Page 6 of Hook, Line and Single

‘That’ll teach you to cheat on my best friend,’ I murmur as I turn to the next customer and plaster a smile on my face. ‘How can I help you today?’

3

My plan to fill Sam in on the drama at the shop is derailed the moment I walk into our living room and find that we have a guest. A man is sitting on the sofa, looking very much at home with his legs crossed and his arms spread wide, resting on the seat back. He looks vaguely familiar but it takes me a minute to place him. When I do, my mood plummets. I may not have seen him for ten years, but he’s every bit as unwelcome now as he would have been then.

‘Peter Stockley?’ I ask, just to make sure I’m not seeing things.

‘The one and only, although my friends call me Pete now,’ he replies with a smile, making no effort to get up. ‘Nice to see you, Ruby.’

‘This is a surprise. What brings you here?’

‘Yeah, it’s a funny story, as it happens. I’ve recently moved back in with Mum and Dad after the taxman, well, I don’t need to go into the details of that. The point is that I bumped into Sam in the supermarket after work and we got chatting about this and that, reminiscing about the old days, you know how it is. Anyway, one thing led to another and I ended up asking her out for a drink. She’s just getting ready.’

This doesn’t make any sense to me and I’m struggling to digest it.

‘So you just bumped into her quite by chance and, even though you haven’t seen her in, what, ten years, you instantly recognised each other and struck up a conversation?’

‘That’s pretty much the size of it, yeah.’

‘But Peter, Pete, whatever you’re calling yourself now, you barely spoke to her when we were at school. What you did say wasn’t very complimentary, from what I remember. Didn’t you used to call her “Ginger minge”?’

‘It was a term of affection,’ he counters smoothly.

‘I’m not sure Sam saw it that way.’

‘Well, it’s all water under the bridge, isn’t it? It was ten years ago, Rubes.’

‘It’s Ruby,’ I tell him firmly.

‘Didn’t I have a nickname for you too?’ he asks. ‘Hang on, it’ll come to me.’

He’s totally oblivious to my death stare as he tries to remember.

‘Got it!’ he exclaims. ‘Here comes Rubes, with her monster pubes. God, those days were funny, weren’t they? So much banter.’

‘That’s certainly one way of looking at it,’ I tell him coolly. ‘I’ll just go and check on Sam for you, see how she’s getting on.’

‘No worries,’ he says with a grin. ‘I know how you ladies like to look your best for the fellas.’

* * *

Sam is standing in front of her wardrobe in her knickers and bra, obviously trying to choose an outfit, when I burst into her room without knocking.

‘What the bloody hell is Peter “hands on” Stockley, the biggest pervert in our year, doing in our living room?’ I ask her incredulously. ‘Have you lost your mind?’

‘It is a bit weird, isn’t it,’ she agrees calmly. ‘But he gave off a very different vibe when I bumped into him. Much more grown up, I thought. His previous relationship ended badly, and I think it’s forced him to look at himself a bit. Anyway, he seemed nice, so when he asked me out for a drink, I decided to say yes. It’s not like I’ve had any luck with the apps, is it? Maybe meeting someone in real life is the way to go.’ She holds up two summer dresses. ‘Which do you think? The yellow or the blue?’

‘Blue. But Peter Stockley, Sam? Have you forgotten the crude nicknames he gave to pretty much every female in our year, or the way he’d position himself to try and see up our skirts when we were playing hockey? The way he’d “accidentally” rub up against us in the lunch queue, or stare down our tops when we were sitting down and he walked past? In fact, didn’t he drop a pencil into Verity Smythe’s cleavage once and try to retrieve it?’

‘Yeah, but all the boys were a bit like that, weren’t they? He was just a bit more “out there”. Anyway, he’s ten years older now, so it seems fair to give him a second chance. I’m only going for a drink with him, Ruby. I’m not marrying him.’

‘I know,’ I tell her, trying to sound more conciliatory. ‘But I also know you. You’ll be happily ignoring the fact that he appears to talk almost exclusively in clichés because you’ll be too busy looking for every positive, even the faintest spark. And then, when he starts groping you under the table?—’

‘He won’t grope me under the table. I told you, he’s changed.’

‘I bet he hasn’t,’ I murmur.

Her eyes narrow. ‘OK then, since you’re so sure, you’re on. What’s the stake?’

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