Free You, Me and Him by Alice Peterson Page B

but … ‘Is Dominique
your
girlfriend?’
    ‘No.’
    I couldn’t hide my smile.
    Finn grabbed my hand and led me upstairs. We walked outside. ‘It’s too noisy in there,’ he said. He held a strand of my hair and twisted it slowly in his fingers. Was he finally going to kiss me? Just as his mouth came towards mine … ‘What are you going to wear?’
    He distracted me. ‘What am I going to wear when?’ I looked at him and he raised an eyebrow.
    ‘On our first date this Saturday, seven-thirty, I’ll be picking you up.’
    ‘A see-through lace black dress?’ Not that I owned one.
    ‘With what underwear?’ He was almost smiling again. ‘I mean, if the dress is see-through you’ve got to consider the underwear.’
    ‘Wait and see,’ I said, feeling utterly out of my depth. My ears were still ringing from the loud music.
    Finn scribbled my address on the back of his hand. ‘Better go, Christo needs me.’ He walked back into the restaurant.
    ‘Do you know where it is?’ I called after him. ‘It’s a blue door and next to …’ I was standing at the top of the stairs.
    Finn stopped abruptly and turned to me. ‘Don’t make it too easy. I’ll find you.’

CHAPTER EIGHT
    I’m sitting in our open-plan office, staring at the computer screen with an image of a passport on it, the stamps of various countries and the words in bold, Explore a World of Opportunity . I’m designing a poster for a language school and have to submit at least three different concepts for them to choose from.
    I finally drifted off to sleep at four last night. I need to get a grip on reality. What is the point of my saying anything now? All I’d be doing is hurting Finn and why would I want to do that? If I have lied about Clarky and me, then what else have I lied about? That’s what he’d think. He would never trust me again. Imagine how awkward it would be, let alone difficult for Clarky and me to have any kind of friendship afterwards. Each touch of the hand, hug, kiss on the cheek, would be misinterpreted because Finn would be looking for a reason to distrust us. He’d turn me into his mother.
    I don’t think he would ever forgive me.
    I’m not going to let one night jeopardise my marriage. It’s in the past and that’s where it should firmly stay.
    Tiana won’t tell Finn. So that only leaves Clarky, and I know he won’t say anything.
    What’s the time now? I have to get to George’s school by 3.30. Normally our neighbour Rose Billingham picks him up for me the three days of the week that I work. George calls her Mrs B. She dog-sits Rocky and looks after George as if he were one of her own grandchildren. She makes working life possible for me, but more importantly she is one of the few people who understand George. ‘I won’t stand no messing around,’ she always says. George has a great respect for her.
    I shall never forget the first time we met. It was when Finn and I had just moved to Shepherds Bush a year ago. When he became a Registrar his basic salary increased and we finally took the plunge and bought our first home together, a three-bedroomed terrace house. Finn and I had loved it the moment we stepped through the front door. The sitting room had glass doors opening on to the sunroom, and a kitchen with a stylish slate floor and Moroccan tiles over the walls. It had a great feeling of space and light. While we were still in the process of unpacking boxes and deciding what paint samples to go for there had been a knock on the door. I saw a shock of white hair, partly covered by a green hood with fur edging. ‘Hello, Rose Billingham. I live next door.’ Rose is Irish. She walked straight in, carrying a large orange earthenware dish. ‘Thought you’d like a lasagne.’ She placed it on the stove with such an air of authority anyone would have thought it was her home.
    I thanked her profusely before offering her a cup of tea. ‘Not that Earl Grey stuff. Builders’ tea, please.’ She took off her