Page 23 of Resisting Mr Black

“You paint?” he asks. “That’s very good.”

The oil painting shows a fishing boat in the middle of a churning grey sea at night with moonlight dancing off the crests of the waves. I always thought it looked magical and mysterious because the painting was set at night and there’s a glow from the lamp of the boat amidst the darkness, like a beacon of hope.

“No. Dad painted it. He adored Turner, and we used to have loads of his prints all over the house. He used to hang his pieces up as well when he was in the mood. After he died Mum took them all down and I kept this one. It was my favourite.” He’s watching me intently, listening to my story. “Anyway, I would have been really upset if it got damaged, but it’s fine.”

“You should hang it here.” He nods at the bare wall in front of us. “Give your dad pride of place in the hallway. He’d like that.”

I smile, touched at the thought, because he’s right, Dad would like that.

My phone beeps, signalling the arrival of a text. I pull it out of my pocket. It’s Lucy.

Don’t forget drinky poos tonight. I’ll come to yours for 7 and we’ll go from there. x

“Shit.”

He looks at the phone in my hand. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I forgot I’m going out with Lucy for drinks tonight.” She knows nothing about my new apartment, and I know she’s going to freak out when I tell her.

A crease line appears on his forehead. “Where?”

“Oh, I’m not sure yet. A few bars I’m guessing. It’s up to Lucy. It’s her pre-hen-do, and we’re running out of weekends for us to go out just the two of us before her big day, so we’ve had to opt for a school night.”

He nods slowly as if digesting the information. “Which bars?” he asks after an age.

“Don’t know. Why?” I’m curious to know why he’s taken such an active interest in my social life.

“You should be careful. There are some dangerous guys out there,” he replies staring at the blank wall in front of us. “And some clubs are plain dodgy.”

“I’ll just make sure we go to the okay ones,” I reply feeling as if I need to assure him without quite knowing why. We’ll end up wherever Lucy wants.

He doesn’t look convinced but changes the subject. “Do you need any help unpacking your stuff?”

“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. You’ve helped me enough. I’m sorry if I was a bit off yesterday when you turned up at mine. It was just… a surprise, that’s all.” I suddenly feel awkward and I don’t want to take up any more of his time. “You’ve helped me get this place. Thank you.” I look down at Dad’s painting and smile at the weird twist of fate. “This time last week I hadn’t even met you.”

His eyes sparkle as he holds my gaze. “People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Which do you think applies to us?”

My mind spins at the depth of the question. Before I can answer, my phone begins to ring again; “Lucy calling” flashes on the screen.

He looks at the phone. “I’ve got a bit of business I need to attend to. I’ll leave you to your phone call and your unpacking.” He bobs his head and retreats down the hall.

Six

Iscrabble to answer the door, a blusher brush poised in my hand.

“I’ve nearly finished my make-up, then I’m done,” I assure before Lucy can start moaning. But my friend hasn’t seen me and I don’t think she’s heard me either, as she pushes past and walks into the apartment in a daze, clutching a bottle of Prosecco to her chest.

“Are you kidding me?” she gasps as she totters across the polished floors in her black strappy heels and into the living area. Her black sequined dress sparkles beneath the low lights as she pivots slowly admiring the apartment. “Fuck. King. Hell.”

“I still can’t quite believe it,” I admit. Part of me feels like I’m on holiday and I’ll have to go home soon.

“This is amazing,” she shrieks, waggling the bottle of bubbly in her hand. “And I’ve brought just the thing to celebrate.”

“The glasses are in the cupboard,” I call over my shoulder and disappear into the bedroom to put the finishing touches to my make-up. Once I’m satisfied, I smooth my straightened hair and tug down the skirt of my black bodycon dress. I step into my black stilettos and walk back into the kitchen to find Lucy perched on one of the black kitchen stools, poring over her phone. Two mugs stand beside her on the counter.

“I couldn’t find any glasses so these will have to do.” She puts down her phone and picks up her mug with a sly smile. “Here’s to your fab new apartment.”

I smile and curl my fingers around the Mr Happy mug.

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