Page 17 of Fundamentals in Flirting

I gave a small, feeble wave as they strode over to us.

“Hello, darling, what are you doing here?” my mother asked. Her voice sounded sickly sweet but I knew it was dripping in accusation because she hated to be caught on the back foot in any situation. She gave methe look, the one that had withered the soul right out of me as a child, the one she always gave when she was displeased with me, as she so often was.

“I-I-I…”

Shit, why do I always become such a stuttering mess around her?

“I asked her to dinner, as a thank you for treating an injured cat I found,” Teddy said, stepping forwards and getting a comedy double-take from his whole family at that little revelation. “I’m Ted Fraser. We went to school together.”

“Oh.” My mother studied him carefully, eyes briefly flitting back to the rest of the beautiful people that had now assumed a protective circle at his back.

“Yes, and my family happened to drop by unexpectedly. My brother, Henry, and his fiancée, Clara. My parents, Fiona and Jim Fraser.” Teddy did the introductions swiftly and politely and then looked expectantly at me.

I stared back at him over my shoulder, and he raised his eyebrows, clearly wanting me to do something. But I was out of ideas, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, dry and immobile. In reality, I was unable to see my way out of this horror show, wishing that someone would just put me out of my misery. What I wouldn’t do right now for an injection of phenobarbital to end things quickly, a kindness that we offered to suffering animals. And I was definitely experiencing some extreme suffering right now.

Teddy coughed and angled his head at my parents and finally my one functioning brain cell kicked in.

“Sorry, these are my parents, Linea and Peter Havens.”

When all the handshaking was done, a weird, cold-eyed stand-off began. My mother had a lot of questions burning a hole in her skull, obviously. I knew my father was trying to work out if he could get any business out of the men in the room and that he was also itching for a drink. Jim and Fiona were glancing awkwardly around the pub, while Henry and Clara were wrapped up in gazing at each other. Teddy had stepped closer, his body just a hair’s breadth from mine, warmth radiating from him. My fingers twitched involuntarily, accidentally brushing his, but he didn’t flinch or pull away. He kept them close – it was the briefest of touches, barely a touch at all really, yet it was there, like lightning up my arm.

Finally Fiona broke the silence and addressed my parents. “Are you planning to eat? We’re all having dinner and I’m sure we could squeeze two more on the end.”

No. No. No.

This was turning into an absolute disaster. My head whipped around to look pleadingly at my mother, but she was already smiling and wandering away with Fiona, her lithe figure disappearing into the crowd. My father and Jim Fraser, who had struck up a conversation and were laughing good-naturedly, also headed for the bar. Henry and Clara were still drowning in each other’s eyes. Teddy seemed like a beaten man, and I just looked at the floor, dread and the inescapable feeling of doom swamping my whole being.

When the mothers came back with Bob, the cheerful bearded barman, and ushered us to the table, I sat heavily, sandwiched between my own mother and Teddy.

“If you’re going on a date with such an attractive man, Hannah, the least you can do is dress up a little,” my mother hissed at me, her mouth so pouty with disapproval that I couldn’t help but compare it with a cat’s anus. A snigger escaped from me and her eyes narrowed to slits, looking with disdain at my polo shirt and jeans, before sighing dramatically at her lost cause of a daughter.

“I’m on call tonight, Mum, and this is not a date,” I muttered back.

“Well it should be. His mother says he’s an architect, so a good match for you.”

“What does his profession have to do with anything?”

“Everything, Hannah, everything, especially since you blew it with Jonathan who was aprofessor,” she murmured, enunciating “professor” as if she were announcing that he was the actual King of the Universe, and not a slimy two-timing sleazebag.

But my mother was big on social standing. She was an inveterate climber of the society ladder and a complete and utter hypocrite. My grandparents had come over from Sweden in the 1960s, liberal and hippy, living a nomadic life and selling their Viking-inspired art and jewellery to get by. My mother had been home-schooled and given an amazingly free and wonderful childhood – my grandparents were avid nature lovers, with keen, intelligent minds. But she shunned all this, and while I was away at university had placed my ailingmormorin a home when mymorfardied, her once free spirit encased in a soulless pink bedroom with a view of a car park, her memories and her mind slowly rotting, until she too had died, alone, a few months later.

“So, are you going to tell us about this cat of yours, Ted?” Henry asked from across the table, making Teddy shift uncomfortably in his seat next to me.

“Oh yes, tell us about your cat!” Clara agreed excitedly.

“It’s not my cat. She’s a stray and is at Hannah’s place now.” Teddy shifted a glance in my direction, before taking a sip of his drink. “She’s excellent with animals.”

“She’s a vet,” my dad said loudly from across the table, so that everyone turned to look at him, as he nodded and necked the red wine. “Always been excellent with animals. Really understands what makes them tick.”

My mother hissed a low sound, the universal family signal to shut up and not embarrass her. She knew, as did I, where this would go, and for once I was in complete and utter agreement with her. But my father was oblivious, pouring more wine into his glass and smiling around at the rapt attention of the Frasers.

“A vet. How marvellous,” Mrs Fraser said with a genuine smile.

“Oh yes, she’s extraordinarily in tune with animals, particularly horses.” My dad was already in his element.

“Peter Havens.” My mother said, bringing forth the warning use of his full name, a deadly calm to her voice. It was the voice that still, to this day, struck fear into my heart, even if it wasn’tmyfull name she was uttering.

“Very,veryin tune…” he said, followed by a wink and a smirk and another mouthful of wine.

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