‘What I actually meant was, instead of repeating your name, all I have to do is think about you and you appear.’
Shit. I did not just say that.
But I did, and his face lights up, brows that touch the sky and a mouth that forms a delighted ‘O’ as he chirps a laugh. ‘My, Katharine, that’s quite the revelatory statement.’
My cheeks flush watermelon red and I cannot believe I let that slip. After watching each other for a brief, intense moment, I worry my lip and turn away. Lemons, I need lemons. Do I need lemons? I don’t know. I don’t even care, but they’re as good a distraction as I can get right now.
‘You’re a long way from home,’ he says as he follows me.
‘So?’ I say. ‘I like this Tesco.’
‘Why this one?’ he asks. ‘Why not one closer to home?’
‘Because this one’s bigger.’
‘Oh, so it’s a size thing.’ He nods and purses his lips. ‘Got it.’
‘What?’ I squint in disbelief. ‘Where did that come from?’
I glance across to a man who’s trying desperately to pretend he can’t hear us as he sorts through the Granny Smiths. Shaking my head, I try and scuttle away from the fruit and veg, grabbing for a premix salad on my way.
‘What?’ Christopher chortles. ‘All I’m saying is that it’s bigger, so it’s a more satisfying experience for you.’
Dumbfounded, I stare at him.
‘You can get everything you need,’ he continues. ‘What? It’s logic, isn’t it?’
‘That’s not what you meant.’
‘Yes, it is,’ he says, with all the seriousness he can muster. ‘Katharine, you aren’t being crass, are you?’
‘And why are you here?’ I turn his question back on him. ‘It’s even further from home for you. Don’t you have alternatives?’
‘I do, but I like this one.’
‘All right.’ I offer a sideways glance and hitch my shopping basket higher on my arm as I move into the next aisle.
‘Actually, I’m glad you’re here.’ Christopher says, still hot on my tail.
‘Are you though?’ I ask, reaching for a packet of Hobnobs. ‘Really?’
He reaches for butter shortbread. How vanilla. ‘Absolutely. You see, I came to realise this afternoon that I have not been as professional as I could have been when speaking with you.’
‘No, no, don’t. I don’t want to do this here.’ I’m not even sure I’ve heard him right, and I look around nervously. I wonder if everyone here knows what I know, or if our conversation is somehow being broadcast on loudspeaker, because I’m feeling so exposed right now.
‘I really think we should,’ he says gently.
‘Nope.’ I shake my head and start to move away. ‘Nuh-uh.’
He grabs at my hand like he’s desperate to stop me leaping from a plane. Again. ‘Katharine, please.’
Stepping back slowly, I take in the sight of my hand encapsulated in his, warm, smooth and oversized. An involuntary thrill chases up my spine and catches in my throat. ‘Okay.’
‘I have been rude,’ he continues. ‘In fact, it would be fair to say I have been more than that.’
I swallow. Hard. He looks utterly distraught. I feel my bottom lip retreat because, as uncomfortable as he looks, he is giving me the most genuine apology I’ve ever heard in my life. It pains him. And it pains me, too, especially considering the conversations and realisations I’ve had today. While I keep my eyes fixed on him, because maybe this is all an apparition and he’ll vanish like a candle in the breeze, he cannot look at me.
I open my mouth, words scrambling my mind, but he stills me with a hand. That weird tinkly supermarket music scratches in the background. Though it’s at volume, there’s no chance of it matching the winter squall of blood tearing through my ears.
‘No, don’t interrupt me.’ His head dips. ‘I’m on a roll here.’
‘Sorry,’ I squeak.
‘I was incredibly blunt with you when we first met.’ He stares at a point on the ground as he scratches his forehead. ‘You obviously know I’d been chasing space at Webster and, when your father mentioned you worked there, I may have got a bit excited.’
‘Excited?’ I give up a snivelly laugh. ‘That was what you call excited? Christ.’
‘Well, no one’s ever shortened my name to Christ before, but if you like.’ He lifts his gaze to meet mine and, as it does, a dimple burrows its way into his cheek.
‘Oh, stop it, you.’ Laughter springs forth and crushes the iceberg that’s been sitting between us for weeks. ‘Your work wasn’t the arena I was in anyway, so it would never have been me knocking you back.’
‘And this afternoon.’ He draws a deep breath. ‘I was so out of line. I had no right to say the things I did, and I regret them immensely. It’s not my job to tell you how to run your business and I also don’t believe in wrapping apologies in excuses as it only serves to lessen the intent of said apology. So, I’m sorry.’
Before he’s even finished, I can feel my mouth and chin tighten in defiance of the blur in my eyes. I thumb away some tears and take a deep breath.
‘On the back of that, I’ve spent a lot of this afternoon thinking and, for what it’s worth, I would like to work with you,’ he says. ‘If you’ll still have me.’
I shake my head and laugh. ‘The catch?’
‘I’ll give you five or six pieces for a show,’ he says, stilling my obvious excitement with a finger. ‘If you take the rest of the class, too. There are some immensely talented people in that group who just need a leg up.’
‘You’re not budging on that, are you?’
‘A rising tide lifts all boats, and all that.’ He drops his chin into his neck and peers up at me from under dark eyelashes. ‘You’ll love them. And you will take commission.’
‘Look at you,’ I say with an amused scoff. ‘Give you an inch—’
‘Oh.’ He barks a laugh. ‘It’s much more than an inch.’
‘—and you take a mile.’ I feel my cheeks blossom under the weight of his words.
‘You of all people should know how hard it is to get paid in the arts, and I refuse to let you work for free.’
‘The gallantry,’ I say with a gasp, stepping further down the aisle. ‘Anyway, it may surprise you to know you weren’t the only one doing a bit of thinking today.’
‘No?’ With a small hand gesture, he offers to take my shopping basket. I let him, and the physical load it relieves almost feels like a metaphoric one, too.
‘Actually, it was more a chat with Dad.’ I stuff my hands in my pockets and trail along beside him.
‘I really like your father, for what it’s worth. Very insightful man.’
‘Well, as it turns out, insight was the order of the day.’
‘How so?’ Christopher asks.
‘I suspect I may also owe you an apology.’
‘You do, do you?’ He looks up at the ceiling and smiles brightly. ‘Today is a good day.’