‘Yes.’ I try to tug her onward, but she makes herself a dead weight. ‘It was nice to see you.’ I smile tightly at Miller, tugging harder. ‘Come on, Nan.’
‘Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?’ Miller asks with a sense of urgency to his tone that probably only I can detect.
I stop trying to remove my static nan and flash him a questioning look. He’s trying to get his remaining time allowance, and he’s using my grandmother to his advantage, the conniving twat. ‘No, thank you.’ I can feel Nan’s shocked stare drilling into me.
‘Livy, you must take the gentleman up on his invitation to dinner,’ Nan claims incredulously. ‘It’s very kind of him to offer.’
‘I don’t often,’ Miller interjects quietly, like I should be grateful. It only increases my irritation as I fight to recall why I vowed not to see him again. It’s hard when my wayward mind is presenting me with a stream of images of our na**d bodies entwined and a replay of the comforting words exchanged.
‘See!’ Nan screeches in my ear, making me wince. The plum has gone and desperation has set in. She plasters a stupid smile on her face as she returns to Miller. ‘She’d love to.’
‘No, I wouldn’t, but thank you.’ I try to pull my annoying grandmother away from my heart’s annoying nemesis, but the stubborn old bat refuses to budge. ‘Come on,’ I plead.
‘I would be delighted if you would reconsider.’ Miller’s soft rasp halts my battle with Nan’s motionless form, and I hear her sigh dreamily, gazing at the annoyingly handsome man who’s cornered me. But then her dreamy gaze turns into slight confusion and I follow her stare to see what’s caused her sudden change in expression. There’s a well-manicured hand resting on Miller’s shoulder with a dusky-pink silk tie suspended from it, cascading down Miller’s chest.
‘This one will go perfectly.’ The silky-smooth voice is familiar. I don’t need to see the stunning face to confirm who that hand belongs to, so I lift my gaze from the silk tie to Miller’s eyes instead. His jaw is tight, his tall body still. ‘What do you think?’ she asks.
‘It’s fine,’ Miller replies quietly, keeping his eyes on me.
Nan is silent, I’m silent, and Miller is saying very little, but then the woman steps out from behind him, stroking the tie and the silence is broken. ‘What do you think?’ she asks Nan, who nods, not giving the tie a glance, instead keeping her eyes on this beautiful woman who has appeared from nowhere. ‘And you?’ She directs her question at me, toying with the diamond-encrusted cross that’s always suspended from her delicate neck. I can see a threatening look through the layers of expensive make-up. She’s marking her territory. She’s no business associate.
‘It’s lovely,’ I whisper, dropping the basket and deciding to abandon my nan in favour of retreat. I’m not being held to ransom in front of my old grandmother and I’m not being subjected to looks of inferiority by that perfect woman. Every corner I turn, he’s there. This is hopeless.
I weave my numb body through the various departments until I break free of the confinements of the colossal store and drag in some fresh air, resting my back against the wall outside. I’m angry, sad and irritated. I’m a jumbled bag of mixed emotions and confusing thoughts. My heart and my head have never disagreed or battled so furiously.
Until now.
Hyde Park sorts me out. I sit on the grass with a sandwich and a can of Coke and watch the world go by for a few hours. I think about how lucky the people wandering past me are to have such a beautiful place to roam. Then I count at least twenty different breeds of dog in less than twenty minutes and think how lucky they are to have such a wonderful stomping ground. Children are squealing, mothers are chatting and laughing, and runners are prancing by. I feel better, like something familiar and desired has successfully eliminated something unfamiliar and undesired.
Undesired, undesired . . . completely desired.
I sigh and unfold my seated body from the ground, swinging my satchel onto my shoulder and throwing my rubbish in the litter bin.
Then I take the familiar journey home.
Nan’s frantic by the time I fall through the front door. Really frantic. I feel guilty, even if I should actually be feeling rather mad with her. ‘Oh my goodness!’ She dives on me, not giving me the chance to dump my bag by the coat stand in the hall. ‘Livy, I’ve been so worried. It’s seven o’clock!’
I embrace her hold, the guilt taking a firmer grip. ‘I’m twenty-four years old,’ I sigh.
‘Don’t disappear on me, Olivia. My heart can’t take it.’
Now guilt is crippling me. ‘I had a picnic in the park.’
‘But you just left!’ She separates us and holds me at a distance. ‘It was incredibly rude, Livy.’ I can see from her sudden annoyance that her earlier panic has completely diminished.
‘I didn’t want to have dinner with him.’
‘Why not? He seemed like such a gentleman.’
I resist snorting my disgust. She wouldn’t think that if she knew the ins and outs. ‘He was with another woman.’
‘She’s a business associate!’ she gushes, almost excited to clear up the misunderstanding. ‘Nice woman.’
I cannot believe she bought that. She’s too cute. Business associates don’t shop for silk ties together. ‘Can we leave it there?’ I drop my bag and skulk past her, making my way to the kitchen, getting a waft of something delicious as I enter. ‘What are you cooking?’ I ask, finding George at the table. ‘Hi, George.’ I sit next to him.
‘Don’t turn your mobile telephone off, Livy,’ he scolds quietly. ‘I’ve endured hours of Josephine repeatedly dialling and cursing in between cooking supper.’
‘What is it?’ I ask again.
‘Beef Wellington,’ Nan chirps up as she follows behind me. ‘With dauphinoise potatoes and steamed baby carrots.’
I throw a confused look at George, but he just shrugs and picks up his paper. ‘Beef Wellington?’ I ask.
‘That’s right.’ She doesn’t give my questioning tone the attention it deserves. What happened to stew and dumplings or a chicken roast? ‘Thought I’d try something new. I hope you’re hungry.’