The Therapist(5)

Three


We’ve had a lazy Sunday morning, staying in bed late before going out to the garden, where we’re lying side by side on wooden loungers under an orange parasol that Leo found in the garage. The air is heavy with the heady smell of jasmine and the book I was reading is lying on my chest. I turn my head lazily towards Leo. He’s checking messages on his phone and, sensing my eyes on him, he looks over at me.

‘Paul has invited me to play tennis with him next weekend,’ he says. ‘And Connor has messaged to remind me about a Residents’ Association meeting on Thursday.’ He puts his phone on the grass and reaches for my hand. ‘Luckily, I’m not sure I’ll be back from Birmingham in time.’

‘I can always go,’ I murmur, closing my eyes at the feel of his touch.

‘I think it’s more of a man thing.’

My eyes fly open. ‘Wow, I didn’t realise we’d regressed to the 50s by moving in here.’

He grins and rolls onto his side, his blue T-shirt exposing a line of skin at the top of his shorts. ‘Don’t blame me. From what Connor said, everyone goes back to his for whisky after. He’s a whisky trader and has an amazing collection, apparently.’

‘And women don’t drink whisky,’ I say, dryly. I lean towards him and give him a kiss, happy to see him so relaxed. ‘When do you think your work in Birmingham will be finished?’

‘In another few weeks, I hope.’ He smiles. ‘I can’t wait to be able to come home to you every evening. Ever since you reversed into the front of my car at those traffic lights, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.’

I can’t help laughing. ‘Good try. We both know that it was you who smacked into my car.’

‘I did not smack into your car!’ he protests, but he’s laughing too. ‘I bumped, and it was a very small bump.’

He’s right, it was such a slight bump that I decided not to bother getting out of the car to check it for damage, mainly because it was a horribly wet January day. But he had come to my window and knocked on the glass, gesturing at me through the rain to open my window.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, drops of water rolling down his face. The lights had by this time turned to green and as the cars began to pass around us, he bent closer and I found myself looking into brown-green eyes that managed to be both admiring and apologetic at the same time.

‘There’s no harm done,’ I told him. ‘Really, I hardly felt it.’

‘There might be harm done,’ he replied. ‘I must have damaged your car at least a little bit.’

‘Honestly, it’s fine.’ I liked the way his hair, damp with rain, clung to his forehead, the hint of stubble on his chin, and began to wish he had done some damage, so that I’d have a reason to carry on the conversation. Maybe I should check. I unbuckled my seatbelt. ‘If it will put your mind at rest, shall we have a look?’

I walked to the back of the car, the collar of my coat pulled up against the rain, and bent to inspect the bumper. There was only the smallest of marks and I couldn’t swear that it hadn’t already been there because a few weeks before, I’d backed into my friend Debbie’s horse-trailer.

‘There might be some internal damage that you can’t see, so shall I give you my details in case your bumper falls off further along the road?’

I smiled. ‘If you insist.’

‘I do.’ He took a card from his wallet and handed it to me. ‘And can I insist that you give me your details, in case your bumper does fall off, and you’re too polite to tell me?’

Leo Curtis, I read, looking at the card. Risk-management Consultant.

‘I don’t have a card but I can give you my mobile,’ I told him. He called me that night.

‘I just want to make sure you don’t have late-onset whiplash.’

‘I’m fine, the car’s fine,’ I reassured him.

‘Then perhaps we can celebrate that fineness together,’ he suggested, making me laugh. ‘Can I take you out for dinner?’

‘I think that might be a bit difficult,’ I said regretfully.

There was an embarrassed pause. ‘I’m sorry, I should have guessed—’

‘No, that’s not what I mean,’ I interrupted hurriedly. ‘It’s just that I presume, from your card, that you live in London. I live in East Sussex. Meeting for dinner won’t be easy.’

‘Don’t worry – have car, will travel. Tell me, is there a wonderful restaurant not too far from where you live where I could take you to apologise for crashing into your life?’

‘Believe it or not, there is.’

And that had been the start of it all.



Now, Leo nods towards my mobile. ‘Anyone message you, or am I the favourite?’ he jokes, which niggles a bit but only because of how unfriendly Tamsin was.

‘Just one from Cara thanking us for last night, which is lovely of her as she already posted a message on the WhatsApp group – as did everyone else. They’re obviously very polite here. Did you see all the “New Home” cards we got? I put them in the sitting room, along the mantelpiece.’

‘Yes, I saw them. I suppose they’ll be there for weeks,’ he adds with a smile, referring to the way I keep birthday and Christmas cards on display for ages.