Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
‘We bumped into her in a coffee shop.’
‘We?’
‘Yes, me and Ava. Of course, my wife didn’t recognise her until Sarah introduced herself.’ My mouth twists, as does John’s. ‘You didn’t tell her about Ava’s accident?’
‘Not my news to tell. You know that woman. Give her an inch . . .’
I laugh under my breath. Sometimes you didn’t even have to give her an inch. I gave her nothing, and she took a mile. Hundreds of them, in fact. ‘Well, she knows something is amiss, so expect to be questioned.’
John tosses his glasses on the table, annoyed. ‘And what do you want me to tell her?’
‘To stay away,’ I reply. ‘I don’t care what else you tell her, but enforce that bit.’
John nods, and then looks past my shoulder, prompting me to look, too. Ava is approaching, her limp now worse. Guilt racks me. ‘You’d better go,’ John says.
‘Anyone would think you’re trying to get rid of me.’ I push myself up from the seat and turn towards Ava when she makes it to us. ‘I’m sorry, baby. I’m just coming.’
‘How are you doing, girl?’ John asks.
She doesn’t answer, just moves closer to my side and looks up at me, searching for . . . I don’t know. Then it occurs to me. Of course. ‘This is John,’ I say, motioning to his massive body in the small metal chair. ‘He’s my oldest friend. He works at the club.’
‘Nice to meet you.’ Her words are quiet, tinged with an awkwardness that John doesn’t miss, and I feel her flinch beside me. I look down and search her face. She looks a bit spaced out. And tired. So tired.
‘I need to get Ava home.’ I wrap an arm around her shoulders and start leading her away. ‘Everything ticking over okay at the club?’
‘S’all good.’ He slips his shades back on, and I realise I never did ask what he’s doing sitting outside a café on his own. And with no drink?
I’m about to ask when a woman comes breezing out of the café with a tray, heading straight towards my friend. John shoots to his feet, pulling out the chair opposite him.
‘Oh, thank you,’ the woman gushes, flashing him a bright smile as she takes her seat. ‘They didn’t have lemon cake, so I got you scones.’ Her hair is a vivid shade of pink and pinned up wildly, her skirt long and floaty, her chunky-knit cardigan oversized. She looks perhaps early sixties, her face bright and cheery. I now notice the café, too. It’s quaint, the tables old, distressed wood, the chairs industrial. And a little tin plant pot sits in the centre of the table with heather bursting out of the top. How romantic.
‘Thank you.’ John smiles, too, a big gold-toothed smile. What is this? Is what I think is happening actually happening? I take in the scene: him . . . and a woman. I have never, not ever, seen the big bloke with a lady. Ever.
I can feel the big kid in me rising to the surface, my need to tease him strong. He’ll probably slug me one on the chin, but . . .
‘Jesse?’ Ava tugs on my arm. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ I tell her, guiding her back towards the table. ‘But I’m probably going to be launched into orbit by John’s fist.’ My smile’s so big it hurts.
‘Why?’
‘Because he’s with a woman.’
‘That’s not his wife?’
‘Oh no.’ I laugh. ‘He’s never had one of those. No woman, in fact. Hey, big man,’ I say chirpily when we arrive by their table.
He grunts, reaching for his wraparounds and pulling them from his face again, giving me clear sight of his eyes and indication of his mood: prickly.
‘You going to introduce us to your friend?’ I cast my friendly, way-over-the-top smile onto his companion. ‘I’m Jesse.’ I extend my hand, and she’s quick to stand and take it.
‘Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you.’ She shakes enthusiastically, her spare hand cupping our joined hands. ‘I’m Elsie.’
‘What a pleasure, Elsie. Any friend of John’s is a friend of mine. This is my wife, Ava.’ Releasing Elsie’s hand, I pull Ava in some more as she smiles a small smile at Elsie.
‘Nice to meet you.’
The sympathetic look on Elsie’s face tells me she knows Ava’s situation. ‘And you, Ava.’
‘So how did you two meet?’ I ask, getting a glimpse of John’s gold tooth on his snarl. I’ve never seen the big guy so hostile. And nervous. It’s a novelty.
‘Oh.’ Elsie giggles and takes her seat, reaching across the table and patting John’s hand. The big man is shrinking in his chair, and that just ramps up my curiosity. ‘I swore I’d never go on one of those dating website things, but I’m glad my friend talked me into it, else I would never have met John.’