Million Love Songs(9)

‘The others have gone on ahead,’ he says. ‘It’s just us two.’

‘I had to do my hair,’ I offer apologetically. It must be so much easier to be a scuba-diver if you’re a baldy.

‘No worries. The pub’s only round the corner.’ Joe holds the door open for me and we head out into the cool evening, falling into step side by side. There’s hardly anyone around as we walk up the side street towards the main road in Wolverton. A few lads hanging around by the school look as guilty as hell as we pass and there’s the heady whiff of cannabis coming from their general vicinity. I’m wondering whether I should have left my car parked by the leisure centre or whether I should have driven to the pub. I hope Joe walks me back.

As if I haven’t got enough to worry about, I’m fretting about catching pneumonia or pleurisy by going out with damp hair – the things that your mother tells you leave scars for life – when Joe says, ‘You did well tonight. You were nice and calm. Not everyone does so well on their first session.’

I get a rush of pride. ‘Thanks.’ We make our way along the street of slightly downtrodden terraced houses before turning onto the main road. It’s dusk now and the street lights are flickering into life.

‘Have you always wanted to have a go at diving?’

‘No,’ I admit. ‘It was recently added to my To Do List. I’m currently embracing the whole post-divorce, independence, new-me thing.’

‘Ah,’ he says. ‘I can empathise. I’ve also found myself recently single and staring at divorce papers.’

‘Me too.’ Even as I say it, a secret evil part of me is glad to hear that he’s not happily married. He kind of looks as if he would be. That doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s on the market, of course. ‘Sucks, doesn’t it?’

‘Yeah,’ he agrees. ‘It’s certainly a steep learning curve.’ Joe shakes his head, sadly. ‘You sort of assume that when you sign up for life it won’t all fall apart in fifteen years.’

‘Fifteen years. Wow. Is that how long you were together?’ Seems like a Herculean effort when compared to my paltry attempt at forever.

‘Even longer, I suppose. As usual, we were together a few years before we took the plunge.’

‘I only lasted five in total with Simon. I’m trying to see being single again as a new challenge rather than an abject failure.’

‘I think if I was on my own, I’d probably do the same. Unfortunately, I have two children who are very bewildered and hurt by it all.’

God, what an idiot I am. It never occurred to me that he’d have kids to think of. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. It must be a nightmare when there are children to take into account. Kids are remarkably resilient though.’

‘That’s what everyone keeps telling me. I’m not so sure.’ He sighs and jams his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. ‘I can understand Gina walking away from me if she’d had enough, but how do you turn your back on your kids?’

‘How old are they?’

‘Old enough for them to be taking it badly. Tom’s fifteen and Daisy’s twelve. Tough ages at any time, without all this as well. They should be into kids’ stuff and not having to deal with our problems.’ He shakes his head, baffled. ‘Tom’s doing all right. On the surface. But Daisy’s not happy. I know it. She needs her mum around. It breaks my heart.’

‘It will all work out.’

He laughs, but it’s not without humour. ‘If I had a pound for everyone who said that to me, I’d be buying myself a yacht in the Bahamas.’

‘Good diving out there, I hear,’ I tease.

‘At this rate, I’ll never find out,’ Joe says as we arrive at the pub. He stops under the light of a street lamp and turns to me. ‘That was a pretty heavy conversation for openers.’ He grins at me and I notice that he has a beautiful smile. It softens his face and takes years off him. ‘Sorry about that.’

I grin back. ‘How very un-British of us. We should have been talking about the weather.’

‘Sorry,’ he says again. ‘There’s no one I can really talk to about it. My mates just think my ex is an out-and-out bitch yet I’m trying my best to keep a slightly more balanced view of the situation for the kids’ sake.’

‘That sounds like a healthier option.’

‘Yeah,’ he agrees. ‘It’s a noble sentiment, but some days it’s easier than others.’ He opens the door to the pub and we step inside. ‘I’ll buy you a drink by way of apology for bending your ear with my break-up woes.’

‘I’ll just have a diet Coke please. Driving.’ I’m going to end up looking like a glass of this stuff if I drink much more of it, when I’d really rather look like a glass of champagne.

He steers me to the group from the dive club and introduces me. ‘This is Ruby, lads. She completed her first session tonight with flying colours.’ Then he leaves me to chat to them while he pushes through the crush of people to the bar and gets our drinks.

My eyes follow him. Hmm. It would be very easy to fall for someone like Joe Edwards. Someone exactly like Joe Edwards but who wasn’t recently divorced and had two kids.

Remember that, Ruby Brown.