Page 28 of Ex in the City
I sigh heavily. I used to love coming here, to The Old Heifer, an upmarket pub and restaurant on the outskirts of Little Harehill, back when things were good between me and Rowan. The boys love it too, and they usually find restaurants boring, but it could have something to do with the huge play area outside.
The casual, friendly atmosphere wraps around us as we all sit around our usual table. Archie and Ned fidget in their seats, polishing off the last of their chicken nuggets and chips, eager to go out and play as they often do before dessert.
Is it odd, that I’m going to miss the routine? I know, routine is boring, but there’s something sort of nice about doing something that works. I’ve always loved bringing the boys here, seeing them enjoy their food, and the play area, and the ice cream station they have where kids can concoct their own creations. I don’t suppose I’ll ever enjoy it again, not in the way I used to. I mean, look at this evening, we’re only here so that Rowan can take some pictures for his socials.
Rowan is on top form, armed with his phone, taking photos of every dish, of me, of the boys, of me and the boys – he even has a particular waiter, who he keeps getting to take candidphotos of us. I’m no stranger to snapping a photo of my food, before I tuck in, but having someone take my photo while I’m eating makes it hard to relax.
‘Smile, everyone!’ Rowan insists as the waiter snaps another group shot.
I force myself to smile. I can’t have many of these left to do now.
‘Okay, boys, why don’t you go hit up the play area while Nicole and I finish our food,’ Rowan tells them. ‘I’ll come and get you, when it’s time for ice cream.’
‘Okay,’ Archie says, speaking on behalf of them both.
‘Let’s let them burn off some energy,’ he says to me with a smile, now that it’s just the two of us.
I smile back dutifully as Rowan extends an arm, to take a selfie of us. But once the photo is captured, and his phone is back on the table, he looks at me with a sincerity that catches me off guard.
‘Nicole, I’m sorry,’ he tells me. ‘I overreacted about Dylan showing up. It’s just… it was a big shock, that’s all. Yes, I still find it strange, that you never told me the two of you were friends, and it’s bloody odd that he’s just moved in across the road but, yeah, I get that this is your job, and it’s important to you, and you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.’
I appreciate him saying that, even if he is still banging on a little.
‘Thank you,’ I say simply, willing to be a grown-up about it. ‘It is work – like how this is work for you, so I’m here, supporting you.’
Rowan’s smile returns, a genuine one this time, as he looks past me. Suddenly, a waiter appears, carrying a chilled bottle of champagne which he places down in front of us.
‘For the happy couple,’ the waiter says.
Before I can say a word, a guitarist appears alongside our table, playing a medley of love songs on his acoustic as he sings the words – directing his set point-blank at me and Rowan.
Rowan reaches out across the table, taking my hand in his.
Oh, boy, is this awkward. Not only because, obviously, Rowan and I are no longer romantically involved, but also because it’s uncomfortable, having someone play music just for us, up close, while everyone else in the room stares at us. I don’t know where to look. Glancing around reminds me of all the eyes on us, I don’t want to look at Rowan, and looking at the young man playing guitar while he sings is just cringe in a way I can’t explain.
Just when I think it can’t get any more surreal, I notice the waiter – the one who has been taking photos for Rowan all evening – discreetly recording the entire performance. My cringe intensifies, but I’ve got to keep my game face on, I just need to stick this out, it will be over soon.
Rowan tightens his grip on my hand.
‘Nicole, I love you,’ he tells me, and I’m not sure if he means it, or if it is for the cameras, but I can’t bring myself to say it back. ‘You’re my world, and I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?’
I smile and nod.
‘I mean it,’ he insists. ‘I am going to give you the best life, if you’ll let me.’
A spark of panic ignites inside me as Rowan reaches into his pocket. My mind races, my God, tell me he isn’t about to pull out a ring, because, let’s face it, that’s exactly the kind of thing Rowan would do.
Panicking at the prospect of Rowan giving me a ring, my mind races faster than my heartbeat.
‘I’m just nipping to the loo,’ I say, jumping to my feet, ready to dash off before he can even get his hand out of his pocket.
However – and this is just classic me – I’m in such a hurry that I’m not looking where I am going, so I collide with a waiter who was carrying two bowls of ice cream. The key word there being ‘was’ – they’re on the floor now. The guitarist stops abruptly and, if Rowan was going to pull something from his pocket, he’s clearly changed his mind now.
‘Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry,’ I tell the waiter.
‘Not to worry,’ the waiter kindly reassures me. ‘I can take care of it.’
‘One for the out-takes, hmm?’ I say to Rowan, laughing awkwardly as I try in vain to lighten the situation. ‘I’ll be back in a sec – and I’ll bring the boys for their dessert.’
