Just The Way You Are(97)

She took hold of my hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘I’m proud of you, Ollie. Now go and show everyone what a fully functional, independent adult you are.’

By eight o’clock my lungs were starting to function again. The garden was full of guests, ranging from the ReadUp volunteers and clients to Pia, who was merrily chatting to my mum and Karina about local theatre. There was an empty space in my garden where Joan and Leanne should have been, but I’d arranged to video call the next day, and the book Joan had sent me was waiting on my bedside table. I also couldn’t help noticing that Sam hadn’t arrived. I knew he’d been delayed by the hunt for Nesbit, but it was hard to relax when one eye insisted on flicking between the back gate and the kitchen door, waiting for him to appear, and behind my greetings and smiles and chitchat was a running commentary on why he wasn’t here yet and if he was going to come…

As time ticked on, I determinedly dragged my gaze from the gate and scanned the clusters of people laughing and talking and loading up delicious platefuls of food. Yasmin and Trev were teasing Jaxx, who’d insisted on bringing a tub of Nomato, as well as his new girlfriend, who sternly told him it was disgusting and would be put to much better use as fake blood once he’d stopped being delusional and applied for the paramedic course.

Aunty Linda and Uncle Geoff were talking to Ebenezer, who even seemed to manage the odd reply. One table was a sprawling mass of Steph’s family, including her mum and Nicky, delighted to have been given the task of keeping Nesbit entertained and out of trouble.

I’d done this. I’d organised and hosted a party, and to my bewildered amazement, it seemed to be going okay. I caught Leon’s eye across the garden and he flicked his eyebrows in response, sending a slow roll of heat up from my stomach to my pink cheeks.

Okay, Ollie – time to stop wittering about who isn’t here, and start enjoying those who are.





Before I made it round to Leon, aware that it might be a conversation I wanted to last a while, I stopped to talk to Mum.

‘Hi,’ I said.

‘Ollie,’ Mum replied, with a tense smile. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ I said, realising with a rush of relief that this was true. ‘The cushions are stunning.’

The tension eased a fraction. ‘Thank you. Your house is lovely.’

We chatted for a few more minutes about family, Buttonhole friends and other safe topics of conversation before she stopped, suddenly, mid-sentence. ‘Olivia. I don’t want to keep you from your friends. It’s very nice to see you. I have missed you, and I’m… I’m sorry. But maybe we can catch up properly another time?’

I don’t want to keep you from your friends.

My mouth must have dropped open. Without thinking, I threw my arms around Mum and pulled her in for a hug. I may have hung on there for most of the evening, except that she patted my back and said, ‘Off you go, now, go and enjoy yourself. I’ll still be here.’

‘Thank you.’ Sometimes two words can convey more than a whole conversation. ‘Oh, and Mum? Back in February you bought two tickets for the outdoor theatre. Much Ado About Nothing. If you’ve asked someone else now, Karina or another friend, that’s totally fine, I understand. But if not… I’d love to go with you.’

It was Mum’s turn to let her jaw dangle. ‘Yes. I mean no! I mean, I’ve not asked anybody else.’ She paused, swallowed, gave one sharp nod. ‘That would be very nice. I’ll message you in the week with the details.’

Turning to go, I glimpsed Irene, standing stiffly under the gazebo alone.

‘Would you come and say hello to someone for me?’





Introductions made, a few more hellos and happy birthdays later, dusk was approaching as I wound my way to where Leon stood by the drinks table.

‘Hi, so pleased you could make it,’ I said, trying to sound cool and flirty but coming across like a nursery teacher greeting her class.

‘Well,’ he pulled a face, ‘I wasn’t sure if I could be bothered to come all this way, but then, you know, free food. Here.’ He held out a glass containing a swirl of pink, a sprig of mint floating amongst the crushed ice.

‘What’s this?’

‘I call it “The Olivia”.’

I took the glass, not sure whether to cringe or accept the compliment before noticing the gleam of humour in his eyes. ‘It’s a pink negroni. Legacy of a misspent summer as a cocktail waiter in Ibiza.’

‘Well,’ I said, taking a sip while breathing a sigh of relief, ‘It’s lovely. Thank you.’

‘In that case I count the summer totally worth it. Salut.’ He met my gaze over the rim of our glasses, and I felt a distinct flutter in my stomach. I resisted the urge to check the time, but by my reckoning I had about three hours left of the No-Man Mandate. Whatever time the party finished, I was declaring the Dream List complete on the stroke of midnight.

‘You look lovely, by the way,’ Leon added, and I accepted the compliment with a gracious nod, even as my face turned scarlet. It had been another challenge, deciding what to wear without any help from Steph, but I had no regrets about choosing a navy-blue dress that skimmed my curves and managed to be both dressy and comfortable whilst also feeling a teensy bit sexy, which was the perfect amount of sexy for me.