Bridget was most definitely done with being nice and lovely and cheerful 100 per cent of the time, she assured me.
Mamma cried so hard about her girls being reconciled that Sofia and Moses’ foster placement, a four-year-old girl, started crying along with her. And that only made the rest of us cry along with them. ‘If you do not put in the papers to adopt this beautiful child and have her become one of the family forever, then I will do it!’ Mamma whispered, as soon as the children had gone into the other room to watch a film.
‘That’s not how fostering works!’ I tutted at her, because I was clearly now an expert, being one of Sofia and Moses’ chosen support carers. ‘They can’t adopt every placement they get.’
‘No, but we’re pretty sure we’re asking if we can adopt this one,’ Sofia admitted, Dad popping open another bottle of fizz before she’d had time to finish speaking.
‘Oh, this is so wonderful!’ Mum yelled, toasting us all. ‘All we need now is for Emma and Bridget to find themselves separate, different, not the same men, who they actually want to stay married to, and then our family will be almost completed!’
28
Valentine’s Day, Bridget came to stay with me again. Neither of us had, or wanted, any prospects of romance on the anniversary of Bridget’s engagement, and, more importantly, Bridget had a fancy dinner to attend the next day for which she needed a whole two days of sisterly empowerment to give her the courage to get through it.
On the day itself, Nita and I delivered a wedding cake to a hotel in the city centre. It being one of the most popular wedding dates of the year, and a Friday, this was the last of a long day of deliveries, and the wedding guests were already milling about with drinks in their hands when we arrived.
‘Ugh!’ Nita grimaced as she pushed through an archway made of hearts and flowers. Actual replica biological human hearts. The couple were cardiologists, and had thought it a ‘cute’ personal touch. Nita had not considered creating an anatomically correct heart for a cake in any way cute.
‘No one wants to eat fake blood and gore at a wedding! This is a mass murderer’s cake. The kind of cake I would expect to deliver to Sofia’s estate on Halloween, not the swankiest hotel in Nottingham.’
‘Most of them are doctors,’ I replied, scanning around for the cake table. ‘They’ll appreciate the joke.’
‘And what about those children?’ Nita retorted. ‘This is not a PG cake!’
‘The children will probably love it the most.’
Then my words dried up in my mouth.
Nita followed my dumbstruck gaze to where Ben was charming the hat off an older woman. Literally, as we watched she tugged off her hat, tossed her hair like an advert for grey hair-dye, and batted her eyelashes, tittering.
Ben grinned back at her, camera clicking.
‘Wow,’ Nita said. ‘I think maybe you need to rescue him.’ We watched as the woman leant forwards, displaying a cleavage that appeared to go all the way down to her waist. ‘I never thought I’d say this, but I think Ben has unleashed a beast even he can’t tame. I think he needs rescuing.’
‘Not my problem.’ I started hurrying over towards the cake table as quickly as possible when carrying a giant-sized replica human heart in a box, valiantly attempting not to dwell on Ben’s beautiful arms, his broad shoulders, his perfectly lovely face that made my heart bounce about somewhere below my stomach. Had he been this gorgeous back when we were housemates?
‘You could make it your problem,’ Nita replied once she’d caught up with me.
‘I don’t think so,’ I said as, at the same time, Nita started waving her arms in Ben’s direction, hooting and hollering his name. He looked over, smiled and waved, then looked back at his camera.
Phew. That was a close escape.From what, I wasn’t sure – a quick conversation with a nice, kind, easy-going man I knew and hadn’t seen for a while?
Then he paused, for a millisecond (yes, I was still looking at him, thinking how pleased I was that he hadn’t come over) before snapping his head back over in our direction.
Those eyes. That gaze. It was like an ultra-sexy laser-beam, locking me in. We both stared at each other for long enough that I started to hope he couldn’t move either, so we’d just be stuck there on opposite sides of the room.
Then, dashing my hopes, he started walking towards us.
That walk. So cool and assured and focussed and chilled all at the same time. I carefully placed the cake box on the table, using up the rest of my faculties on breathing and remaining upright.
My feelings about Ben were vastly complicated. My memories of him were mixed up with a whole load of issues and guilt and self-doubt. I couldn’t see Ben and not remember Cooper. But without Cooper to consider, I was suddenly seeing Ben in a whole new light.
And then he was there in front of me, and grinning with what my heart was sure was a genuine, happy-to-see-me grin, not a charming, get-the-customers-to-relax one.
And, like always with Ben, in an instant my nerves and angst and uncertainty mostly dissolved and I simply felt happy to see him.
‘Hey!’
‘Hi.’ I gave in to the urge to smile back.
