"It's okay," Matt insisted, giving me half a smile.
I hesitated-and then the doorbell jangled and I had to get back out front.
It was probably just as well. It clearly wasn't a good moment to sound Matt out about where one might go to experiment with being gay-and anything else I might have felt the urge to say to him right now was probably best left unsaid.
Grown men definitely didn't offer to kiss each other better.
***
"Right," I said briskly, striding into the back room on the dot of one before Matt could disappear. "Where are we going for lunch?"
Matt turned to look at me sharply, a sort of "you what?" expression on his face. "Lunch?"
"Yes-you promised me New Forest pub lunches, last Wednesday-don't tell me you've forgotten?" I mentally crossed my fingers and prayed for some selective amnesia about my general git-ishness that day.
"Oh! No-no, right. Um. Well, there's the Oak out past Lyndhurst-fancy that?"
"Sounds great," I said heartily. "The Oak it is, then."
Matt looked a bit wary at the prospect, as well he might, based on my behaviour in the café last week. "Er, are we both going to drive?"
I nodded. "Probably best. We'll be going in opposite directions afterwards." Plus, he didn't want to be worrying about getting stranded if I stormed out in a snit again. "Have you got the postcode of the place for the SatNav?"
"Sorry-don't use one."
"Okay-directions?"
Matt looked worried. "Um, well, we start by going to Lyndhurst, but I'm not very good at giving directions-always seem to miss bits out. How about you follow me?"
That was a recipe for disaster if ever I heard one. "Fine," I said and made a mental note to Google the place on my phone as soon as I got to my car.
Of course, when I got to where I'd parked and tried it, I got the little red triangle telling me there was no service around here. Damn it. I'd just have to hope Matt remembered I was tailing him and didn't go shooting off at junctions, like a certain brother of mine I could name tended to do.
A horn tooted, and I looked around to see Matt waving at me from the window of his Ford Focus. I waved back, and we set off in our miniature convoy.
We took the A35 out towards Lyndhurst, where we drove down the one-way system past any number of perfectly nice-looking pubs and restaurants (my stomach grumbling loudly in protest) and then out the other side. It soon felt like we were in the forest proper, the roads bordered by woodland. I was so busy admiring the countryside and trying to remember what little I'd ever learned about identifying trees that I nearly missed it when Matt turned off onto an unmarked side road. There were a few houses here, mostly of the large, expensive variety, with big, well-kept gardens. I wondered if Steve's house was this imposing.
And then we were there. The lane opened out into a Y-shaped junction, and right in the middle was the Oak Inn. It was a solid, squarish place, painted white with black window frames, and looked at least a couple of centuries old. To the left, I could see a farm; to the right, a green where a couple of nut-brown ponies were grazing. It was all very idyllic, peaceful and quintessentially English. There was even an old-fashioned red telephone box outside the pub, although whether it was still functional or just there for decoration I couldn't have said. Did anyone ever use phone boxes these days in any case?
I parked the BMW next to Matt's battered old Ford Focus. Matt grinned as I got out. "All we need is a Rolls Royce on your other side and it'll be just like that Frost Report 'class' sketch, only with cars."
I laughed, half surprised he knew the sketch. Neither of us had been born when it had first been broadcast. It was a classic, though-they don't make 'em like that anymore. "Does that mean you look up to me?" I asked.
"Yeah, don't worry-I know my place."
"And apparently it's watching old black-and-white comedy sketches on YouTube," I teased. "Right, are we going to go in and eat before I faint with hunger? You've got me too used to proper food at lunchtimes."
"Yeah? You do realise I've been giving you the veggie options, don't you? Steve reckons that's what proper food eats."
To be honest, I hadn't even noticed the lack of meat. "Oh, well-I'll make up for it by having something carnivorous today. Unless that's a problem for you?" The last thing I wanted was to put Matt off his food.
"Nah, don't be daft-like I said, Steve eats meat all the time."
Okay, that was two mentions of Steve in two sentences. I hoped it wasn't going to be like that all through the meal or I could see myself rapidly losing my appetite or, in a worst case scenario, my lunch.
The Oak's interior was in keeping with the outside: bare wooden floors, low beams and wooden furniture. It had a cosy, relaxed feel, but I guessed it really came into its own in winter, when the old wood-burning stove could be lit. We walked up to the hop-festooned bar and ordered our lunch: local sausages with mustard mash and garden peas for me, while Matt just went for a ploughman's. I supposed he'd be cooking tonight in any case.