Maddy was impressed. Very impressed. She had eaten in Indian restaurants and balti houses before, what student hadn’t? But this one seemed different. A bit more upmarket. A bit flash. No, not flash. Sophisticated.
She looked round the place, tried to see it more rationally. It wasn’t that upmarket, not fine dining, but it was certainly a lot higher up the scale than the normal student eateries she went to with her friends. Chain pizza restaurants in town and cheap baltis in Selly Oak and Ladypool Road.
This place had understated decor. Tables decorated with Indian fabrics. Comfortable contemporary leather dining chairs. Traditional wall hangings and shelved metal antiques sat alongside suffused modernist lighting panels. It was, to her, a lot more than just a local eatery in Moseley village.
And they were drinking cocktails. Cocktails. She had had cocktails before, of course. But that was on party nights with the girls, celebrating end of term or Christmas or exams or something. But never as a prelude to dinner. And never with someone else buying. No, correct that: a handsome young man buying.
Ben sat opposite her, smiling. He had scrubbed up well. Good hair. Nice shirt. Eyes locked on hers. Unflinching, unmoving. A long red drink in front of him. She stifled a giggle. He looked like an elegant vampire.
He held up his glass. Cranberry chiller, that was what he had asked for. He waited. She realised she was supposed to raise hers too. She did so.
‘Here’s to…’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘What?’
She gave a small shrug and immediately regretted it. She felt so silly and girlie doing it. But that was how he was making her feel. She was trying to be cool and distant, sophisticated and grown up, but it wasn’t working.
‘Don’t know,’ she said. ‘Friends?’ Us. That was what she wanted to say. Us. But she didn’t want to sound presumptuous. Forward.
‘Us?’ he said.
She giggled again. ‘You read my mind.’
They clinked glasses. Drank. The French martini, all pineapple and raspberry and vanilla, was very sweet. Deceptively sweet, in fact. She realised her glass was nearly empty.
‘Another?’
She didn’t have time to answer. Ben was already calling the waiter over, asking for another drink for her. She noticed his was barely touched.
He leaned forward. Still looking at her. Took her hand in his. It was warm, there was strength in it. Smiling all the time.
‘Thank you for the flowers,’ she said.
He looked away as if shy or embarrassed, but turned quickly back to her. ‘Were they OK? Did you like them?’
She nodded. ‘They were… lovely.’ She felt his grip on her hand tighten. His smile increase in wattage. ‘They were the first… No one’s ever bought me flowers before. Not like that.’
‘I can’t believe that.’
‘It’s true, honestly. They were…’ she felt a thrill of pleasure run through her at the thought, ‘lovely.’
Her drink arrived. She took a sip. Then a longer one. Just as good as the first. She blinked. ‘I’ll have to be careful,’ she said. Wouldn’t want to end up drunk.’
Another raised eyebrow. ‘Why not?’
She opened her mouth to answer, but no words, no argument came. She smiled to herself. Why not indeed?
The food arrived. Ben had ordered for her. She wasn’t confident in working her way round an Indian menu. She told him what strength she liked things to be – not too spicy – what she liked to eat, and left the rest up to him. They – or rather Ben – had decided to share a starter. ‘It’s all so good here,’ he had said. ‘You should try a bit of everything.’ Maddy had agreed.
A big plate of lamb, chicken, kebabs and other things she didn’t know the names of was placed on the table between them.
‘Use your fingers,’ said Ben. ‘I won’t mind.’ She did so. They both did. The meat was some of the finest she had ever tasted.
‘OK?’ he asked.
She nodded. Definitely OK. He smiled once more. His taste, his opinion validated.
Maddy took another mouthful of martini. She felt happy. Properly happy, for the first time in ages. She couldn’t believe how quickly her life had changed. She felt giddy, almost, like she was walking on a cloud.
She reached over for her napkin and caught sight of her wrist. She had worn a long-sleeved top to cover up the damage, and as it rode up slightly she became aware of it for the first time that evening. Ben had made her forget. Wow, she thought. She couldn’t believe she was the same girl. In the space of twenty-four hours her life had been transformed.
They finished the starters. Her glass was empty once more.
‘No, I’d better…’
Too late. Ben had already called for another refill.
‘So,’ he said, once the drink had arrived and Maddy had started on it, ‘how are you?’
‘Fine,’ she said, aware that she was beaming like an idiot. She didn’t care. Ben, the restaurant, the drink was all making her feel lightheaded. Pleasantly so.
‘I’m glad it’s me you’re here with,’ he said.
‘So am I.’
‘And not Hugo Gwilym.’
And suddenly, at the mention of his name, she didn’t feel lightheaded any more.