Chapter 26
When a nurse came around to tell the group that visiting hours were up, poor Timothy didn’t want them to go. But they promised to keep to the visiting roster to help break up the monotony.
‘You’re too kind,’ he said.
‘And I’ll be here every day, so long as you-know-who isn’t,’ Laila said, kissing him on the forehead.
‘Be nice to Gemma, won’t you?’
‘Duh.’
‘Do you need us to get anything for you?’ Gemma asked.
‘No, thank you. As soon as Jodie heard about me, she dropped by yesterday with some of my things.’
‘Well, hang in there, Timbo,’ Nick said.
‘I’ll try.’ He smiled wanly and raised a hand in farewell.
‘Timbo?’ Gemma repeated as they left the ward.
‘Don’t knock a nickname that’s meant as a term of endearment,’ Nick said. ‘It’s good for the soul.’
‘Whose soul?’ Gemma laughed.
‘The recipient’s, of course.’
At the lift to the carpark, they said farewell to Phyllida, and Gemma, Nick and Laila took the exit at the main entrance.
‘I’m going to meet a friend now,’ Laila said when they were outside.
Gemma had wondered why Laila was wearing a skirt so short it should have been shorts.
‘What friend?’ Gemma asked.
‘A friend-friend.’
Did that mean a friend-friend who was a best friend or a maybe-boyfriend? Gemma decided not to ask. It was probably more important that she knew where she was going. Laila disagreed.
‘You’re not my mum,’ she said.
‘I know I’m not. But you’re in my care.’
‘Fine. I’m going to the pub.’
‘You’re underage.’
‘My friend isn’t.’
‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’
‘Dunno. That’s my bus. Bye!’ Laila ran across the road as the bus approached.
Gemma hoped Laila had remembered to take a key. Maybe she should text her. Or maybe she shouldn’t. She sighed noisily.
Nick laughed. ‘Do you still want kids?’
‘How do you know I ever wanted them?’ Gemma turned to look at him.
‘You said so once.’
‘Did I?’ Gemma couldn’t remember.
‘I’m pretty sure you did. Hey, what are you doing now?
Do you want a drink?’ Before Gemma could clarify what sort of drink scenario he was contemplating, he quickly elaborated.
‘My editor wants me to write a companion piece on mudlarking to go with the feature story I’m doing on the archaeological dig.
I was wondering if I could ask you some questions. ’
‘Oh, right,’ Gemma said with obvious relief, because what if he’d had other ideas? She was far from ready for any of that.
‘Don’t worry.’ He laughed. ‘I wasn’t trying to ask you out. I’ve got a girlfriend, remember.’
‘That doesn’t stop some people.’
‘Well, I’m not like that. The thought just came to me and I’ve got nothing to go home to.’
‘What about your girlfriend?’
‘She’s away at a uni reunion. If we did it now, then I wouldn’t have to bother you during the week. Your work must be full-on and I doubt you’ll want me hassling you in the evening.’
Gemma thought about how she had nothing to rush home to either, especially with Laila going out. What’s more, she did love talking about mudlarking and couldn’t deny that Nick was fun to hang around with. ‘Sure. Why not?’ she said.
‘Excellent!’ Nick said. ‘There’s a great pub about five minutes away.’
They chatted on the way there and then found a table at the front whose window was filled with orange and pink summer flowers, so vibrant and flawless they didn’t look real.
‘I’m getting this,’ Nick said and, before Gemma could protest, he added, ‘I can claim it from the paper so don’t feel like you’re going to be indebted to me or anything.’
Gemma nodded and realised, as Nick went to the bar, that this was the first time she’d been out on her own with a guy since Adam had left.
Even though Nick had said this wasn’t a date, it was for professional purposes, it still felt strange.
It also brought el cabrón to mind. She’d decided not to contact him about anything to do with their break-up, knowing it would only be a matter of time before he got in touch with a checklist of what needed to be done.
Even if she now no longer wanted to be with him, she’d make him work for what he desired.
She knew that when the divorce was eventually finalised, she would still mourn the end of them as a unit and everything that came with it.
‘Here we go.’ Nick returned with their drinks and a packet of nuts. She quickly pushed Adam from her thoughts. ‘I don’t have a pen and paper with me so are you okay if I record this?’
‘That makes it sound serious.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s not a long piece. Only for a break-out box.’
‘There are far more experienced people you could be talking to, you know.’
‘It’s not about the experts,’ Nick said. ‘It’s about enthusiastic amateurs. Let’s begin with the mud in mudlarking. There’s more to it than meets the eye, isn’t there?’
It turned out Gemma knew more about mud than even she realised.
She told him about tidal mud, historical mud, dry shingle and sand.
The more she talked – and the more she drank – the more animated and talkative she became.
Soon, she noticed that Nick’s eyes had turned glassy, and he was fiddling with the as yet unopened packet of nuts.
‘Sorry, am I boring you?’ she said apologetically.
‘Not at all. It’s just I’ve got a six-hundred-word limit. Why don’t you tell me how you got started?’
Gemma opened her mouth to begin.
‘Succinctly, if you can,’ he interrupted. ‘Like an elevator pitch.’
Gemma’s explanation ended up being more like two lift rides, with stops on every floor. Nick then wanted to know about her favourite find, which was hard to narrow down, but she decided on the sixteenth-century louse comb she found last year, with mummified lice stuck to it.
‘Everyone had lice back in the day,’ she explained. ‘It was no big deal. If you were a knight in medieval times and wanted to impress a lady, you gave her a louse comb.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ He smiled.
She blushed. How silly! ‘Sorry, if I rabbited on. I’m turning into one of those lonely people who as soon as they get any opportunity, won’t stop talking.’
He laughed. Then, more seriously, he said, ‘I’m sure it’s been tough with your marriage and all that.’
Gemma nodded. ‘It was hard enough accepting it was over but then to find out that he and his thing-on-the-side are expecting a baby when we haven’t been separated long … That was a punch in the gut.’
‘Ouch,’ he said. ‘I guess the girlfriend’s not on the side anymore.’
‘She’s now the main course.’
Nick pulled a face in sympathy.
For the first time, she properly noticed Nick’s eyes. How attractive they were, like clear-cut pale-blue stones from a piece of Victorian jewellery. Fearing she’d blush again, she stood up. ‘Okay, well, I’d better be off. I suppose I should be the responsible guardian.’
‘Ha-ha, yes,’ Nick said. Then, ‘Actually, I’ve just had another idea. Why don’t we get a photo of you in all your mudlarking gear down by the Thames?’ He gestured in completely the wrong direction of the river.
‘A photo?’
‘I don’t mean now but with a professional. I think it would liven up the piece. I mean, it’s lively already, of course,’ Nick added hurriedly. ‘It’ll just make it livelier. Especially with your pink boots and yellow gloves.’
‘Really?’ Gemma asked, not because she was doubting the liveliness of her accessories, but whether it was a good idea for her to be photographed. She never liked being the centre of any sort of attention.
‘Absolutely. I’ll suggest it to my editor.’