‘Like I said, weird.’
‘And you were eighteen? What was it, first love?’
‘Nooo.’ Didi wondered if her nose was growing. ‘We weren’t together for that long. It was in our last year at school. Then we broke up and Shay went off to Australia.’ She shrugged, realising that she needed to say it. ‘And now he’s staying at the hotel.’
‘His loss, my gain. I bet he’s kicking himself now. How long’s he here for?’
‘No idea.’ Didi accelerated past an elderly man cycling along with a sheepdog on a lead.
‘Well let’s hope he doesn’t go getting any ideas.’ Aaron was chuckling. ‘You’re mine now.’
‘Are you actually from Victorian times?’
‘Don’t worry, just joking. Is he better-looking than me?’
‘Why? Are you jealous?’
He laughed and patted her knee. ‘Maybe a bit. Should I be?’
‘No. Haven’t you ever bumped into an old girlfriend from years ago?’
‘Ha, it happened once. I was invited along as a plus-one to a wedding and the bride turned out to be an ex from uni. I had no idea until she came walking up the aisle and we suddenly recognised each other.’
‘Oh my God, that’s brilliant. What happened?’
‘She said, “Aaron?” and I said, “Jules?” then she threw her arms around me, burst into tears and said, “How can I marry him? You’re the one I love. It’s only ever been you!”’
Didi grinned. ‘Very good. What really happened?’
‘She got married to the guy waiting at the end of the aisle. And later on, during the reception, she came over to me and said, ‘Hi, I knew I recognised you from somewhere . . . You’re Richard, yeah? You used to work in the petrol station on Falcondale Road.’
‘Ouch. And what did you say?’
‘What else could I do? She didn’t remember me at all, and I was mortified. I had to pretend to be Richard from the petrol station for the rest of the night.’
Didi burst out laughing. This was what she liked about Aaron. Every now and again he might do or say something a bit cringey, but he meant well, was kind-hearted and had the endearing ability to veer from overconfident to self-deprecating in the blink of an eye.
No, she didn’t like him, she loved him. And he loved her. She flexed the fingers of her left hand on the steering wheel, admiring the way the diamond glittered in the sunlight. It still startled her sometimes to see it there. But she’d get used to it soon, would be wearing it for the rest of her life. And in December she and Aaron would be getting married.
When Hillcrest came into view, the blue Audi was still parked on the drive, with Shay leaning against it. This time Didi put her foot down on the accelerator.
‘Look,’ Aaron marvelled. ‘Signs of life at that place at last. At least he doesn’t look like a squatter.’
Time for another split-second decision: to let Aaron know who it was or not? Shay turned and raised his hand in friendly recognition, nodding and smiling as they approached. Didi couldn’t help wondering if he’d estimated the time it would take her to return from collecting Aaron at the station, and had come outside in order to see them drive past.
‘Someone you know?’ said Aaron.
OK, so she was going to have to say it. Her foot pressed harder on the accelerator. ‘That’s Shay.’
Chapter 8
OK, so far, so surreal.
Layla had flirted with dating apps before, of course she had, but nothing had ever really come of it, apart from finding herself on the receiving end of incredulous messages from men who flat-out refused to believe she wasn’t lying to them. The general consensus was that she had to be a prostitute catering to nerdy types.
Basically, over the course of the last ten years, if she’d had a pound for every time someone had expressed surprise that she was an accountant . . . well, she wouldn’t need to be an accountant; she could just sit back and live off the proceeds instead.
But she wasn’t going to change the way she dressed or did her make-up; this was her, and it would just feel weird to wear plain clothes, discreet lipstick and sensible shoes. She couldn’t help her magpie tendencies; practically her whole life she’d found herself drawn like a magnet to the kind of outfits that other people automatically rejected because they were just too much.
As far as Layla was concerned, too much was never enough. And she knew perfectly well that it didn’t always work in her favour either professionally or personally, but wearing the clothes she did and looking the way she did meant more to her than conforming in order to please other people. It was her hobby and her passion so she did it anyway.
And today, for the first time in many months, she had an actual date with a man who looked and sounded perfect. Which, if everything worked out, would mean she owed it all to Shay Mason, because if it hadn’t been for Didi telling her the astonishing news about Shay’s just-sold business, she would never have re-downloaded the app.
Leave it all to Fait, that was the company’s advertising slogan . . . and now she was starting to feel as if it was all meant to be. OK, maybe it wasn’t realistically likely that tonight’s date would turn out to be The One, but it had to happen at some stage, and they were off to a good start because she’d searched for someone within a ten-mile radius and, like magic, there he’d been, a mere seven miles from Elliscombe.
Fingers crossed he’d live up to expectations.
Her phone buzzed with a text to let her know that Will had arrived and was waiting outside. Bang on time, as always. Layla grabbed her bag and all but danced out of her flat.
‘All dressed up.’ Will observed. ‘Looking good.’
‘Thank you. Feeling good!’ He probably didn’t mean it, but she didn’t care. Thanks to her aversion to driving, Will Osborne had been ferrying her around for years. A couple of years older than Layla, he’d spent his teens and early twenties caring for his widowed mother, who’d finally succumbed to her long-standing heart disease. It couldn’t have been easy for him, but he had never complained. He was the quiet, steady kind. Now he lived alone in the family’s small cottage on Comer Street and devoted himself to running the most efficient one-man taxi service in the Cotswolds.
‘Off out somewhere nice?’
‘Don’t faint.’ Layla lovingly smoothed the cherry-printed satin skirt over her lap. ‘I’m going on a date!’
‘Excellent. Where’d you meet him?’
‘Well, I haven’t yet. That’s going to happen in, ooh, about fifteen minutes from now.’
Will frowned. ‘You’re off on a date with a complete stranger?’
‘He’s not a complete stranger. I used a dating app. This is how these things happen nowadays.’ Layla laughed. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never tried it.’ Will had had a couple of girlfriends in the last few years, she knew that, but it wasn’t a subject they tended to discuss.
‘Too busy working.’ He shook his head and expertly reversed the taxi to execute a three-point turn in the driveway. ‘Doesn’t sound very safe.’
‘You sound like my mum,’ she retorted. ‘I’m not stupid, Will. If this guy invites me back to his place then tries to persuade me to climb into that big cooking pot on the stove, I’m planning on saying no.’