Free When I Wasn't Watching by Michelle Kelly Page B

that lay between the City Hall and the main station, no doubt causing the officers some extra work. Although she had applauded their efforts Lucy thought it strange that in the angry crowd of faces, all of them there because of her child – she had even spotted a home-made banner calling for ‘Justice for Jack’ – there hadn’t been one she recognised. No one who had ever even met either her or Jack.
    Lucy smiled and opened her mouth to say something upbeat, but Matt reached over the table and closed a hand over hers.
    â€˜Lucy, you don’t need to put a face on, not with me.’
    As sudden tears stung at her eyes Lucy pulled her hand away, more sharply than she meant to, nearly knocking the bottle of wine over until Matt caught it with a deft flick of his wrist. Lucy was impressed.
    â€˜Good reflexes.’
    â€˜I used to box.’
    Lucy looked at his broad shoulders and defined arms that his shirt couldn’t fail to highlight.
    â€˜That fits. You look like a boxer, rather than a cop.’
    Matt laughed.
    â€˜Should I take that as a compliment?’
    â€˜Maybe.’ She was flirting with him again, she realised, except this time it was natural rather than a contrived effort on her part. Aware of the attraction he felt for her, for the first time she felt the stirrings of desire on her own part, completely independent of who he was and how they were involved.
    Although the question she needed to ask him still waited on her lips, it occurred to her that she could allow herself this at least; to sit opposite an attractive man and feel like a young woman again, with all the needs and desires of a young woman, that had been lying dormant under the weight of her grief.
    Her leg brushed his under the table. It was an accident, or at least an unconscious movement, but when Matt didn’t move his leg away, only looked at her with a smile playing around the corners of his mouth, she realised he thought she had done it on purpose and felt her cheeks heat up.
    â€˜Shall we order?’
    She nodded and grabbed the menu, glad he had broken the loaded silence, and looked at the menu without seeing it, the words swimming in front of her eyes.
    â€˜I’m having Bolognese,’ Matt told her, ‘not very original I know, but I don’t know what half of the things on that menu are. Why can’t they just write them in English?’
    Lucy laughed.
    â€˜That’s not very cosmopolitan, inspector.’
    â€˜Will you please call me Matt? You’re making me feel old. But yeah, I’m a pie and potatoes man to be honest.’
    â€˜Not steak and raw eggs? Isn’t that what you testosterone-fuelled boxer types eat?’
    â€˜I think that’s bodybuilders,’ Matt laughed, ‘but what are you having? Salad?’
    â€˜God no. I’ll have the Bolognese as well.’
    They smiled at each other as Lucy took another sip of her wine. There was a pleasant warmth in her belly now that was as much due to laughter as alcohol.
    â€˜You know, you’re surprisingly easy to be around. Even yesterday, when you brought Ricky back, it was nice to talk to you. I’ve been isolated lately.’
For a long time
, she added to herself.
    â€˜I can imagine,’ he said, leaning over as if he would say something more, but paused when the waitress came over to take their order. The girl’s eyes lingered on Matt as he ordered for them and Lucy felt a simultaneous stab of jealousy – the waitress was young, pretty and wearing a ridiculous tight uniform that showed every inch of her to full effect – and a
frisson
of pride that he was sitting with her. Always with Ethan she had felt out of her league, wondering if the young women who flirted with the handsome surgeon looked at her with disdain.
What is he doing with her?
She didn’t feel like that with Matt, and wondered if it was a confidence that came with age, or more to do with Matt himself. The