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He was fairly short for a man – about 5’9 or 10’ – but he still towered over me.
‘So Esme McLeod,’ he said as we walked. ‘I’ve been in town for about two weeks now. How come today is the first time we’ve met?’
‘I just got here myself,’ I said.
‘So you’re a stranger here too?’ He gave me an eager grin. ‘How are you finding it?’
‘I’m not exactly a stranger,’ I said. ‘I grew up here. My mum runs the café – back there.’ I pointed back the way we’d come.
Brent’s eyes widened.
‘I love that place,’ he said. ‘It’s so cute. And the cakes – wow!’ He patted his very flat stomach. ‘I need to stay away from those.’
His over-enthusiastic response to everything was beginning to grate on me so I was pleased to see the path I needed to take.
‘I have to go,’ I said. ‘Enjoy your run.’
Brent was already bouncing on the spot, ready to jog off. He made me feel weary just looking at him.
‘Nice to meet you Esme McLeod,’ he said over his shoulder as he took off at a cracking pace. ‘See you around.’
Chapter 10
‘Bye Mum!’ I yelled as I shut the front door later that evening ‘Don’t wait up!’
Tucking a bottle of wine under my arm, I headed down the hill to Chloé’s house for dinner. Chloé had ended up living close to where she grew up, round the corner from her parents on the new estate, so the walk to her house felt like old times. It was freezing and the wind flapped my jeans against my legs and blew the rain into my face. I walked along hunched against the weather, looking forward to seeing Chloé again, but nervous about seeing her at home with her husband Rob, their little boy, Olly, and their baby, Matilda. Her home life was very different from my solo evenings in my flat with a bottle of wine and a Mad Men box set.
I turned into the new estate where Chloé lived. Her house was on the corner. A small trike lay on its side in the front garden and a muddy Land Rover stood in the drive. It all looked very grown up.
Suddenly nervous, I rang the doorbell. Footsteps thundered down the hallway towards me and I took a step backwards in alarm. Chloé opened the door, a cross, red-faced baby on her hip and a small boy with a wonky fringe and huge, curious brown eyes peeking out at me from behind her knees.
‘A picture of domestic bliss,’ I said, kissing Chloé on the cheek.
‘Not quite,’ she said wryly. ‘Olly, this is Esme. Say hello.’
I bent down and shook Olly’s tiny, slightly damp hand. He regarded me with mild interest.
‘I did a standing-up wee,’ he said solemnly.
‘How lovely,’ I said, standing up again and wiping my hand on my trousers. I was never sure what to say to small children. Olly raced off as Chloé pulled the wine out of my arms and beckoned to the kitchen.
‘Come on Mary Poppins,’ she said. ‘Let’s crack this open.’
I followed her down the hall, its walls covered in photos of the children, and into the kitchen. One end had been extended into a conservatory and the rain pounded noisily on the glass roof. Inside though it was warm and cosy. On the fridge were several of Olly’s drawings and a chart with gold stars on, and something that smelled delicious was bubbling on the hob. It all felt very homely and with a sudden burst of affection I hugged Chloé. She plopped Matilda on to the floor, where she began to wail in self-pity, and hugged me back.
‘This is gorgeous,’ I said over Matilda’s roars. ‘The house, the kids, everything.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I am lucky. Sometimes it’s hard to remember. But I’m so excited about my new job – it’s just perfect.’
She looked at me slyly.
‘Wasn’t it so weird that it just happened like that,’ she said, opening a drawer in search of a corkscrew. ‘One minute I’m chatting to Suky, the next I’m in the running for the perfect job.’
I took the bottle from her and found the corkscrew. ‘Very weird,’ I said without looking at her.
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