Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The next day was Saturday. It was just Felicity and Andrea at the shelter and Felicity was very grateful for the quiet and the space and the lack of men hanging about the place with their manliness and their delicious smell and their general ability to mess with her head. It was almost boring, in fact. How things had changed! Just a few weeks ago she was seriously contemplating crazy cat lady spinsterhood and wondering if she should purchase a footbath and day robe but now… now what? A world of possibilities.
The memory of The Kiss danced in her head all morning as she – somewhat gingerly – went about the familiar routine with the animals and fussed over the new arrivals, and every so often her phone buzzed in her pocket with another message from Bex or Sophie trying to get some – any – juicy details. So far, she hadn’t replied, but she was enjoying mentally writing replies in her head as she cleaned out the cat cages. Never mind the awkward conversation about Adam, never mind the fact she’d gone arse over tit in front of James just when she was trying to be sexy; never mind that he clearly had his own complications going on; still, that kiss had to be a good sign, surely? On some level, he must… want me , she thought, and even just thinking those words made her tingle all over.
Every few minutes though, memories of the falling over situation would pop into her head unbidden, and – bingo – she was back to total mortification. Or her grazed knee would throb in an accusatory fashion, and after a few moments of shame she would have to remind it firmly that he had still kissed her.
As she moved gingerly around the cat nursery after coffee break, there was a chirrup from the table behind her. She looked around and to her surprise it was Mummy Gennaro who was giving her a little cat-greeting and rubbing along the side of the cage, demanding attention. Felicity was touched. That was the first time Gennie had ever made a noise of greeting that she was aware of, she had generally been very quiet since she arrived, other than that horrendous howling when they first caught her, of course. She gave her a little tickle through the bars and Gennie chirruped again and started purring at her touch. She couldn’t resist glancing over at Holly curled up in their basket and her heart constricted. Just a ball of fluff. So tiny still. She was getting stronger by the day, but Felicity knew it would be a long time before they could be sure she was well enough to rehome.
‘You two,’ she whispered, shaking her head fondly. ‘You were the ones who started it all, you know that?’
‘Started what?’ said Andrea, coming abruptly into the room with a mop and bucket for the floors.
Felicity blushed. ‘Started, well, making me feel better,’ she said hastily. Andrea’s eyes narrowed slightly but she didn’t question this response.
‘You have been more cheerful lately,’ she observed in her brisk way. ‘I’m glad.’
Andrea seemed about to say something else and then clearly thought better of it. Instead, she walked to the sink and began filling the bucket with soapy water.
‘So,’ she said, mock casually, over the sound of the tap. ‘How was the date?’
‘It wasn’t a date,’ said Felicity, quickly.
‘Whatever,’ said Andrea. ‘Whatever you two want to call it. How did it go?’
‘It was… good. I think.’
‘You think?’
‘Well, I had a great time. He took me to that Victorian place, you know, on the high street?’
Andrea turned the tap off and looked at her. ‘That place is seriously fancy. I thought you said it wasn’t a date?’
‘It wasn’t. I mean, I don’t think it was.’
‘It was,’ said Andrea. ‘A man doesn’t take a woman to a place like that because he wants to be friends. That was a move. Mark my words.’
She lifted down the bucket and began mopping the floor methodically.
‘Maybe,’ said Felicity.
‘Definitely. So… what’s the problem?’
‘He’s a lovely guy… as you know.’
‘But…?’
‘For starters – and please don’t tell anyone this – I fell over in front of him. And I do mean right in front of him. Like an absolute pillock.’
Andrea guffawed, just as Felicity knew she would.
‘Bloody hell,’ she said when she’d stopped laughing.
‘I know, right? Mortifying.’
‘I wish I’d seen that.’
‘I’m very glad you didn’t.’
Andrea stopped mopping and tried to look serious. ‘That wouldn’t put him off though, would it?’
Felicity couldn’t stop the smile that sprang to her lips. ‘No. No, I don’t think so, amazingly…’
‘So, what’s the problem?’
‘Well, I think he might have a girlfriend. Or at least, he’s not completely free.’
Andrea sniffed. ‘A man like that? I’m not surprised. There’s bound to be some woman hanging around hoping he’ll notice her. Doesn’t mean he’s not free though.’
‘I guess not. I hate not knowing. But I don’t want to know at the same time. Does that sound crazy?’
‘I get it. He’ll tell you in time, I’m sure. If you need to know.’
‘I hope you’re right. Oh, and as if all that wasn’t crap enough, let’s just say that Adam got in the way again.’
‘Bugger.’
‘That’s one way of putting it.’
‘What is it between you two, anyway? You and Adam I mean?’
‘Nothing. There’s nothing between us.’
‘Well then, don’t you think it’s time you made sure Adam knew that?’
Felicity nodded. Andrea was always bloody right.
Irrationally, she hoped Andrea might go back to the James topic, tried to think of ways she could steer things back around to him, but the conversation was clearly over. They worked merrily away in silence for the rest of the morning and when break time came, Felicity checked her phone and smiled to herself as she saw all the questions from Bex and Sophie that she knew would be there.
As she scrolled further down, the blood rushed to her ears when she saw Adam’s name.
Dinner, tonight? Please. I really need to talk to you about something.
She replied before she could think about it too much.
Busy tonight, sorry.
