Page 4 of Textbook Romance

‘I don’t smoke, by the way,’ Jack tells me.

‘Yeah, I half guessed that. Jackers.’

‘Rhymes with crackers…’

‘And knackers…’ I say, laughing, as we perch on a wall, surrounded by fairy lights. ‘What do we do if she comes out here looking for you?’

‘Then I’m prepared to go up to that man there, ask him for a cigarette and actually start smoking for the evening,’ he tells me as I giggle in reply. ‘Thank you for the save, Zoe.’

Given he’s a tad merry, it’s nice that he’s remembered my name. ‘You’re welcome. I’m missing one of the only songs I actually wanted to dance to tonight, though.’

‘Groove Armada. Classic. I’m sorry.’

I smile. He knows the song. Most people know the song, but his age makes me assume that he wouldn’t. Like when I have to tell my children who Madonna is, and I feel like I’ve failed them in their pop cultural education. She was ICONIC, kids. She wore pointy bras! She danced with Jesus!

‘Well, you explained to me what a Mandarin is so we’re even.’

He smirks. ‘You mean a Mandalorian.’

I click my fingers. ‘Yes, that. Actually, I am sure my son watched that.’

‘How old is your son?’

‘Fifteen.’

He recoils in surprise. ‘Crumbs, you don’t look old enough.’

I laugh. I don’t know why. Maybe because that was a compliment and you get to a point where you don’t really hear those too often. I don’t know whether to thank him, but there is something in his face that makes him look worried he’s overstepped.

‘Was that cheesy?’

‘Kinda, but nice to hear. I think. Thank you…’ I say, clutching my hand to my chest. ‘I think we peaked earlier on with the helmet chat though.’

His laughing is a relief to me. He’s easy company but I don’t know how to say that without sounding weird.

‘You asked before, but I turned forty-three in March,’ I say, unsure why I feel the need to tell him this.

‘Pisces?’ he asks.

‘Yes – you don’t believe in all of that, do you?’

‘I only say that because I’m a Pisces, too.’ He holds his hand out for me to high-five it. I guess we are now bonded by astrology. ‘Did you know that fish don’t have eyelids?’

I cock my head to the side, chuckling. ‘Is this your regular chat-up line? Did you use that on Claudia?’

‘I’m not chatting you up,’ he says, shocked. ‘I’m conversing with an attractive woman about fish,’ he adds, his nostrils flaring. I’ll forget he called me attractive and that my cheeks are ablaze.

‘I didn’t know that fact, Jack. Then how do fish wink and flirt with other fish?’

‘I don’t know, Zoe. I will put in a call to David Attenborough about that.’

Handsome and funny. Twenty years ago, that would have been a dangerous combination. I don’t really understand this pseudo-flirting that’s happening here so I’m glad that my phone ringing interrupts the conversation. I look down to see it’s Lottie. ‘Excuse me, duty calls, I also have a daughter.’

He nods politely, putting his hands in his pockets whilst looking up at the sky and surrounding buildings. I like how his eyes are looking out for something.

‘Lottie? All good?’ I hear a light sobbing on the phone and my hackles immediately go up. ‘Lottie, are you alright?’

‘When are you coming home?’ she asks tearfully.

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