some napkins and a centre piece. I had planned to forget about the whole thing, but since you’re here too I thought I should try to make an effort.”
“I wouldn’t have minded. Just being here with you beats my plans.”
“Which were? If you weren’t expecting Carl, what had you planned to do?”
“Not a lot.”
“You weren’t going to family?”
“No.” He looked at her for a fleeting moment and then went back to placing cutlery in the table.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry.” But she wanted to know why he wasn’t going home.
“It’s not a big deal, really.” He shrugged before continuing. “They pushed me so hard when I was at school. By the time I’d left college I was burned out. We had a big argument, and I ended up in Hawaii with Carl against their wishes. They kind of disowned me for a while. Then when I came back to England, and decided to earn some money in the City, they expected everything to go back to how it was, as if they’d won.”
“Oh, I didn’t know things were bad between you and them. You never said.”
“Stiff upper lip, you know. I was a public school boy, they had spent all this money on my education, I suppose they had a right to freak out. But they tried to push me into doing things I knew would kill me emotionally. I was young, and when Carl said about going to Hawaii, I wanted that freedom. Stupid thing is, if they had just let me go I’d have had a vacation, had some fun, and then gone home and buckled down again. I had never rebelled until then.”
“Parents. They are bad for you, you know.” She hadn’t meant to say that, so she covered it up by adding. “You know Max had to stand up to hers.”
“Yes, you said. I love mine, but they never once treated me as an adult. I respect them, but they just don't get me. It all started again when I left my job and opened the gallery. So I decided not to put myself through it this Christmas. I’m happy, I don’t need them telling me I shouldn’t be.”
She placed a plate down in front of him, and then sat opposite him before asking, “A gallery. That is a strange choice of career for a city boy.”
“I know. But I love how people who paint are free to express themselves in such different ways. Every artist sees something different in the thing they paint. No two are ever the same. Especially the great masters. I wanted some of that to rub off on me. I want to be unique.”
She laughed, nearly choking on her food. “Is that why you took a shine to me. Max is always telling me how unique I am. Sometimes I don’t think it’s a compliment.”
“Well, it should be. You are never afraid of anything. I can’t see that you would run away from criticism.”
“I’ve run away plenty. Don’t think you know everything about me Greg. We all have pasts, some worse than others.”
“A woman of mystery. Now I am intrigued,” he teased.
She placed her fork down, and looked at him sadly. “You wouldn’t be. If you knew the truth about me you’d probably be out of that door like a shot.”
“Hey, Robin. There’s little you could say to me that would make me leave, honestly.”
“You can’t say that. You don’t know.”
“And are you going to tell me?”
“I have to, don’t I? You asked me earlier if this was a brief fling. Well, that might not be my decision. You might decide to dump me.”
He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers, squeezing it gently. “I’m ready to listen, and not judge, whenever you want to tell me. OK?” he asked, she looked down at her half eaten food, he squeezed her hand again. “OK?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“So do you want to talk now or later?”
“Later, let’s finish eating, and perhaps open a bottle of wine. Then we’ll talk.”
“We’ve got all day, and all night, Robin. So take your time.”
She looked up and smiled at him. “Thank you, Greg.”
He smiled. “You are welcome. And don’t worry, having Carl for a friend for so
“I wouldn’t have minded. Just being here with you beats my plans.”
“Which were? If you weren’t expecting Carl, what had you planned to do?”
“Not a lot.”
“You weren’t going to family?”
“No.” He looked at her for a fleeting moment and then went back to placing cutlery in the table.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry.” But she wanted to know why he wasn’t going home.
“It’s not a big deal, really.” He shrugged before continuing. “They pushed me so hard when I was at school. By the time I’d left college I was burned out. We had a big argument, and I ended up in Hawaii with Carl against their wishes. They kind of disowned me for a while. Then when I came back to England, and decided to earn some money in the City, they expected everything to go back to how it was, as if they’d won.”
“Oh, I didn’t know things were bad between you and them. You never said.”
“Stiff upper lip, you know. I was a public school boy, they had spent all this money on my education, I suppose they had a right to freak out. But they tried to push me into doing things I knew would kill me emotionally. I was young, and when Carl said about going to Hawaii, I wanted that freedom. Stupid thing is, if they had just let me go I’d have had a vacation, had some fun, and then gone home and buckled down again. I had never rebelled until then.”
“Parents. They are bad for you, you know.” She hadn’t meant to say that, so she covered it up by adding. “You know Max had to stand up to hers.”
“Yes, you said. I love mine, but they never once treated me as an adult. I respect them, but they just don't get me. It all started again when I left my job and opened the gallery. So I decided not to put myself through it this Christmas. I’m happy, I don’t need them telling me I shouldn’t be.”
She placed a plate down in front of him, and then sat opposite him before asking, “A gallery. That is a strange choice of career for a city boy.”
“I know. But I love how people who paint are free to express themselves in such different ways. Every artist sees something different in the thing they paint. No two are ever the same. Especially the great masters. I wanted some of that to rub off on me. I want to be unique.”
She laughed, nearly choking on her food. “Is that why you took a shine to me. Max is always telling me how unique I am. Sometimes I don’t think it’s a compliment.”
“Well, it should be. You are never afraid of anything. I can’t see that you would run away from criticism.”
“I’ve run away plenty. Don’t think you know everything about me Greg. We all have pasts, some worse than others.”
“A woman of mystery. Now I am intrigued,” he teased.
She placed her fork down, and looked at him sadly. “You wouldn’t be. If you knew the truth about me you’d probably be out of that door like a shot.”
“Hey, Robin. There’s little you could say to me that would make me leave, honestly.”
“You can’t say that. You don’t know.”
“And are you going to tell me?”
“I have to, don’t I? You asked me earlier if this was a brief fling. Well, that might not be my decision. You might decide to dump me.”
He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers, squeezing it gently. “I’m ready to listen, and not judge, whenever you want to tell me. OK?” he asked, she looked down at her half eaten food, he squeezed her hand again. “OK?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“So do you want to talk now or later?”
“Later, let’s finish eating, and perhaps open a bottle of wine. Then we’ll talk.”
“We’ve got all day, and all night, Robin. So take your time.”
She looked up and smiled at him. “Thank you, Greg.”
He smiled. “You are welcome. And don’t worry, having Carl for a friend for so
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