When Donnie’s phone rang at seven fifteen, he grabbed it quickly. Was it work? His mum? He wasn’t sure he had time to chat.
But it was Will.
“Good morning,” Donnie said. He was proud of his casual tone, though he wondered if the smile could be heard in his voice.
“Am I too early to call?” Will sounded slightly breathless. Had he run all the way to the surgery or something? It didn’t open until ten, as far as Donnie knew. “How did the babysitting go? Are you feeling better this morning? You need to keep putting ointment on those grazes. Dammit, I didn’t think… are you even awake?”
“Of course I am. I’m usually leaving for work about now.”
“Oh my God, I’m sorry, I won’t keep you—”
“It’s fine,” Donnie said. He caught sight of himself in the oven door as he scooped up his keys. He was grinning like an idiot. “I have time to talk. Are you at work already? What’s happening in the surgery?”
Will gave an odd snorting noise. “All I’ve done is move two boxes across the room, realise I need to put up more bookshelves, and move the boxes back. I’m exhausted already. One might even say, disheartened.”
Donnie laughed. “I can help you with that if you like.” Was he being too forward?
“You can? That’d be great,” Will said, with something that sounded a lot like awe. “But, you told me yesterday how strict they are at work. You’d better get going now.”
Donnie swallowed his disappointment. “Okay.”
There was a soft exhalation on the line. “Damn. Here goes. Donnie, would you meet me for a drink tonight?”
“Oh,” Donnie said softly, savouring the invitation.
“I mean, only if you want to. Do you want to? Feel free to say no thanks. Yesterday was… it was unusual, at least for me. And I’d love to talk some more, get to know you better. I mean, I understand it may have just been a normal day for you. Nothing special.”
No way. Definitely special. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Great. And now I’ve rambled on and will probably make you late despite knowing better.” Will made a tutting sound.
Donnie chuckled. “It’s fine.”
There was a moment’s silence on the line when Donnie panicked his battery had gone flat or his finger had squashed the cancel button by mistake, or—
But Will chuckled too. He sounded more relaxed. “I’ll see you at seven. I mean, if that’s convenient for you—”
“It’s fine,” Donnie repeated with another laugh. “I’ll come around to the surgery then.”
Will hurried his last client out of the building at six forty-five, with indecent haste. To his delight, Donnie was already approaching the surgery. He was wearing jeans and a rather lurid, pineapple-print shirt, but carried it off well. Will knew that wouldn’t have been the case for him.
“I’m so pleased to see you.” Will brushed his hands down his white tunic with some embarrassment. “I just need to take this off and leave it on my broken coatstand for tomorrow.”
Donnie’s gaze darted over the uniform coat and his cheeks seemed to get pinker. Maybe there was even the hint of a murmured “Shame.”
Will suggested Bar de Bijou for a drink but Donnie vetoed that idea politely but quickly. Instead, Will drove them to a quiet pub beyond the housing estate where they got a good beer and a plate of ale-battered fish and chips each, and found a secluded corner table to sit. They spent a couple of hours chatting about Will’s day with the animals, about the problems he was having getting the right furniture for his flat, about how lots of people dropped in on the surgery on its first full day to take a look at him. And how half of them didn’t even have pets.
“People are friendly here, if you give them the chance,” Donnie said. “Just don’t let too many stop to chat or you won’t get anything done.”
Will laughed, relaxed and happy. How long had it been since he’d felt like this?
“How was the fish?” Donnie nodded at Will’s empty plate.
Will had barely resisted licking up the battered, vinegary crumbs. “It was great. I shouldn’t have eaten so much, though.” He’d ordered a sticky toffee pudding dessert as well. That was a potential disaster-in-waiting for him, but it had looked so good.
“I don’t think you need to worry about getting fat,” Donnie said, then blushed as if he realised he shouldn’t probably be making personal remarks like that. “So, do you have pets of your own? You were great with the animals in the surgery. My family has owned dogs and cats, or at least, some of my family, for some of the time. We’re a big, tangled group at the best of times. But there’s no point in me having any pet at the moment when I’m working all these hours, and live in a place no bigger than three shoeboxes joined together.”
Will started to laugh, then stopped when he realised he wasn’t sure if Donnie was joking or not. “I’d love a dog,” he said instead. “My apartment’s too small at the moment but when I can afford a house with a garden, and near parkland, I’ll consider getting one, or maybe two. My family has always had terriers, though my mother has a couple of collies she keeps at the neighbour’s farm. And my cousin breeds German Shepherds. I knew a guy at the golf club carried his Shih Tzu with him everywhere he goes.”
“You belong to a golf club?”
“Hardly play nowadays,” Will said briskly. Donnie’s expression was odd, but he was still smiling so things must be okay. And Will didn’t want to expand on why he no longer went to his golf club, his gym, his squash club… no, he was starting a new life, right?
“Sounds like your family is pretty grand,” Donnie said.
“Grand?” But Donnie rushed on before Will could mull that over.
“I was thinking I might one day get a small Corgi. Not that I’ve got aspirations to the royal family, though it’s great to see the love the Queen gives her dogs. She always looks so relaxed with them in the TV coverage, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so,” Will said, who’d never given it a moment’s thought before now. “They have a lot of health problems, actually. Corgis, not the royal family. Well, not necessarily.” What was he going on about? “I’m sorry, that’s shop talk, I can’t seem to switch off.”
“I don’t mind,” Donnie said gently. His gaze was fixed on Will, his eyes bright.
“What’s your family home like, Donnie? Where do you come from?”
“Me?” Donnie’s eyebrows shot up. “Born and bred right here, on the housing estate. Went to the local schools. Most of my lot still live around here, too. Mum and Dad have a two-up, three down house a half mile from the community centre, and still some of the younger ones at home with them.”
“How many?” Will asked, a little faintly.
“Oh, only a few. Though there are grandchildren now from my older sibs. Makes for a lively time at Christmas!”
“Yes, it must do.”
“Shambles of a garden,” Donnie continued cheerily. “Woodwork in dire need of new paint, and always a couple of windows broken, but I haven’t had time to go round and help for a while. There were at least four broken-down motorbikes on the front path, last I counted. A couple of my half-brothers are starting up their own business.”
Just the description made Will’s head whirl. He couldn’t take his eyes off Donnie’s mouth, smiling, sipping his beer, chattering so freely.
Donnie must have noticed because he stopped talking. He ran a hand slowly along his thigh, as if smoothing out a crease in his jeans. All it did was draw Will’s attention to Donnie’s lap. Oh God.
“Sorry,” he said. “For staring.”
Donnie lifted his hand and brushed his fingers along Will’s jaw.
“I didn’t get time to shave,” Will said in a rush.
“I like the feel,” Donnie said. “Don’t be sorry.”
“Actually,” Will said more softly. “I don’t think I’m sorry at all.” And in the shade of the potted plant beside the pub fireplace, they leaned closer and touched lips.