Before We Met(76)

‘Then afterwards we’ll come back and regroup. I’ll think about what I’m going to do next, but no hurry – I don’t want to rush into anything. I want to spend some proper time here, with you, and maybe that would be a good opportunity to think about . . .’ He trailed off again. A week ago he’d have said it, a baby, but that was too much for tonight when, though neither of them would admit it, everything between them was tentative and not to be taken for granted.

‘We also need to have a conversation about your car.’

‘My car? Oh – no.’ Hannah shook her head. ‘No way.’

He smiled. ‘Come on. How old is it, anyway?’

‘Fifteen,’ she admitted. ‘But I don’t need to swap it. I don’t want to, either – we’re friends. That’s why I held on to it and kept it at Mum’s all the time I was in America.’

‘It doesn’t make economic sense, though, does it? You’ll spend more on repairs than it’s actually worth. And I worry about how safe it is when you’re doing those long drives up to Malvern. When the deal comes through, let me get you a new one. If you’re really wedded to VWs, you could have another one, brand new. It doesn’t have to be anything big – I know that’s not you.’

She shook her head. ‘I’m not wedded to VWs, I just like the one I have. When it bites the dust I’ll get a new car but until then . . .’

‘Until then I’ll have a wife who goes about in an old rust bucket?’ Mark rolled his eyes in cartoonish despair and went back to his cooking. She watched as he grated a piece of ginger, head bent over the little hand-held grater, the muscles in his forearms standing proud. It was always a big production when he cooked: joints of meat from the specialist butcher, unusual herbs and spices, esoteric liqueurs. Usually she loved to watch, finding his intense man-at-work concentration quite sexy, but this evening she looked at his dark head, the furrow between his eyebrows, and found herself wondering what Nick looked like now. Did they still look as much alike or had Nick’s face hardened along with his character? What did it do to you, ten years in a maximum-security prison?

Are you telling me Nick could be violent?

She took a gulp of wine and looked away. The brightness of the kitchen blocked any view of the yard but the people who lived in the house behind had switched on their outside wall lights and the fine upper branches of the ornamental cherry tree stood out like veins against the sky. They must have guests, Hannah thought, with a pang at the idea of other people, noise, conviviality. There was noise here, stirring and pouring and chopping, the Dylan Mark had put on the kitchen stereo, but it patched the silence like a plaster. She would have preferred to go out, sit in a restaurant surrounded with bustle and conversation, but he’d wanted to cook, to make a visible effort for her, she knew, rather than just hand over a card.

‘Where would you like to go?’ he asked. ‘Anywhere. You’ve talked about Brazil before. Perhaps we could fly to Rio and go on from there.’

‘Brazil – wow.’ She tried to direct her thoughts to exotic locations: he was trying so hard; the least she could do was make an effort. But could you really think about holidays when in two days’ time . . .? And – she quickly turned away from that thought – there was her own job situation to consider.

‘I forgot to tell you,’ she said, ‘Penrose Price called this morning before you got back. I’m through to the last round and they’ve invited us – you and me – to have dinner with the MD and his wife next week. Tuesday.’

She watched a smile spread across Mark’s face. ‘Seriously? That’s phenomenal.’ He put the knife down and came around the counter to kiss her. ‘Good for you. See, I told you it was just a matter of time.’

‘It’s only an interview,’ she said. ‘And I’ve been here before, remember? I’ve had three final interviews and nothing’s come of any of them.’

‘This feels different, though, doesn’t it, Penrose Price? And dinner: they wouldn’t be doing that if there were many candidates left in the running. There’ll be two or three at most.’ He grinned and gave her another kiss. ‘You know, they’ve probably already decided and just want to check me out, make sure I’m socially acceptable.’ He went back to the counter, opened a pack of fresh rosemary and lifted it out on to the board. ‘God, that’s great news – good for you.’

‘So you can do Tuesday night?’

‘If there was anything else in the diary, it’s cancelled.’