OK was not the term I’d have used to describe my feelings just then, but I was a long way from the cab rank in foul weather, and the temptation to cadge a lift home from him was strong.
Not really, I texted back. Tilda is devastated.
Is she with you now?
No, just left. I’m at bar on corner.
Come over. Need to see you.
Not sure I should.
I am. Come over or I’ll come there and get you.
I sighed, put my phone away and headed back to his apartment block.
Chapter Eight
He buzzed me in and I found his door ajar at the top of the stairs. He was lounging on the sofa, brooding over a whisky while dark, bluesy music played in the background.
‘Tom’s the right name for you,’ I said, standing in the doorway. ‘Tom cat. Alley cat.’
He looked up at me sullenly. ‘The way I remember it, you don’t mind an alley yourself.’
I looked at the tumbler in his hand. ‘Bang goes my plan to ask you for a lift home then,’ I said.
‘Why do you want a lift home?’
‘You mean you’d allow me to stay in your inner sanctum? Wow, I’m so honoured.’
‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’
‘You’ve never stayed with me after sex before, that’s what. I didn’t really think anything of it at the time, but now I’m wondering if it’s so you can get on to the next woman on your list.’
He dashed down his tumbler and stood up. I’d never seen him angry before, and I took a step back.
‘My list?’ he said. ‘I haven’t been with anyone else since I took you to that ridiculous goth bar. I haven’t wanted to be with anyone else. You can believe me or not, but it’s the truth.’
‘And yet Tilda seemed to think your little arrangement was still ongoing.’
His shoulders slackened and he looked away, wind visibly dropping from his sails.
‘I should have told her,’ he said quietly. ‘But…’ He looked back at me. ‘What would I have said? She’d have badgered me until she got the truth. About you.’
‘Perhaps she deserved the truth,’ I said.
‘You mean you’d have been happy for me to tell her we were seeing each other? Ella…’ He paused, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. ‘Are we seeing each other?’
‘You mean…now?’
‘I mean now, and I mean…for God’s sake, shut that bloody door and come and sit down.’
I was in two minds, but the wind was whistling out there now, the rain beating hard against the windows, so one of the minds soon backed down. I went to sit, not on the sofa but on an easy chair on the other side of the coffee table.
‘Drink?’ he said. ‘There’s red wine in the kitchen if you don’t fancy a tot.’
‘Actually, whisky might be nice,’ I said.
He poured me a tumbler and I took a moment to appreciate the cheerful warmth it sent through my still shivering frame.