Sometimes I Lie(36)

I stand right next to him, breathing in his smell, already so familiar and forbidden. He doesn’t seem to notice me at all.

‘I’ll have a glass of Malbec, please,’ I say to the barman. In my peripheral vision, I see Edward’s head turn, his eyes drinking me in from top to bottom, the way they always did.

‘Hello, Edward,’ I say, turning to face him. I do my best to keep my voice and my expression level. He smiles back. Time has changed me, but clearly left him alone. Over a decade of life seems to have only improved him. I can’t help noticing the tanned skin, white teeth and mischievous brown eyes that seem to dance with delight as he stares at me.

‘I’ll get that and another pint of Amber Ale – I like the name.’ He takes a crisp twenty pound note from his leather wallet and places it on the bar. His white cotton shirt looks almost too small for him as it struggles and strains to hide the muscles beneath. He was always at the gym when we were students and clearly still works out now. ‘So, you came.’

‘I did,’ I reply. His stare feels too intense and I struggle not to look away.

‘It’s good to see you.’ Something about the way his eyes hold mine makes me shrink a little. The wine arrives and I am greedy for it.

‘Well, I had a couple of hours free this evening and thought it might be nice to catch up,’ I say.

‘A couple of hours? Is that all I’m getting?’ he says, passing me my glass.

‘No, I’ve only got ten minutes to spare with you, then I’ve got another date with some cool people.’

He smiles, a fraction too late.

‘Another date?’ he asks.

I blush.

‘I see. Well, I had better make the most of the time I have with you then. Cheers.’ He raises his glass to mine and continues to hold my stare as we drink. I look away first and swallow down more of the wine than I should.

Things quickly become comfortable between us. The alcohol oils our conversation and both flow freely. It feels easy and natural to be in his company again, despite the missing years. Three days before Christmas and the bar is uncomfortably full, but I barely notice. The strangers that surround us are regularly replenished, cushioning me from the dangerously sharp edges of who we used to be. I return Edward’s smiles, compliments and light touches only too aware that it would take just a tiny tear to rip through the fabric of the life I have now. After two drinks I’m already feeling slightly more intoxicated than seems wise. I haven’t managed to eat much today.

‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,’ he says, as though reading my mind. ‘Do you have time to get a quick bite to eat?’ I consider the proposal. I’m hungry, I’m having fun. I’m not doing anything wrong. In my albeit brief search, I can’t find a reason to say no.

‘Somewhere nearby?’ I ask.

‘Sounds good to me,’ he says, then stands to help me into my jacket. After fighting our way through the masses, he pushes the door open ahead of me. ‘After you.’ I’d forgotten what it was like to be out with a gentleman; it’s like being with someone from the past, my past.

The air is soberingly cold, but Edward says he knows a place not too far away. I’m out of practice walking in heels on cobbled streets. The second time I stumble he takes my arm and I let him, aware that we must look like a couple and I don’t think that I mind. We stop at what looks like a residential town house and I’m confused when he releases my arm and knocks on the intimidating black door.

‘What are you doing?’ I whisper. I feel like a schoolgirl.

‘Finding somewhere for us to eat, unless you aren’t hungry any more?’

Before I have a chance to reply, the large, glossy door swings open, and a middle-aged man in a black suit appears in the doorway. He’s uncomfortably tall, like someone has stretched him and he has the face of someone who’s received too much bad news. ‘Any chance of a table for two?’ asks Edward.

To my surprise, the man nods. ‘Of course, sir, step this way.’

I feel like Alice in Wonderland as I follow the suited man down a long, marble-floored hallway. I look over my shoulder to make sure Edward is still following behind. He looks pleased with himself and I realise this was probably all part of his plan for the evening. I don’t mind, it’s not as though he forced me to come. We turn through a small door on the right and enter a large, candlelit dining room, where we are shown to the only remaining empty table. Four other couples are already seated; they don’t look up.

‘I will get you the wine list, sir,’ says the suited man before retreating with our coats through a curtained doorway.

‘Well, this is impressive,’ is all I can manage to say.

‘Thank you, I like it. It’s members’ only.’

His tanned hands pick up the white cotton napkin on the table in front of him, carefully unfolding the cloth as though he’s handling the Turin Shroud, before placing it on his lap. I do the same with my own napkin, then wonder what is taking so long with the wine list. I worry that we might have already exhausted all avenues of interesting conversation without it.

‘How’s the new job going?’ I ask.

‘Well. Very well in fact. It was supposed to be temporary, but they’ve offered me a permanent post and I’ve decided to stay a little longer.’