Page 50 of The One That I Want

‘Are you all right?’ Ewan asks, half standing and reaching around to pat me firmly on the back.

I hold up one hand to signal I am. ‘Yes, you just took me by surprise.’

‘I didn’t mean to,’ he says, concern etching his features. He sits down.

I should have been prepared for him to bring up my lie from the other night but, stupidly, I’m not, and we’re quiet for a moment.

‘So, have you seen our spy friend?’ I ask, hoping to lighten the mood.

‘Actually, yes,’ he says, his face lighting up. ‘He was in earlier – ordered his usual.’

‘English breakfast with a shot of espresso?’

Ewan nods, grinning. ‘I’m determined to find out what he’s about. Maybe we should hire a private investigator or something.’

‘Or follow him!’ I suggest.

‘Would you be any good at that, do you think?’ he asks. ‘Spy craft?’

‘Looking like this?’ I ask with faux incredulity.

I’m not sure why I said that. Now I sound like I’m up myself.

Ewan just laughs. ‘You’re right. An attractive redhead would probably stand out too much. It would need to be me. Less obvious.’

‘Except the whole I’m-the-spitting-image-of-James-McAvoy thing.’

Oh, bollocks. I just keep digging myself in deeper. I eye my nearly empty coffee cup, wondering if it’s been spiked with whisky or something.

But Ewan only laughs harder, which sets me at ease.

‘What?’ I ask with a laugh. ‘That can’t be the first time you’ve heard that, surely?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, definitely not. In fact, my ex?—’

His eyes widen and he stops talking. He may also have stopped breathing, because he’s completely still, save for blinking.

‘Sorry,’ he says, recovering. ‘I shouldn’t have mentioned Sally— Well, shit, now I’ve done it again.’

‘Hey,’ I say gently. ‘I don’t mind.’ Actually, I’m pleased he feels comfortable enough to mention her to me. ‘And that’s what friends do, right? Talk about their lives?’ I add.

His expression sours slightly and his eyes drop to the table. There’s another beat of silence, then he meets my eyes, giving me a forced smile.

‘Quite right. So, as I was saying… Sally had this brilliant idea for my costume for a fancy-dress party.’

‘Oh, youdidn’t?’

‘I’m sorry to say, I did. Not the older Dr Xavier, the bald one, but the younger version, when he still had the use of his legs.’

‘And his hair,’ I add.

‘Yes, and his hair. Nothing wrong with going bald, but I wasn’t about to shave my head for a one-off event.’

‘Well, it’s such glorious hair,’ I say.

Greta!Yet another instance of speaking without thinking.

Ewan smooths his hands over his head. ‘Why, thank you.’

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