Page 104 of The Winter of Second Chances
Gemma looked around at the walking-mummies and mouthed,It is a date!and received several conspiratorial winks in return. Annie sighed loudly and started grinding coffee for the next order but she couldn’t suppress her smile.
Later that evening, whilst being eyed suspiciously by Mrs Tiggy-Winkle, Annie got ready for her not-a-date date with John. She had settled on a tie-waisted shirt dress in baby wale cord; navy blue with a ditsy print of little red flowers with yellow middles over it. She teamed it with dark red knitted tights and brown knee-high boots. She noticed, as she applied make-up in the bathroom mirror, that her roots needed doing; little twists of grey stood out in relief against her conker-brown hair. She brushed her hair and it shone in the light, greys and all, and bounced and kinked at the sides. With a steady hand Annie painted a swish of liquid eyeliner and managed to achieve a near perfect flick thanks to a helpful tutorial on YouTube. Her hand hovered, holding the lipstick, while she debated whether or not to go the whole hog, and then, spurred on by Tiggs’s disapproving glare, she applied a coat of bright red lip stain called Cherry Passion and smacked her lips together, pouting in the mirror. Mrs Tiggy-Winkle left the bathroom in disgust with her nose and tail in the air.
It wasn’t overly busy in the bar area of The Captain’s Bounty but the restaurant end was full. Annie was acutely aware that this was her second time having dinner with a man in this pub. She wouldn’t like people to think she was sampling the local men as well as the produce. She reminded herself that this wasn’t a date. They were just two friends – were they friends now? – having dinner together. If you took into consideration that Annie was a potential buyer for his aunt’s property, you could even describe it as a business meal; she wondered briefly if she could offset it against her tax bill as expenses. John had said it was his treat but Annie didn’t like to take these things for granted.
The air was heavily scented with garlic, sizzling meats, fresh coriander and the ever-present undercurrent of woodsmoke. Annie’s stomach growled. She found John at a table for two near a deep-set leaded window. John smiled when he saw her and stood as she drew near. There was an awkward moment when both of them hovered, clearly wondering if they were in kissing cheek on arrival territory or not. They decided yes, each of them seeming to linger a little longer than was necessary. Annie breathed in John’s cologne before they parted – somewhat reluctantly – and sat down, Annie taking the chair opposite him. John closed his book – a ragged, yellowing copy ofA Scandal in Bohemia– and set it to one side. Annie nodded towards it.
‘You’re a Sherlock Holmes fan?’
‘Not particularly. Just this one really. It’s my go-to comfort book when I’m stressed.’ He picked it up and turned it over in all its dog-eared glory. ‘It was my dad’s. He read it to me when I was a kid; I didn’t understand half of it but I liked him reading it to me.’
‘I didn’t have you down for a classics fan. I thought you’d be more of a James Herbert man.’
John looked impressed.
‘How very astute of you, Ms Sharpe. As a matter of fact, I am a fan of James Herbert. But I like the classics too.’
‘You should join our book club.’
‘I’ll pass, thanks,’ said John. His eyes were sparkling with mischief. ‘I’ve seen what goes on at your book clubs.’
‘That was a one-off – not at all indicative of our usual run of events.’
‘I get the impression it’s really a women-only affair.’
‘You’re probably right. There’s lots of feminist talk and bra burning. Once a month we sacrifice a man to Hecate under a blood moon.’
John nodded sagely.
‘I thought as much,’ he said.
‘Was your dad a big reader?’
‘Yes. Or at least, I think I remember him reading a lot but that could be my memory adding embellishments.’
‘How old were you when he left?’
‘I was about nine. You know those stories about men who go out one day saying they’re going to buy a packet of cigarettes and never return?’
‘Yes,’ Annie laughed.
‘That was my dad.’
Annie straightened her face.
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. He told us he was going to the off-licence to get a packet of fags and some crisps and he never came back.’
‘Oh my God! Did you ever find out where he went?’
‘Oh yeah, he had a whole other family in the next town.’
‘What!’
‘Yep. I shit you not. Some of his other kids were even the same age as my siblings. He’d been leading a double life for nearly ten years and then one day he obviously picked a favourite. And that was the end of that.’
‘What did your mum do?’
