‘We need to think about food,’ I said to Daniel, once Hope had been settled with a bottle on Grandma’s knee in the lounge room, their presence nicely avoiding the post-creepy comment awkwardness. ‘I think I saw some pasta bake in the fridge.’
‘Is that a joke?’ Grandma said. ‘Whatever your parents might think, you three are meant to be on holiday!’
‘She’s got a fair point,’ Daniel replied, cradling his mug of tea. ‘I’m sure the pasta is lovely, but how about going out to eat?’
‘A good idea!’ Grandma said. ‘Somewhere swanky that even a big, fancy pants famous restaurant reviewer would approve of!’
‘Grandma,’ I chided. ‘I’m not that famous or fancy pants. And we can hardly take Hope somewhere like that.’
‘Well, of course not. Leave her with us. We’ll watch her.’
‘Um.’ I glanced at Daniel. While Hope was having a lovely time playing with Grandma’s beaded necklace, I wasn’t sure she was quite up to babysitting duties.
‘I’ve actually already booked us a table at the Red House.’
‘What?’ The Red House was about as swanky, fancy pants as Windermere got.
Daniel shrugged, and behind his mug he appeared to beblushing.‘We were driving past and it looked nice. It’s ages since I’ve eaten at a restaurant. And like Grandma said, you might be on a work trip but I’m on holiday.’
Oh my goodness.
He had booked us a meal in a restaurant.
While one part of my brain knew this could be in order to relocate to a neutral venue to tell me that due to my inappropriate feelings I would need to move out of Damson Farm, a larger part was jumping up and down in a mixture of ecstasy, excitement and full-blown nerves.
Surelythis was a date?
A man asking a woman, who strongly indicated that she found him attractive only hours earlier, to eat out with him in a fine dining restaurant? If it wasn’t a date, it was downright cruel not to be clear about it.
My heart was flapping like a demented chicken.
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, my voice humiliatingly hoarse.
‘Well, why wouldn’t he be sure?’ Grandma exclaimed. ‘It’s only a meal out, isn’t it? Although…’ She leant towards Daniel’s chair. ‘You are paying, aren’t you?’
‘Well, given that I’m staying here for free, I think I’d better pay.’
‘Very good. I wholeheartedly approve. Eleanor?’ Grandma nodded, satisfied. ‘Go and do all the things I’ve not done since your Grandad was here, God bless him.’
25
On my first ‘first date’ since Marcus, back in June, I would have ideally had something nicer to wear than jeans and a baggy brown jumper. In a perfect scenario, I would have worn some make-up, and gone to the hairdresser for the first time in forever.
I might have even worn shoes that didn’t have a rubber sole and laces.
I tried to remind myself that Daniel had seen me looking far worse on many occasions, and at least I’d showered and brushed my hair this time, but still. No one wants to go to a Michelin-starred restaurant and look like they’d just rolled in off the sofa, even if it wasn’t a date.
I eyed myself in the Pintail full-length mirror, thought about all my designer clothes left behind in London, and reminded myself how much happier I was to have left that shallow, fake life behind, too.
Just then, my phone beeped with a message. It was Becky:
There’s another bag in the car. Might be useful this evening xx
What??
For your date! XX
WHAT?!?
