Page 71 of The Do-Over

‘He’s just a man. Remind me, what does Thea mean in Greek?’

‘Goddess,’ I tell him automatically.

‘Exactly. Go in there and channel your inner goddess.’

‘What are you going to do?’ I ask.

‘I will wait here for exactly thirty minutes. If you don’t come out within that time, I’ll assume all is well and go home. I take it you still have my address?’

‘Of course. Why?’

‘For the wedding invitation. I’ll be online this afternoon, researching velvet suits.’

Instinctively, I lean across and place a kiss on his cheek.

‘You’re the best, has anyone ever told you that?’

‘I know,’ he says simply. ‘Now, go and meet your fate. Good luck.’

I reach for the handle, open the door and climb out of the car. I’m trying to take his advice and channel my inner goddess as I walk across to the unit, but my legs feel shaky so it’s not coming across very convincingly. More worryingly, I still have absolutely no idea what I’m going to say when I get in there.

31

They’re obviously having a tea break or something, I realise as I step inside. There’s no visible activity on the traction engine, but I can hear voices engaged in good-natured conversation coming from the other side of it. A sudden bark of laughter that I recognise as coming from George reaches me and I’m completely caught off guard by the way it affects me. I have spent the last week tearing myself apart over what happened in the barn and poring over his frankly cowardly letter, and he’s just sitting here, laughing and chatting easily with his mates as if nothing was wrong? I don’t think so. As I listen to a little more of the conversation, with George sounding like he genuinely doesn’t have a care in the world, my hackles rise. As his laughter fills the space again, I start to feel a very different conversation unfolding than the one I’ve been trying to plan.

‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ I say sweetly as I round the engine and spot them. They’re sitting in camp chairs round a collapsible table, on which four large mugs and a packet of chocolate digestives are resting. They all start in surprise, none more so than George, who looks both terrified and guilty, like a dog who’s been caught stealing food. I’m curious to find thatmy normal response to his physique is completely absent. He doesn’t look sexy this morning; he looks cowed, and that doesn’t do anything to help my rapidly diminishing opinion of him.

‘George,’ I continue in the same saccharine voice. ‘I wonder if I might borrow you for a minute or two.’

‘Umm…’ He glances round at his friends, obviously unsure what to do. Oh, come on, for goodness’ sake, I think. Show some grit.

‘It’s OK. I won’t bite. Not hard, anyway,’ I tell him. ‘I just think there are a couple of things we need to talk about.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ He gets to his feet and leads me towards the office. There’s no enthusiasm in his gait though; he looks like a naughty schoolchild being sent to see the headmaster. When we get there, I close the door behind me and lean against it. He’s standing in front of me, looking at the floor.

‘So, umm, what did you want to talk about?’ he asks eventually, still not meeting my gaze.

‘Look at me,’ I command him, and his eyes slowly come up to meet mine. I study him for a moment. His face is a picture of misery, and he just looks downtrodden. I’m reminded of the scene inThe Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy and her companions finally make it to see the great wizard, only to discover that he’s a very ordinary man behind a curtain. I feel a bit like that; there’s suddenly no magic to George any more and I can feel the last vestiges of my attraction to him draining away, like a balloon with a slow leak.

‘Did you read my letter?’ he asks when the silence becomes oppressive. ‘I think I covered everything in there.’

‘I did,’ I tell him coolly. ‘I just have one question.’

‘Of course. Ask anything you want.’

‘I kissed you. You kissed me back. Tell me if I’m wrong, but you seemed into it.’

He stares at me. ‘Is that the question?’

‘No. The question is this. If I’m right and you were into it, why did you immediately run away?’

‘I explained that. It was unethical, unprofessional. I took advantage.’

‘Yeah. The problem with that is that it contains an unpleasant assumption on your part.’

‘Which is?’

‘That I had no agency or free will in the situation.’

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