After You Left(24)

Spotting him somehow dampened sound. I suddenly seemed to bloom like a flower. As though someone had just given me the right combination of sun, wind, warmth and water. As I studied him, time slowed to footpace. And then, almost as if he felt the pull of my eyes, he turned around. And even though the room was crowded, and there were so many other faces he could have looked at, it was mine he homed right in on. I gave a small, involuntary smile. He responded likewise, looking charmed. We were held there, like wind-hovering birds, until I was the first to look away.

I don’t really know when my faith in men went out of the window. Perhaps I’d never had much, so I’d managed to attract ones whose shitty behaviour wouldn’t fail to disappoint. I may have learnt this from my mother who, despite having Alan as a wonderful partner for so many years, lumped all men in with my true father, whose heinous crimes were too numerous to identify. It’s not as though I ever had the sort of unrealistic expectations my single friends always harboured. If he was intelligent, kind, somewhat fun, with a good sense of humour, if he had one feature that pleased my eye every time I looked at his face – that could be enough to fall in love with. But still, it had never really happened.

‘He’s handsome,’ I said to Sally. But the weight of another possible new start was just too much. ‘I can’t do it again, though. It’s over for me, Sally. I can’t handle being let down any more. I can’t put my mind or my body through one more traumatic break-up.’ The image of Colin proposing had wounded me more than I was ever going to let on. Maybe he hadn’t loved me enough to want to marry me, because I wasn’t worthy of being loved. ‘I honestly think I’m destined to be alone. In fact, I’m looking forward to it. Alone doesn’t mean lonely. I’m going to chant that every day, in my celibate, Buddhist monk’s temple.’

‘Here he comes,’ Sally said.

‘Who?’

‘Him.’

‘No!’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh God.’ I clapped both hands over my face. ‘Alone doesn’t mean I’m lonely!’

Sally chuckled. ‘You are so full of shit!’

‘Please, please, make him go away! Let him meet someone else on the way over here. Please.’

‘Ah! Shoot! He’s gone. Girlfriend! False alarm.’

I swung around, gutted, to look for the girlfriend. And when I did, there was Justin right behind me, grinning madly. He was even more attractive up close. Not boringly handsome. Rather beast-like and full of character, with kindness twinkling in those remarkable blue-green eyes. I gave Sally a glance that said, Why can I never stick to my guns?

‘Listen,’ he said. ‘I don’t do this chatting up in bars business very well, so fortunately you’re going to be spared my grisly attempt at hitting on you. Thing is, I don’t have a lot of time – I have to go back to work – but I wondered if you might go out to dinner with me?’ He was shouting over the music. His eyes searched my face, and were brimming with expectancy. ‘I was thinking some place with good old-fashioned seats to sit on, where we can talk like civilised adults instead of having to shout at one another.’

He was asking me out to dinner before he’d even asked my name. And he didn’t act like he thought that was in any way weird. ‘Are you serious?’ I said.

He held my eyes, steadfastly. ‘Why would I be anything less?’ The whiteness of his shirt against the darkness of his skin under these lights was bedazzling. No, I thought. He is bedazzling!

‘You want me to go out to dinner with you – a perfect stranger? What makes you think that would be a good idea?’

There was a hint of a cheeky smile now. ‘I never said I was perfect. In fact, far from it.’

I had to laugh.

He leant in slightly; I could feel the warmth of his breath on my ear, though it didn’t seem like a move. He didn’t seem like a player in the slightest. ‘I’ve just seen you across a crowded room . . . Your face has pretty much just taken my breath away. But sadly, I have to leave. And I don’t want to walk out thinking I won’t see you again.’

‘But you just ordered drinks?’

‘For friends.’ He nodded to a group of men. ‘They don’t have anti-social jobs like I do.’

He was waiting for my answer. Despite the madness of it, I said, ‘Okay.’

A slight note of triumph and pleasure lit up his face. He suggested the place, date, time. Then he repeated it, uncertainly, and I thought, No, he’s definitely not a player. More like slightly nerdy. The guy who peaked late.

His top button was undone, and his red tie had been yanked halfway down his chest. ‘You’re not going to stand me up, are you?’ He cocked me a sideways, playful glance but I could tell he was actually quite serious.

‘No . . . That’s generally not what I do.’

‘Promise?’ He placed a hand on his heart. ‘Because my fragile self-esteem will never be able to handle it, if you do.’

I laughed. ‘I don’t believe that for one minute!’

‘It’s true. But, more to the point, I’ll have to sit there on my own and wonder, What if . . . ?’

He looked at me as though all the What Ifs were flickering there, waiting to be known. As though he were silently saying, Be as excited as I am about it.