39. Nigel
NIGEL
Nigel arranged the final layer of potato slices in the dish and sprinkled the top with grated nutmeg. He opened the oven door.
Helen looked up from her laptop. ‘How long’s that going to take?’
‘Why not?’ Helen closed the laptop. ‘I’ve done enough for today. You have got this timed to the minute.’
He grinned. ‘I’m actually 5 minutes behind schedule.’
Not that it mattered. He picked up the wine bottle. Just the right temperature. Helen presented him with two glasses. ‘Thank you.’
She looked at the bottle. ‘A white Rioja. I thought you’d bring red.’
‘You prefer white, don’t you? The wine merchant said this one would work with steak.’
‘You went to the wine merchant’s?’
‘Yes. You sound surprised.’
‘I’m usually a supermarket wine drinker. You’re spoiling me.’
Because I like spoiling you. But Nigel decided against saying that out loud.
He handed her a glass.
‘To a successful meal and a happy future,’ she said, clinking it against his.
‘I’ll drink to that.’
‘Shall we watch the sunset?’ she suggested.
‘Isn’t it too chilly?’
‘Not if we stay indoors. We can sit on Dad’s sofa. That’s where I usually start my evenings.’
She led him into the living room. ‘You sit there,’ she said, indicating the far end of the sofa.
‘Why have you kept it at this weird angle? I always wondered why he positioned it like this.’
‘There was method in his madness. If you lie lengthways and stick something under your head, you get a perfect view of the cove. Try it.’ She handed him a couple of cushions.
Nigel kicked off his shoes and lay down. The window framed the sunset perfectly. The colours in the sky reflected in the sea and the jagged cliffs on one side - it was like looking at a painting. He smiled. ‘I get it now. But you can’t enjoy the sunset with me hogging the sofa.’
‘I can if you sit up.’
He moved back into an upright position so she could sit next to him. They both turned their heads to look out of the window and watch the scenery change as the sun sank lower in the sky.
‘I see why you decided to keep this place,’ he said.
‘It’s my little haven from the ills of the world.’
‘We all need one of those.’
Helen turned to smile at him. ‘It will all work out in the end, you know. I felt terrible at times when Angus and I were divorcing, but now it’s behind me, I’m glad we called it a day.’
He knew she was right, but that hadn’t been what he’d been worrying about. He’d been talking himself out of leaning over and kissing her because being with Helen felt so normal, natural, easy. All the things that being with Madison had rarely ever been.
But if he kissed Helen, things wouldn’t be normal between them again for a long time - about twenty-five years based on previous experience.
‘I’d better check on those potatoes. I’m sure I was meant to put them on the middle shelf.’