She knew she needed to see him. Knew she needed to sort things out. She had promised James after all, and she’d promised Andrea, too, in the end; but tonight was classic movie night on Netflix and, besides, two dates/non-dates in two days with two different men? After a kiss like that? It just wasn’t her style.
Two dates every few years, that was really more what she was used to.
His reply was immediate.
Coffee then?
Maybe next weekend?
That sounds like a cop out to me.
It is.
That shut him up for a bit.
When she’d returned to her flat the previous night she had stared at the ring for a long time. She had even contemplated putting it in the bin or putting it in the post to Adam or, hell, maybe just taking it to a pawn shop. God knows she could use the money, but something had made her hesitate and she just couldn’t put her finger on exactly why that was.
Her head was mostly full of James of course, how could it not be after that kiss? That evening? It had been magical. Mostly. He had been so considerate and kind when she told him her sad story. And even when she fell over. Cringe. So why couldn’t she just take him at face value? He was so kind and so gentle with the animals; he was volunteering at an animal shelter for goodness’ sake, didn’t that speak for itself? But, but, but (went her mind), was it really possible to find a man who was genuinely kind and also really sexy? There had to be a catch, didn’t there? He had to have some kind of terrible flaw. What was it going to be? Extra toes? A hairy back? A wife and three kids? Or worse, a deeply entrenched fear of commitment? She was petrified of finding out.
But, of course, there was a niggle there. A sense of unfinished business with Adam – annoying as that was. He had that way of getting under her skin but James was right. She had to get it sorted one way or another. Get it gone. Whatever it was. She hastily sent another text before she changed her mind.
Okay, fine. Next weekend. Just a coffee. I’m free Saturday.
This time his reply took a little longer and she sipped her drink and tried to stop herself picturing Adam at the other end of the line, looking at his diary perhaps – he was usually so busy, she thought, yet lately for some reason he seemed to have time on his hands – or trying to craft some kind of masterpiece response to make her go weak at the knees.
Her phone buzzed again.
11am Saturday. Costa Coffee in the town centre. See you then.
So, not a masterpiece then. Still, the scene was set.
Just coffee.
That was safe, right?
On Monday, she waited for James. She was working, of course, but she had one eye on the door, and it felt like a repeat of New Year’s Eve, except this time they had kissed and now the stakes seemed way higher. At break time, she caved and asked Andrea where he was.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said vaguely. ‘Something came up for him at work. He said he was very sorry, but he can’t help out this week after all.’ Then, presumably seeing Felicity’s face drop like a stone, she added, with fake breeziness, ‘He said he would try to be back next week. Don’t fret.’
‘I’m not fretting.’
‘Well good. So long as you’re not fretting.’
There was a hint of a smile as Andrea put her mug on the side and headed back out into the corridor, which for some reason Felicity found deeply irritating. She stared at it, Andrea’s stupid The Cats Rule: I Just Live Here mug, with its grubby handle and its tattoo of tea stains, for a long moment, the back of her neck prickling uncomfortably with a sudden heat.
Felicity hadn’t for one moment anticipated that he might not come. That wasn’t on the agenda. Truth be told, she hadn’t thought about much else all weekend except seeing him. Not after that amazing non-date. That kiss. Bloody hell, maybe the fall had put him off after all? Or the confession. Or Adam. Any one of those things could put someone off, to be fair. Unless he really did have a Kardashian-style girlfriend or a wife and three kids, and was just trying to find a way to let her down gently.
‘Felicity!’ Andrea called from somewhere in the building, and she tried to compose herself. It was time for lunchtime feeds, and she could hear the animals getting restless and, in some cases (Bobby Charlton), demanding their dinner quite vocally. She knew she should mentally park the James situation to think about later.
‘Coming,’ she shouted back, jumping down off the desk where she had been perching and resisting the temptation to take her phone out of her pocket and text him immediately.
She did, of course, text him as soon as she got home that night.
Act casual.
Hey. Just checking in as Andrea said something came up for you. Hope all okay, F x
James (an hour later – a whole hour!):
Hey yourself. Yes, sorry about that, hope it wasn’t too busy today, so you had time to miss me. PM x
Sorry, who is this?
Ha. Cheeky bugger.
They call me, Man. Penguin Man. And you are?
Lady. Crazy Cat Lady. At your service.
And then hastily, before she could regret it:
Fancy a drink?
In for a penny and all that.
James (three minutes later, as if three minutes didn’t feel like a bloody lifetime):
No can do this week, I’m afraid. And anyway, didn’t you have a little something to sort out?
Yes, damn your eyes. Okay, fine. But next week you are taking me out again.
Fine, but next time I’m kissing you properly. You have been warned.
Felicity (basically on fire at this point):
Fine.
Fine.
Goodnight then.
Goodnight yourself.
xx
XXX
Felicity (wondering how long this might go on for):
xx
??
??
Felicity: quickly turns phone off before this gets out of hand.
Felicity: lies back on the bed and wonders how she got herself into such a pickle… and also can’t wait for next week. What did he mean by ‘properly’? That was a proper kiss, wasn’t it? Oh God, what if he didn’t think that was a proper kiss?
Felicity: turns phone back on to check if he’s replied again. He hasn’t.
Felicity: realises she still doesn’t know his last name so she can’t practise her newly married signature in the back of her exercise book like she used to at school.
Felicity: realises she needs to sleep quite badly.
Felicity: sleeps and dreams she’s in a labyrinth with red velvet walls and handsome men round every corner and she doesn’t really want to find her way out.