The taxi picked them up at 7pm. He'd refused to tell her where they were going, only that he was wearing a shirt and jacket, no tie. She'd opted for a blue floral vintage-style tea dress and heels, reasonably sure that between the grey jacket and jewellery she could make it work wherever they ended up. He'd been so upset about his knee giving out and had not been able to do much as his mood took a turn downward. And so whilst she wasn't wholly comfortable not being in control, she was determined not to let anything get in the way of their evening, desperately wanting the Robbie back that she'd been happily getting used to of late.
They held hands in the taxi, he subconsciously stroking the back of her hand with his thumb, oblivious to the effect this tiny action was having on her. She smiled to herself as she watched the fields flashing past them, the occasional glimpse of the lake beyond. She didn't know how she could convince him of how she felt, that none of the things that worried him worried her, this afternoon being the perfect example. She'd always preferred her men a little older, but besides that she had no doubt in her mind that he was the one for her. Yes, it was early days but she'd been on too many dates and suffered enough failed attempts at relationships to know this felt absolutely right. And besides, was it really early days when you'd already been in love for so long?
They pulled up at a smart looking Georgian building. He paid the driver and hobbled round to open the door for her. She'd waited, knowing this was exactly what he was going to do. It was a bit cheesy but secretly she loved it. Entering the restaurant, they were ushered to their outdoor table, positioned perfectly overlooking the lake. The bare bulb lights strung up across the patio reflected in the water, the quiet sound of lapping water combined with the soft melody from a speaker hidden somewhere and the hushed voices of other diners, made for a romantic setting.
Wine ordered and starters on their way, she remarked, "This place reminds of the restaurant down by the river in Oxford. You know, the one we didn't eat at the weekend of the Glyndebourne trip that never was."
He groaned, "Don't remind me. The night of the disastrous fish and chip supper."
She bulked slightly at this and frowned, "Disastrous? What do you mean?"
"What do you mean 'what do I mean'? We have this lovely weekend planned, only for it to be cancelled thanks to work. You politely agree to dinner with me and all I can manage is a bench and wooden cutlery? It's a wonder you spoke to me again, isn't it?"
Her head dropped, her mind racing. She'd always thought he'd felt like her, sensed how everything had been different after that night, and she'd assumed that they were just too shy, or modest, or just plain stuck somehow to do anything about it. "I don't remember it like that," she said gently, raising her eyes to meet him. He seemed surprised, "You don't?" She shook her head, wondering why she suddenly felt so nervous.
"Vegetable tempura for you, madam," she started as a plate appeared in front of her. "And the smoked salmon for you, Sir. Enjoy."
"Go on, what were you going to say?" he urged, the waiter having left.
"It doesn't matter. Mmm, this looks great, doesn't it?" She smiled reassuringly at him, and picked up her knife and fork. The moment had passed.
Arthur sat at the bar. "Quiet in here tonight, Albie. Something I said?" Albert laughed. 'Quiz night at the village hall." Arthur nodded, recalling something about it from Rosie.
"Remember that couple who were in here the other night, staying at the cottage?" Albert nodded. "Had to rescue them today. He'd done his knee in and couldn't drive. Got me thinking though."
Albert opened the dishwasher nestled under the bar, stepping back from the steam cloud. He reached for a cloth and started drying glasses, refilling the shelves above his head. "Come on, Arthur, don't start that again. How long are you going to torture yourself?" Arthur picked up his beer and took a sip. He knew Albert was right but he couldn't give it up. That cottage was his birthright, he just needed the proof.
As Arthur brooded into his pint, Bellows passed the pub, heading up the hill to the village hall, his wife on his arm was chattering about the latest instalment of a friend's relationship. They'd both been at the wedding where the whole doomed affair had cemented itself. He'd watched the groom eyeing up the best man's date. Not exactly an auspicious start, he'd thought at the time. He refrained from sharing this with his wife now. She loved a bit of drama and who was he to deny her a bit of fun.
His day at the market had gone better than expected. Selling eggs was never going to make his fortune but it paid for the next weeks' groceries so he couldn't complain. Since being back he was struggling to make ends meet, that was for sure. So much money was due from that man's estate but having already shelled out most of his savings in solicitors fees, he'd hit a dead end. Something had to give, but what? He knew he couldn't carry on much longer like this.
The awkward moment of earlier long since forgotten, the evening had been lovely, fuelled by the gorgeous setting and one too many glasses of wine as they recounted tales from the past.
She'd taken a sip of water just at the wrong moment and sprayed it over him, laughing hysterically as he recalled falling head first off a jetty trying to rescue Pat's remote controlled boat that had got stuck underneath. She'd leaned over and tried to pat him down with a napkin, but in the process knocked over his glass of water straight into his lap, only serving to make her laugh uncontrollably once again. Now dripping wet, he'd tried to be cross but she looked so beautiful, first attempting to hide her giggles, and then giving in to them completely and throwing her head back, that he just couldn't be. The other diners had looked over, wondering how anything could be quite so amusing, but for most the sight of a couple enjoying each other just brought a smile to their faces.
Coffee and mints served, he moved his chair next to hers, both now looking out over the water. The air had chilled and she shivered slightly despite her jacket. Part of her didn't want to speak, to break the spell of the evening, but something inside compelled her to. "Robbie, I need to tell you something." Her voice sounded so serious that he shifted round slightly in his chair to see her, but she was staring out over the lake, focused on something not quite in view.
"I was interrupted earlier and I wasn't going to say anything, but I think you need to know." She paused, there was that nervousness again, fluttering in her tummy. She pushed it down. If she'd misremembered the moment then so be it. "The Glynnebourne weekend? Not going after all the plans we'd made, even keeping it quiet from the office gossips? Really, I didn't mind too much, that's the job after all."
She took his hand, but kept her eyes on the lake for fear his eyes would only confirm what she now suspected, that it had all been one sided after all. "You say the evening was a disaster, but I can't let you think that. You made my heart skip a beat, the way you looked at me that evening. It changed everything. And nothing. But I've never forgotten it."
He was very still. He did that, she'd noticed, when he was thinking, taking something in. She'd also noticed how unnerving and reassuring she found it in equal measure. He reached out and touched her cheek, his gentleness forcing her to look at him. "I did feel it, Laura, that moment. I was scared to admit it for a long time, but it was there." He leaned over and brought her in close, his arms wrapped around her. She could feel her heart quicken as she slipped her arms around him and hung on, never wanting to let go.
