Two Kinds Of Truth(7)

The smell of fresh garlic fills the air and I breathe in deeply, the delicious aroma making my stomach rumble. Soft music plays in the background, the dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra, and I relax further into the soft leather of my seat.

“It appears we’ve missed the rush,” I say to the waiter as he hands me a menu. He nods as he wipes down the table, then heads off into the direction of the kitchen, but I frown, realising Callum isn’t listening. He’s too busy browsing the back page of the menu.

“Er… What did you say?” he asks, unable to tear his eyes from the list of alcoholic beverages.

I let out an exaggerated sigh and he looks over at me. “I think I’ll have a beer; would you like a glass of wine?”

Inside, I want to scream. He knows full well I don’t drink when I’m working.

“I’ll just have a Diet Coke, thanks.”

“Oh, for Christ sake, Maddie, live a little. Why can’t you just let your hair down once in a while and have a drink with me?”

I’m shocked by his tone and feel my cheeks burn, but I don’t wish to make things worse between us. I don’t want to start a fight like last night. So, I keep it zipped and stay tight-lipped, studying the specials whilst watching Callum out of the corner of my eye, observing him tapping his hand over the table’s laminated surface.

“Excuse me sir; are you ready to order?”

Callum’s gaze shifts from the menu to the waiter.

“Actually, I can’t decide. I either want the bacon double cheese burger or the turkey melt.”

“Shall I give you a few minutes more?” the young man asks.

“Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.”

He nods and heads over to the bar, taking my gaze with him as far as the next booth, where a young couple are sitting together. They’re laughing and joking, completely oblivious to the outside world, absorbed only in one another’s company. The woman’s cheeks dimple with a smile that moves fluidly across her face, her happiness clear to all who care to look, shining like a glorious beacon.

I let out a deep sigh and look away, staring down with unseeing eyes at my menu. I try to recapture a moment when Callum had looked at me in such a way, but I struggle. Perhaps it was the day he asked me to marry him.

Callum clicks his fingers just as the waiter walks by with somebody else’s drinks.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I hiss in despair, sliding a little deeper into the booth. “How rude of you and can’t you see people are staring?”

Callum shrugs. “I don’t care. I’m ready to order, and we were here long before that couple.”

“Well, you damn well should care. You can’t go clicking your fingers at the staff, you’ll get us thrown out.”

“Is that right, little miss perfect,” Callum huffs. “I was only trying to catch his attention.”

The waiter hurries over. I can’t look the man in the eye, and purposely fiddle with one of my gloves.

“Sorry about that,” he says, “only I mixed up their beverages. I gave them sweetened tea instead of unsweetened. The lady’s diabetic.”

I lift my face and smile, but I still can’t meet his gaze.

“Have you decided what you’d both like to drink?”

“Yes. My wife will have a Diet Coke and I’ll have a Coors,” Callum says. “We’re also ready to place our lunch order.”

“Absolutely,” and the waiter lifts his notepad and pen. “What can I get you both?”

“I’ll take the bacon double cheeseburger, and—”

“And I will have the baked lasagne,” I say.

The waiter takes our menus and heads back through the double-doors to the kitchen.

“Callum, what’s wrong with you?” I say firmly. “Lately, you’ve been acting like a Jekyll and Hyde, one minute you’re nice and the next you’re a monster.”

Callum lets out an irritated sigh. “I’m sorry about…you know…earlier. I didn’t mean to offend anyone.”

I take a deep breath. “So, work’s still busy, then?”

“No, not really. Since I lost Lord Fornhill’s account, the business pretty much ticks along without me.”

The waiter returns with our drinks, setting the Coors down next to Callum’s hand and the Diet Coke right in front of me. “Thanks,” I say.

“Your food should be out shortly. Is there anything else you need?”

“No. We’re good,” Callum nods.

I reach for my handbag and dig inside. Within seconds I find a copy of Cycling Weekly. It’s a bit tatty at the corners and rather motheaten, but it’s the only issue I have. Callum lifts an eyebrow and points the bottle of beer in my direction.

“What’s with the mag?”

“Oh, it’s just an old copy of an outdoor pursuits magazine I found at the back of the shop. It was mixed in with a couple of floral booklets. I’ve been thinking about getting myself a bike, you know, to try and keep fit.”

Callum shakes his head and chuckles. “Are you serious? You’ve never been one for cycling.”

“Well, that’s just it: I think it’s time I changed all that. A new bike wouldn’t cost too much, and I think I’d enjoy it.”