Gran interrupts my train of thought. ‘Well, we’ve agreed to be friends, but you can never tell with cunning old men. They’re likely to change their mind on a whim, you know? Darling, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to keep fake-dating Georgios.’
Is this her way of asking me to stay a bit longer? Gran turns to face me. ‘Unless your relationship has developed organically and you haven’t enlightened your dear old gran?’ Smirking, she taps her fingertips together while she waits for my response – either that or she’s incanting a love spell.
I stay mute. If I give her an inch, she’ll be off and running.
‘Evie?’
Gah! ‘Not sure. He’s hard to read.’
She scoffs. ‘Hard to read! What is he … a book? Ask the damn man and then you’ll know.’
‘Ask him what exactly?’
‘How he feels about you. What the future holds. Whether he wants to make sweetsweetlove.’
‘Gran!’
‘What?’
‘I can’t ask those things, especially the sweet, sweet … thing.’ I can’t even say it in front of her.
‘Why not?’
I make a moue with my lips before saying primly, ‘It’s not in my nature to be forward.’
‘How is it being forward asking the guy what the future holds?’ Gran shakes her head in frustration. ‘You two are as a bad as each other.’
‘What does that mean?’ I suck in a breath, ready for her to tell me all the ways we’re suited and a perfect match and how I simply need to express those feelings, as if it’s as natural as asking him what the time is.
‘Youbothhave a hang-up about sharing your feelings, so instead you pretend you don’t have any.’
Bingo. But wait …
‘Are you saying you think he’s the same as me?’ The idea is so wild it almost makes me laugh. Does he have the same hang-ups? Is it that he’s not only focused on work, on words, it’s that he doesn’t quite know how to express himself in a non-fictional world so he lets it float away – just like me? Or he ends things before they fully develop – just like me? Huh. And how on earth would Gran know all of this?
‘Exactlylike you.’ Gran stares at me with wise eyes as if she’s known this fact about us both all along. She probably has. She’s got a gift when it comes to seeing into the heart of a person and what makes them tick.
‘I’ll wait and see what happens. If it’s meant to be I’ll know.’ Still, I can’t quite be that forthright, take-charge persona. And that’s OK. It’s not in my make-up.
‘But—’ Those three tiny letters are full of exasperation. ‘How will you know if neither of you speak up? Next minute it’ll be the most beautiful relationship thatneverwas!’
‘I just will.’
‘Evie, you’re going to let a good man like that slip between your fingers because you’re too scared to ask him if he sees anything serious between you both?’
How to explain it in a way that an extrovert over-sharer will understand? ‘It’s not just that – notonlythat. I feel a heap of guilt that this was all based on a lie. What if he finds out about our little ruse? He might hate me for it and question everything I’ve said and done. I knowIwould if our roles were reversed.’
She shakes her head and lets out a harrumph. ‘Why? It’s not like we did it for nefarious purposes. It wasn’t done maliciously. And look what it’s developed into! If you ask me I’ve done you one almighty favour because you two knuckleheads would’ve only stared at each other from afar with love hearts for eyes, never acting on your feelings. You’ll be eighty-three in the blink of an eye, Evie Davenport. It’s time to act. When it comes to love, there’s no other option except to allow yourself to become vulnerable. The payoff is worth it. Trust me, nine husbands later I can tell you that for a fact. I’ve loved and I’ve lost and I don’t regret a damn moment.’
‘That’s beautiful. Gran. And I agree. I do. I need to be more vocal, lay my heart on the line. What if he finds out about what we did down the track? It would be a hundred times worse. I’ll have to tell him soon.’ Gah. I wish I could get past it like Gran so easily has.
‘People do it all the time.’ Pee Wee runs past pawing a ball.
‘What? People fake-date all the time?’ I scoff. ‘Now you’rereallystretching, Gran.’
Gran drops her gaze back to the money she’s put in small piles. ‘Trust me, it’s a thing. Blind dates are virtually this! Be brave. Be bold and tell him how you’re really feeling – forget the fake part. And then you can see what happens.’
Can I broach this with him without mentioning the fact it was all a con – at first? No. God no. It’s too soon. It’s too much. I’ll stumble and mumble and then he’ll think I’m in the throes of some kind of panic attack which to be fair I probably will be. Feelings, they’re just somessy.
