out for a few hours in the evening.
Okay, so now Mattie’s day had perked up. Jon’s book launch party was on the 19th, so Mattie would be able to enjoy a few hours with Nell the day before. Was it going to double up as a booty call? She sure as hell hoped so.
“Order for Mattie.”
She looked up at the sound of her name being called and realised the waiter was holding out a bag of food for her. She beamed at him. Food and a date. Result.
By the time she got home, she was starving, so she didn’t bother to plate the noodles and scoffed them from the takeaway box instead.
One week until she met up with Nell again.
In what part of London was her conference being held?
If it was central, then Mattie could suggest they meet on the South Bank, somewhere a few minutes’ walk from her apartment.
If Nell was game, she’d bring her back here.
Just the thought of it made her pulse, and other things, zing.
Even though there was no chance of her forgetting the arrangement, she opened the diary on her phone to make a note of it and groaned.
She’d got it wrong. Jon’s book launch party was on the 18th.
She’d double-booked herself. Got plans for 18th. Can you make 19th instead?
Nell’s response came a few minutes later. Sorry, no. Conference dinner that evening. Can you fit me in around your plans?
Wasn’t that the million-dollar question?
She could but was it wise? She didn’t want to miss this opportunity to reconnect now it’d been offered.
She rang Shona, ostensibly about theatre tickets, but used the opportunity to outline her dilemma.
“If I cancel on Nell, I might not get another chance. But I can’t cancel on Jon, much as I’d like to. ”
“Don’t stress it,” said Shona. “Invite her as your plus-one.”
“And risk her witnessing me have an anxiety attack? You know how much I’m already freaking out about the party.
” Mattie shuddered. Why would anyone be excited about reliving the worst thing that’d ever happened to them dressed up as “Congratulations, you’re a hero?
” “Anyway, you and Lisa are my plus-ones.”
“You’re being pedantic, Mattie. You know Jon invited us separately.”
“I know, it’s just...” She flopped back against the sofa. It was going to be tight for Shona and Lisa to make it to the bookstore venue in the centre of town after work, and she knew they were only doing it to support her. More than anybody, they knew how hyper-stressful the event would be for her.
“Your other option is to book a table for dinner after the launch and tell Nell she’s welcome to join us,” said Shona. “If you’re fine and dandy, we’ll make an excuse and head home. If you’re not, we’ll hang around to support you.”
“She might think it’s weird, me inviting her to meet my friends.”
“Instead of rushing her back to your place for a booty call?” Shona laughed. “Be honest, you’ve been pining for her.”
“Lusting, yes. Pining, no.” Pining was different from wondering, on several occasions, how Nell was managing.
She’d been denied a proper chance to check-in with her because of the police operation.
Naturally, Mattie had followed developments in the case and knew that the suspect had been remanded in custody on attempted murder and arson charges, but it was Nell she’d been thinking about… Nell and that bastard ex of hers.
“Are you worried that she wants more than a booty call? Is that why this is throwing you?” Shona hummed. “Oh, wait, do you want more than a booty call? What happened in Vegas doesn’t want to stay in Vegas after all?”
“Vegas has nothing to do with anything.”
Shona laughed. “One day, my darling friend, you will tumble into besotted love like the rest of us. I can’t help but wonder if that day is fast approaching.”
“Shona. Stop it.” Mattie laughed, despite herself.
“So what do you want from her?” Shona asked quietly.
It was a good question. What did Mattie want it to be? “Friends with benefits?” She winced. Spoken aloud, that sounded tacky, which was something their time together hadn’t been.
“If she’s someone special, then she’d want to be there to support you,” said Shona. “That’s all I’m going to say. Take it or leave it.”
Mattie picked at what was left of her noodles as her mind jumped all over the place. Eventually, the desire to see Nell won out, and she put out the offer.
Dinner sounds good. I expect the kidnapped item to be returned in full health.
Mattie grinned. She’d better get on with laundry, starting with Nell’s shirt. Would she and Nell pick up from where they left off? Or had the distance between them and the change in circumstances caused a cooling-down? In six days, she’d find out.