Claire sat in bed and started to compose a text, but then she threw the covers off and marched into her living room and sat down on the sofa to finish it. She couldn’t do that in bed any more, not even if she was only sending a message to Peggy. It reminded her too much of him … Nic.
She sighed and finished typing with her thumbs. Guess what? she said, aiming for chirpy and upbeat, and realised all she was doing was getting irritated at her own perkiness. Even so, she refused to backtrack. Doug asked me out to dinner.
Thankfully, Peggy was one of those people who got the shakes if she was parted from her phone for more than thirty seconds. Strange, for such a retro-crazy girl. What’s new? she shot back.
Claire took a deep breath. This time I said yes.
!!!!!!!!!!!
That made Claire smile. A heavy sort of lopsided smile, to be sure, but it was the first time she’d done that in days.
Details!!!!
She’d known that request would be coming and she was already halfway through typing in the time and place. Saturday night at The Wardesley.
Oooh, posh!
I know, she replied, then there was a pause. She guessed both of them were chewing this news over.
Don’t stay out too late, Peggy said. The taxi is coming to get us at five-thirty. A.M.!!!!
Claire nodded. She knew. It wasn’t the best timing, but she’d needed to squeeze this in before she went away.
Her phone stayed silent for another couple of minutes. She was starting to think Peggy must have dozed off, when another message came through. You’re really going to go?
Yes, she tapped in firmly. I think I need to.
It was time to move on.
*
Dominic had heard a car pulling up outside as he’d passed through his hallway and walked through his darkened living room to see who it was. Anything to distract him from the job of packing things into boxes. Despite his love of travel, he really, really hated moving. It reminded him he had too much stuff weighing him down.
He pushed a slat in his blind out of the way so he could see better.
Through the gap in the hedge for the garden path, he could see a sleek black car, not the usual sort of thing that parked down his road. That was surprising enough, but when Doug Martin got out of the driver’s side, he was even more shocked. He raised his hand to knock on the window and wave.
It was weird that his friend had chosen this moment to pay him an unplanned visit, but he’d be really glad of the distraction. However, as he saw Doug circle round the front of the car to the passenger side, something made him hesitate and his fist never met the glass.
Every cell in his bloodstream seemed to explode into fire when he saw who emerged from the car.
Claire.
For a second, all he could think of was how pleased he was to see her again, even from a distance, even if she didn’t know he was there, but sixty seconds later he wished he hadn’t seen what came next.
He saw Doug stand close as she emerged from the car. He saw the way his friend moved in, instead of stepping out of her way. And he saw the way Claire wound her arms around his neck and kissed him as if her life depended on it.
It was at that point he decided his eyeballs had taken enough abuse for one evening. He dropped the blind slat, pulled it closed and walked away, heading for his kitchen.
Unfortunately, it meant he was just passing his flat door as the outside door opened. He froze, knowing that Claire might see the movement past his glazed front door, knowing that she’d probably be happier if she didn’t know he’d popped back.
He waited as he listened to her make her way up the stairs. He had to glue himself to the wall of his hall with every bit of strength he had. That was what it took to stop himself rushing out there so he could see her again. Considering what he’d just seen in the road outside, that was a pretty pitiful state to be in.
Thankfully, he knew the perfect solution. He was intending to medicate with Jack Daniel’s straight from the bottle. It had always worked when women had been giving him trouble before.
He sloped through to his kitchen and rummaged in the cupboard until he found the square bottle he was looking for, then he unscrewed the cap, hung it lazily between his fingers and carried it back into the living room. There was nothing more to see behind the closed blinds. It was safe now.
He’d only planned to come back for a few nights while Claire was away, partly because he felt as if he’d been clogging up Pete and Ellen’s house for far too long, and partly because he knew he needed to do a bit of tidying if he was going to show it to a rental agent.
Well, that’s it, then, he thought as he slumped onto the sofa. He’d definitely made the right decision about this place.
He was too late. Claire obviously wasn’t sitting around moping. She was going out. Dating. He wanted to believe she was just making herself go through the motions like he was, and maybe he could have convinced himself of that – if it hadn’t been for that kiss.
He couldn’t even be furious with Doug. After all, as far as Dominic knew, the guy had no idea there’d been anything between him and Claire. He could hardly blame him for stepping in and proving himself the better man.
He put the bourbon bottle down and scrubbed his closed eyelids with the flat of his hand. This is what he’d been afraid of. That, even if he pulled this whole Doris Day trip off, he still wouldn’t be good enough for her. In his braver moments, he told himself he’d be fine, happy that he’d given it his best shot. In reality, he knew he’d be crushed.