Could she have got it wrong? Had he ended the relationship because he’d thought she didn’t care? Confusion pulsed through her, beating in time with her heart, rushing along her veins.
However, she refused to let it show.
‘Why are we even discussing this?’ she persisted. What was the point? The past was done and dusted. Whatever they once had, or might have had, was over. Long gone.
‘Because since I’ve been back in Picklewick, I can’t get you out of my mind.’
‘But you… This can’t… ’she stammered, then tried again. ‘You’re leaving soon.’ She squeezed her eyes shut, opening them slowly.
‘I can stay for as long as I want. As long asyouwant.’
Incredulous, she said, ‘You’re serious.’
‘Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we’d stayed together?’
‘Yes,’ she breathed.
‘Is everything alright with your meals?’
Beatrice jumped. ‘Um, yes, fine, thanks.’ She had yet to taste a single morsel.
Mark waited until the server was out of earshot. ‘Shall we start afresh, see where it takes us? No promises, no recriminations.’
‘I knew it,’ she muttered.
‘Knew what?’
‘That this was a date. I thought you said it wasn’t?’
‘Do you want it to be?’
‘Doyou?’she countered.
‘I do. Very much. Can I kiss you at the end of it?’
‘Don’t push your luck, buster,’ Beatrice growled, but inside she was singing. This could be the start of something wonderful – for the second time.
Beatrice clung to Mark’s arm, giggling as she tried to get the words out. Walking whilst laughing fit to burst wasn’t easy, especially in these heels, even with him propping her up.
‘What about that time…?’ she began, then doubled over, tears running down her face.
Mark was laughing too, but she had a feeling he was laughing becauseshewas. ‘What time?’ he asked.
‘You know, when you— Oh god, I’m going to wet myself.’
‘Please don’t. You’ll ruin your shoes.’
Beatrice crossed her legs, wheezing as she tried to breathe through her laughter. ‘Stop, you’ve got to stop. I can’t take any more.’
She blamed her state of silliness on the wine. Since having the kids she’d become a lightweight. Two glasses and she was anyone’s.
They had begun reminiscing during the main course, and by the time they’d finished their coffees and were heading out ofthe door, they’d been laughing hysterically. It was a wonder Otto hadn’t thrown them out: trust her to bring down the tone of the place.
And now she looked like a drunk who needed help to get home. Thankfully there weren’t too many people strolling along Picklewick’s high street this evening to witness her debauchery.
Gradually she regained control and straightened up, uncrossing her legs. The control was fragile though, and she was likely to lose it at any moment. She could feel the giggles bubbling away beneath the surface, waiting for a chink in her armour to explode into hysterical life again.
‘I must look a mess,’ she said, dabbing at the skin underneath her eyes with the pad of her ring finger. The mascara was probably all down her face by now, and she bet her nose was red.
