Free Something Hidden by Kerry Wilkinson Page A

thing. We had nothing in common.’
    ‘Why did you start seeing her?’
    Andrew threw his hands up, trying to make it seem like he didn’t know. He could hardly say that sex was great with Sara, even though he couldn’t stand to actually have a conversation
with her.
    Keira giggled slightly. ‘Eight years is a long time for “nothing serious”.’
    Andrew started to answer and then realised the implication. Did that mean
she’d
had something significant with someone else in that time? Or was she speaking for both of them? He
should probably just ask. The obvious truth was that he’d not had a full-on relationship with anyone else because no one else was Keira. He could hardly tell her that, though.
    Or maybe he should?
    No, he definitely shouldn’t.
    Or maybe he should?
    Stop it!
    He felt like he was fourteen again, unsure how to talk to the opposite sex. Back then it was Jane Harris with her breasts that had developed before any of the other girls’. They’d
known each other since they were five years old; their mums took them for picnics when they were kids; they’d played with Lego together and, even as young teenagers, Jane continued to speak
to him in public, despite having cooler friends. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to ask her out, instead ogling her chest from across the classroom, while pretending he was looking at the
poster on the wall behind her.
    ‘Me neither, if you’re wondering,’ Keira said, reading his mind again.
    Andrew pushed his plate to one side, hoping the waiter would spot it as the woman behind spluttered into laughter once more. Didn’t she realise they were trying to have a serious
conversation over here? Keira caught his eye, grinning at the inconvenience, before peering over his shoulder towards the woman who was currently snorting like a rabid piglet.
    ‘Don’t look now,’ Keira said, ‘but the bloke she’s with currently has a straw hanging from each nostril.’
    ‘And she’s laughing at that?’
    Keira’s blue eyes drifted back to Andrew again, smirking at him in a way her lips weren’t.
    ‘So . . . what have you been up to?’ he asked.
    By the time the words had escaped from Andrew’s mouth, he was already wishing they hadn’t. He really did say some stupid things. Weren’t human beings supposed to have a sort of
filter that made them think things through before the words flopped out of their mouths? He was asking her to condense more than eight years of break-up into a neat, snappy soundbite. What was the
best that could happen?
    Before she could reply, the waiter returned to clear the table. He’d definitely be getting a healthy tip, if only for the perfection of his timing. What a hero . . . until he left.
    ‘I’ve been working for my dad,’ Keira replied, making Andrew shudder at the memory of his former father-in-law. ‘He retired from the bank a few months ago but is still
running a charitable division for them. It’s not a lot of work but he gets to decide where the money goes. Charities and other organisations can apply for grants to get their projects up and
running. I’d wanted to go back to work with kids for a while but he made me apply like anyone else. I have a project that’s helped create these before-school breakfast clubs around
south Manchester. It makes sure they all get meals, plus allows their parents to go to work.’
    Andrew was still reeling from the news that she was working for her father. The image of him was as terrifying as it had always been.
    ‘That sounds good,’ he said, autopilot kicking in again. What else could he say? ‘Good stuff with the kids. Oh, but your dad’s a bit of an arse’?
    ‘Schools don’t really have money for things like that,’ Keira continued. ‘They were looking for external funding. We’ve been able to get the kids painting and
creating, or catching up on homework. Last summer, we even had sports. It’s beginning to take off and some schools are looking at bringing it back