many more people needed to know my dead husband’s family had sided with his mistress? No more, I felt. And this was supposed to be a pleasant evening out.
It helped, though, getting that out of the way, and we glided through the first two courses. There were no smouldering looks over the Dover sole, no observations about my jewellery. Just nice, general chit-chat.
‘You’re not supposed to know we call her Saintly Sue, by the way,’ I chided him as I tucked into a heavenly chocolate mousse. ‘That’s a girly secret.’
‘Well, it’s not a very well kept one. And I got it from one of the girlies’ mouths too. Angie told me. She’s massively indiscreet, by the way, which is great,’ he grinned.
‘I know. Peggy calls her The Only Virgin In The Village.’ The wine had clearly got the better of me.
‘Who, Angie?’ He feigned astonishment.
‘No, idiot. Sue.’ I laughed.
‘Ah yes, so I gather. Angie told me that too. Apparently she’s Keeping Herself Nice For Her Husband, which is lovely, isn’t it?’ he said naughtily. ‘So very twenty-first century. And something of a challenge too.’
I burst out laughing, a sound I hadn’t heard for a while. Not a combust like that, anyway. ‘Fancy rising to it?’ I asked.
‘God, no.’ He shuddered. ‘Too pi for me. Massive knockers, of course,’ he added reflectively, and with mock regret.
I laughed. As I savoured the last of my mousse, licking my spoon, a thought crossed my mind. ‘How did you start playing the organ, Luke?’
He gave a knowing twinkle across the table. ‘You mean, what’s a likely lad like me doing with something as sensitive as a musical instrument? Tinkling the ivories?’
‘Well, no, I –’ I reddened.
He grinned. ‘It’s all right, everyone’s a bit fazed by it. My dad was a concert pianist. He taught me.’
‘Oh! How amazing.’
‘Yeah, amazing but not very lucrative. Only the really brilliant guys get to the Wigmore Hall. My dad was more Hackney town hall. When times got really tough he started playing in hotel foyers. South of France, mostly.’
‘Which is where your mum lives,’ I said in surprise. ‘Didn’t you say she lived in a hotel in Monte Carlo?’
‘Er, yes, although she sort of works there too. When Dad died she got a job on reception. Been there ever since.’
‘Oh. Right.’
As I drank my coffee it occurred to me that Luke put quite a gloss on what hadn’t been the easiest of rides. Pulling the wool, some might say. I wondered if the sister at Vogue was on reception too. But I decided I rather liked him for bigging it up; for not turning his life into a hard-luck story, an excuse to hang failure on.
When we said goodnight in the car park, there was just a chaste kiss on the cheek, no lingering, and no expectation of coffee back at my place either. Although he did express a desire to see me again a few days hence.
‘Would you have supper with me again, Poppy? Or maybe we could go and see a film. Avatar is supposed to be good.’
It seemed to me that twice in one week might reasonably be construed as Going Out With. Did I want that? I mean, the occasional one-off supper was nice, but did I want to go out with Luke? Fun though he was?
‘That sounds lovely, but can I ring you? I haven’t got my diary and obviously I need to get a sitter.’
‘Or I could ring you?’
‘You could,’ I hedged, ‘but I’m usually so preoccupied with the kids. I’ll ring you.’
And there we left it. Off he went to his car, rather a smart BMW, I noticed, casting me a last smile over his shoulder, and off I went to mine.
Interesting, I thought, as I drove home; that blatant attempt, not to seduce me, but to romance me. It was rather refreshing. No pressure. It smacked of doing things by the book. Dinner, a chaste kiss, then another date, then perhaps coffee, then another date, and only then, perhaps, a grapple on the sofa. And he’d made me laugh too. Even though I hadn’t been in the mood, he’d brought me out of myself. Added to which there was that rather sweet admission during supper, which had disarmed me. Why then, hadn’t I agreed to another date? Thought twice?
Because you think too much, I told myself wearily as I pulled up outside my house a few minutes later. I sat there a moment. Jennie would agree. Jennie, who’d be disappointed in