Just The Way You Are(29)

‘These are great,’ I exclaimed, sitting back and stroking the arms.

‘Thanks.’ Sam grinned.

‘Where did you get them? I just bought a couple of chairs and table for my garden, but I really need two more.’

‘Here,’ he replied, pointing the chunk of potato on the end of his fork at the trees to one side of us.

‘They’re made from Bigley Forest trees?’ I asked, impressed.

‘Yep.’

‘So where could I get some from, given that my city girl skills don’t include turning a tree into a comfy chair?’

He shrugged. ‘I can knock you a couple of chairs up. Let me know when you need them by.’

‘You made these chairs.’

The dimple was back.

‘You really are the wild man of the forest.’

‘Apparently so.’

We chatted for a while about the other things he’d made (which turned out to be most of his house, as well various pieces of furniture for friends and family). It was nice. Very nice. And remarkedly non-awkward, considering that I was eating dinner in a beautiful setting with a man who looked like Mr May Forest Ranger. After a lifetime of meals rife with subtext, emotional manipulation and self-absorption, this was refreshingly pleasant. The more time I spent with Sam, the more I hoped we would become genuine friends.

And, possibly, somewhere deep down where I could mostly pretend it didn’t exist, was hidden a tiny hope that if I raced through the Dream List fast enough, we could, perhaps, one day grow to be more than that.

When Sam went to fetch the cheesecake, and returned with a bottle of white wine, offering to walk me home if I wanted a drink, with the option of fetching the car tomorrow, I did wonder for a flabbergasted second if he might be thinking along those lines, too. But then, I scolded myself when he excused himself to take a call from someone called Lilly, he was gorgeous, easy-going, ridiculously friendly Sam. It was probably unthinkable for him not to offer me some of the food I’d brought round. He’d have almost certainly done the same for Irene Jenkins. Or Ebenezer. I heard a guffaw drift through the sliding door and realised that for all I knew, Lilly was his girlfriend and she was rolling her eyes at him inviting in yet another waif. They’d probably had a right laugh about the woman with the uncontrollable dog.

‘Sorry about that,’ he said, returning to the table. ‘Would you like some wine?’

By now, I just wanted to go home again.

‘I would,’ I said apologetically. ‘But I’ve got work tomorrow, so I’d better not. I don’t want to get home too late.’

‘Right, of course!’ Sam replied, a twinge of pink creeping across his cheeks. ‘Me too. You’ll stay for some pudding, though?’

‘Ooh.’ I pretended to check my non-existent watch. ‘I think I can just about squeeze in a big slice or two.’

‘The other day, you mentioned needing to prove yourself to people. Wanting to be independent,’ Sam said, once he’d handed me about a quarter of the cake.

I nodded, feeling a flush of warmth that he’d remembered.

‘Do you mind me asking why you moved out here?’

I took a moment’s pause to consider how to answer, eventually deciding that I might as well go with the truth. ‘I was living with my mum, in Nottingham. And, well… she isn’t always the easiest. Ever since my dad walked out on us – and he literally just walked out the door one day and never came back – she’s had this fear of being abandoned again.’

‘By you?’

‘Primarily me, yes. So, if she caught any hint that I was drawing away, spending a bit more time with friends, or, worst of all, starting a potential relationship, she’d make things very difficult.’ I paused to take a sip of my drink. Sam’s forehead creased in concentration.

‘It sounds ridiculous, but I always thought that one day I’d finally meet the right person, and then I could get married and move out, and she’d just have to deal with it.’

‘You mentioned that the person you were in love with married someone else, because of your mum.’

Wow. This man really paid attention.

‘Yes. He’d asked me. More than once. But it was never the right time.’ I frowned. ‘I suppose eventually he realised it was never going to be the right time, as far as Mum was concerned.’ I rolled my eyes in anticipation of what I was about to share. ‘I had this Dream List. Something I’d started in sixth form, with all the things I wanted to do once I finally had someone to do proper couple things with. Silly things, really.’ I could feel myself blushing, but Sam held such a warm look of interest that I carried on. ‘Assembling flat-pack furniture together.’ I threw him a pointed look. ‘Having a party. Getting a dog.’

‘That doesn’t sound silly at all.’

‘Perhaps not… but it was definitely stupid to think I needed a man to do all those things.’ I nodded at him. ‘Although it turned out I did need one to help with the bed!’

I turned to look at where the sun was sinking in a pool of orange behind the treeline. ‘I also realised that for my whole life I’ve been like this little planet, revolving around the star that is my mother. Relying on her for warmth and light and direction. I’m thirty this year, and I don’t really know who I am.’ I took a deep breath. ‘So, here I am, trying to find out.’