‘You’ve not aged a bit,’ he assures me. ‘Coffee?’
‘Oh, I’ll …’ I reach for my purse, but he waves me off with a frown.
‘My treat. Please, I insist. A flat white?’
‘A … Sorry, I beg your pardon?’
‘Would you like a flat white?’
‘I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,’ I tell him.
He roars with laughter. ‘Oh, I think you are going to be very good for me, Eileen Cotton.’
I really don’t see what’s funny, but I smile anyway, because he’s very handsome when he laughs. And the rest of the time, too. At first the make-up is a little disconcerting – his skin looks rather strange, being all one colour like that. But I seem to be getting used to it.
‘A flat white is a type of coffee,’ Tod explains, waving down a waiter with one expert hand. ‘Trust me, you’ll love it.’
‘I’ll give it a go, then,’ I say, and Tod orders the drinks. He’s much less intimidating than I expected, and I feel myself relaxing as he jokes with the waiter, smoothing his hair back from his forehead as he speaks.
‘Now,’ Tod says, turning his attention to me. He flashes an extremely charming smile. ‘As far as I’m concerned, we’re too old to mess about. I’m going to put my cards out on the table.’
‘Oh, right,’ I say. ‘Well, that’s good?’
‘I’m not looking for a serious relationship,’ Tod says. ‘I was married once, to a truly wonderful woman, and they were the happiest years of my life – I have no interest in trying to replicate them because they cannot be replicated.’
‘Oh,’ I say, rather moved, despite his perfunctory tone. ‘Well, that’s very romantic, actually.’
Tod laughs again. ‘What I’m looking for, Eileen, is a bit of fun.’
‘A bit of fun?’ I narrow my eyes slightly. ‘In the interests of putting our cards out …’ I tap the table between us. ‘Could you be a little more specific?’
He reaches to take my hand across the table. ‘May I?’ he says quietly.
‘Yes,’ I say, though I’m not quite sure what I’m agreeing to.
He turns my hand over and presses his thumb very gently to the soft skin between my wrist and my palm, and begins to stroke in slow, languid circles.
My breath quickens.
‘Specifically,’ he says, ‘I would like us to enjoy good coffee, and good food, and good wine, and then I would like us to go to bed together.’
‘To … bed,’ I repeat, dry-mouthed. ‘Together.’
He inclines his head. ‘A casual fling, as it were. Non-exclusive. Purely sensual. Just for the duration of your stay in London, and then we say goodbye with no regrets.’ He slowly lets go of my hand. ‘How does that sound, Eileen?’
‘That … sounds …’ I clear my throat, rubbing at my tingling palm with the other hand. I’m tingling everywhere, in fact. I’m surprised you can’t hear me creaking like a radiator that’s just warming up. ‘That sounds fun,’ I finish, and I bite my lip to keep from smiling.
*
‘The date was very nice,’ I tell Leena, in my firmest end-of-discussion voice. I settle myself on the sofa, tucking a cushion behind my back. ‘How was your first Neighbourhood Watch meeting?’
‘Oh, all fine, all fine,’ Leena says. ‘Come on, you have to tell me more about this mystery man!’
‘A lady never tells,’ I say. ‘And Marian? How is she getting on?’
‘Grandma! Did you sleep with him?’
‘I beg your pardon! No! What sort of question is that to ask your grandmother?’ I splutter.
‘Well, when people say “a lady never tells”, that’s usually what they mean,’ Leena says, sounding amused. ‘Are you really not going to tell me anything about this Tod?’
‘No, I don’t think I am,’ I decide.
I told Fitz all about it, but I swore him to secrecy, and he said he wouldn’t pass anything on to Leena. I just don’t much want to discuss my new ‘casual fling’ with my granddaughter.
‘Well,’ Leena says grudgingly, ‘I suppose I did tell you to go and do something for yourself.’ She pauses. ‘Grandma … Can I ask you something?’
‘Of course.’
‘Has anything happened to Mum? Anything you’ve not told me?’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask carefully.
‘She mentioned “episodes”.’
I close my eyes. ‘Ah.’
‘What happened?’
‘She’s just had a few … wobbles.’
‘Wobbles like getting tearful on the bus? Or wobbles like she had to go to the doctor?’
‘The second one, love.’
‘How could you not tell me that?’
‘I did keep telling you she was struggling, Leena.’
‘Yeah, but I thought you meant – I thought she was – I didn’t realise she’d been having breakdowns.’
‘I thought she’d tell you herself, if she wanted to. I didn’t want to interfere.’
‘And when you left me here to look after Mum, you didn’t think it was worth mentioning that she might have one of these “episodes” at any moment? What happens? Do I need to check in on her more? How bad are we talking? What did the doctor say?’
I rub the bridge of my nose. ‘Dr Piotr gave her some tablets a couple of months ago.’
‘Antidepressants?’
‘I think so.’
‘Is she taking them?’
‘I think so.’
‘OK. All right. God, Grandma. It’s – I appreciate you not wanting to interfere, but … I wish you’d told me.’
‘Would it have changed how you felt? Would you have come home sooner?’
There’s a long silence. ‘I like to think it would, but I – I know I’ve been … a bit weird about Mum lately. But I want things to be better. Bee says I’m not myself, and she’s right, and I think it’s partly that, you know, the distance between me and Mum, how angry she makes me … I want to fix that. For me, as well as for her.’
I smile slightly. And, well, if interfering is allowed, now …
‘She wants that too, love. She misses you desperately.’
Leena sniffs. There’s a moment’s silence, and then: ‘Got to go, Grandma – there’s a man calling on your mobile to talk to me about falconry.’
‘Pardon?’ I say, but she’s already gone.
I sigh. Now I’m worrying about Marian more than ever.
I’m just about to turn off Leena’s telephone when a message pops up at the top of the screen. It’s from someone called Ceci. I’m sure I remember Leena mentioning her. Wasn’t she the awful, catty one from work?
Hey Leena! Just wanted to let you know the Upgo project is going really well in your absence, going from strength to strength really, in case you were worrying about it! Let me know if you’re going to be down in London anytime soon, Cx
I frown. Leena doesn’t need to be reminded about that Upgo project, and she’s not given Ceci her new phone number, which means she didn’t want to hear from her while she was away. I seem to remember Leena describing this woman as ‘eighty per cent leg, twenty per cent bad intentions’; something tells me she doesn’t have Leena’s best interests at heart. I tsk and close the message.