What was she going to do, accuse him of sexual harassment? ‘So, how about a couple of extra hours tonight?’ Squeeze.
Plus, he didn’t miss a trick.
‘Um, the thing is, I’m supposed to be… doing something…’ Oh, it was no good; she was rubbish at lying under pressure. Caving in, Ellie said, ‘Well, OK, I’ll do an hour.’
Michael did the air-sucking thing. ‘We really need to catch up. Make it two and I’ll give you a lift home.’
She hesitated and glanced out of the window. The rain had been hammering down all day. There were engineering works on the Northern Line. And waiting at the bus stop would wreck her pink suede shoes. ‘OK, deal.’
Michael beamed. ‘You’re a great girl.’ Squeeeeeeeze.
The moment he’d left the office, Ellie clicked back on to her emails. Come on, get it over with, then she could put it out of her head.
Hi Todd,
I’m glad you’re well. Hope your trip back home goes OK. I’m doing all right. As well as can be expected, I suppose. Keeping very busy. Doing lots of overtime at the moment so not many evenings free. Maybe we could meet up when things are less hectic.
Love,
Ellie.
She pressed Send. There, done. When Todd received her brittle, stilted reply, he’d know she wasn’t ready to see him yet.
Todd wasn’t stupid; he wouldn’t hate her for it. He’d understand.
Chapter 8
At eight thirty, Michael pulled up outside the flat in Nevis Street. The rain, battering down on the roof of the Honda Civic, sounded like a never-ending drum roll. There wasn’t another soul in sight. Everyone else had too much sense to venture out in such a downpour.
The lift home was welcome, the conversation less so. As they’d made their way across the city, cocooned inside the lovingly valeted car that was his pride and joy, Michael had opened up and talked at length about his loneliness. Quite movingly, in fact. Since the breakup of his marriage he had had to watch his ex-wife move on, remarry, and give birth to twin girls. In contrast, his own confidence had nose-dived and his one and only attempt at socializing had resulted in a slow dance at a club on a friend’s stag night with a girl who had turned out to be a boy. ‘See, nobody else knows how I feel.’ His face was pale and earnest under the glare of the street light. ‘Except you, Ellie. We’re in the same boat, you and me. You understand what it’s like.’
Ellie unfastened her seat belt. She was fairly sure she hadn’t slow danced with a boy who was really a girl. ‘I know, but things’ll get better. You’ll meet someone else. Anyway, thanks for the lift—’
‘Don’t go!’ Michael’s arm shot out and he seized her hand. ‘Ellie, you’re on your own. So am I.’ Eugh, knuckles being stroked! ‘We deserve to be happy, don’t we? So how about being happy together? I’d never hurt you, I promise.’ He was hyperventilating and edging closer now. Stunned, Ellie realized his mouth was puckering up, homing in on hers like a heat-seeking missile while his other hand reached out to clasp her by the waist and—
Click.
Phew, saved by the seat belt. Lamentably out of practice when it came to making romantic advances, Michael had forgotten to take his off.
‘Michael, no. Stop it.’ His face fell as she gently pushed him away. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘No?’ Ellie saw him mentally adding this fresh rejection to all the others he’d suffered in his life.
‘Sorry. It’s not what I want. But it’s kind of you to… offer.’ Oh God, his chin was starting to wobble, please don’t say he was going to cry.
‘Fine, I know, I get the message.’ Michael sat back, his eyes swimming with tears. ‘Loud and clear. I’m not your type.’ He wiped his hand across his face and heaved a sigh. ‘I’m thirty-five years old and nobody’s ever fancied me. I don’t appear to be anyone’s type.’
You could feel sorry for someone, but not sorry enough to personally prove them wrong. Ellie said, ‘Oh, Michael, that’s not true. Your wife must have fancied you.’
He shook his head mournfully. ‘She said she only married me because I had a three-bedroomed house.’
***
‘Ugh, that’s so gross.’ Roo was paying a flying visit on her way out to a comedy night at O’Reilly’s bar in Camden. She shuddered dramatically. ‘What a creep.’
‘He’s not a creep, that’s the thing. He’s just sad and lonely.’ Ellie paused. ‘It was slightly gross.’