observed. ‘I’ve been meaning to read that one too. It’s supposed to be great.’
Chelsea was very glad she had hidden away her self-help book.
‘Have you read his other stuff?’
‘I read Blink ,’ Chelsea told him. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her any questions about it. She couldn’t remember a word.
‘How about that one about success? What was it called?’
Chelsea didn’t know.
Fortunately, before Chelsea could show her ignorance, Lily interrupted, demanding a book of her own. Her father dug into his rucksack and handed over a book of fairy tales. With Lily taken care of, he turned straight back to Chelsea. Chelsea tucked her hair behind her ear in a manner her ex, Colin, had once pronounced ‘adorable’. Perhaps she would get her flirtation after all.
‘I’m Adam,’ he said, extending his hand.
‘Chelsea.’
‘Like the football team,’ Adam grinned. ‘Was your dad a fan?’
‘Ha! No,’ said Chelsea. ‘Mum chose my name because she liked the sound of it. Dad’s more of a rugby man. He played when he was younger.’
‘I used to play too,’ said Adam. ‘Haven’t for years. As you can probably tell.’ He pantomimed a bloated stomach.
No, thought Chelsea. You look pretty fit to me. Very fit indeed. She felt herself begin to grow warm in the cheeks and looked at her book cover so he couldn’t see her blushing. She racked her brains for something clever to say next but Lily saved her the trouble.
‘Daddy, stop talking to that lady and read this book to me.’
‘Duty calls.’
Adam excused himself and started reading to his daughter.
Though she opened the Gladwell again, even after such a brief exchange, Chelsea wasn’t really in the mood to concentrate on social science. Instead, she listened to Adam reading aloud from the tale of the Three Little Pigs. He was very good at it. He put plenty of character into the voices of the hapless piggies and their lupine nemesis. Chelsea had the idea that he was making an extra effort for her benefit.
She wondered what Adam’s own story was. Was Lily’s mother somewhere else on the plane and just taking advantage of the break from her daughter? Or was he travelling alone? If so, why? Divorced? Separated? Because he had been flirting with her, hadn’t he, when he talked about sharing the arm-rest and drew attention to his rugby player’s physique? How to find out the real situation? Chelsea longed for Lily to get tired of her father’s reading so she could get to know more.
Eventually the pigs worked out the value of building in brick and the story ended. Lily busied herself with colouring in the accompanying illustration using a packet of crayons retrieved from the cavernous rucksack.
‘I always travel with crayons,’ Adam explained. ‘I can’t tell you the number of times a packet of crayons has literally saved my life.’
Chelsea nodded. ‘I can imagine.’ She was thrilled to have Adam’s attention again. Thank you, Crayola.
‘So, what do you like to read apart from Gladwell?’ Adam asked.
Chelsea cast her mind back over the last five books she’d bought: Why Men Love Bitches , He’s Just Not Into You , Make Every Man Want You , Men Who Can’t Love and From Booty Call to Bride . Her colleague Serena had recommended that particular one to help Chelsea understand why her confirmed-bachelor ex should have changed his mind about marriage so quickly when he met the model. But the last thing Chelsea wanted was for Adam to know about her self-help habit, so she told him, ‘I bought the new Alex Marwood at the airport.’
‘Love those books. Really chilling.’
‘And I loved Hilary Mantel.’
‘ Wolf Hall ,’ Adam agreed. ‘Excellent novel.’
Chelsea hadn’t ever cracked the spine on her copy, but why did Adam need to know? This was going well. Really well. Chelsea didn’t think she’d had such an easy conversation with a man she actually liked the look of since she first met Colin. And they were flying to the
Chelsea was very glad she had hidden away her self-help book.
‘Have you read his other stuff?’
‘I read Blink ,’ Chelsea told him. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her any questions about it. She couldn’t remember a word.
‘How about that one about success? What was it called?’
Chelsea didn’t know.
Fortunately, before Chelsea could show her ignorance, Lily interrupted, demanding a book of her own. Her father dug into his rucksack and handed over a book of fairy tales. With Lily taken care of, he turned straight back to Chelsea. Chelsea tucked her hair behind her ear in a manner her ex, Colin, had once pronounced ‘adorable’. Perhaps she would get her flirtation after all.
‘I’m Adam,’ he said, extending his hand.
‘Chelsea.’
‘Like the football team,’ Adam grinned. ‘Was your dad a fan?’
‘Ha! No,’ said Chelsea. ‘Mum chose my name because she liked the sound of it. Dad’s more of a rugby man. He played when he was younger.’
‘I used to play too,’ said Adam. ‘Haven’t for years. As you can probably tell.’ He pantomimed a bloated stomach.
No, thought Chelsea. You look pretty fit to me. Very fit indeed. She felt herself begin to grow warm in the cheeks and looked at her book cover so he couldn’t see her blushing. She racked her brains for something clever to say next but Lily saved her the trouble.
‘Daddy, stop talking to that lady and read this book to me.’
‘Duty calls.’
Adam excused himself and started reading to his daughter.
Though she opened the Gladwell again, even after such a brief exchange, Chelsea wasn’t really in the mood to concentrate on social science. Instead, she listened to Adam reading aloud from the tale of the Three Little Pigs. He was very good at it. He put plenty of character into the voices of the hapless piggies and their lupine nemesis. Chelsea had the idea that he was making an extra effort for her benefit.
She wondered what Adam’s own story was. Was Lily’s mother somewhere else on the plane and just taking advantage of the break from her daughter? Or was he travelling alone? If so, why? Divorced? Separated? Because he had been flirting with her, hadn’t he, when he talked about sharing the arm-rest and drew attention to his rugby player’s physique? How to find out the real situation? Chelsea longed for Lily to get tired of her father’s reading so she could get to know more.
Eventually the pigs worked out the value of building in brick and the story ended. Lily busied herself with colouring in the accompanying illustration using a packet of crayons retrieved from the cavernous rucksack.
‘I always travel with crayons,’ Adam explained. ‘I can’t tell you the number of times a packet of crayons has literally saved my life.’
Chelsea nodded. ‘I can imagine.’ She was thrilled to have Adam’s attention again. Thank you, Crayola.
‘So, what do you like to read apart from Gladwell?’ Adam asked.
Chelsea cast her mind back over the last five books she’d bought: Why Men Love Bitches , He’s Just Not Into You , Make Every Man Want You , Men Who Can’t Love and From Booty Call to Bride . Her colleague Serena had recommended that particular one to help Chelsea understand why her confirmed-bachelor ex should have changed his mind about marriage so quickly when he met the model. But the last thing Chelsea wanted was for Adam to know about her self-help habit, so she told him, ‘I bought the new Alex Marwood at the airport.’
‘Love those books. Really chilling.’
‘And I loved Hilary Mantel.’
‘ Wolf Hall ,’ Adam agreed. ‘Excellent novel.’
Chelsea hadn’t ever cracked the spine on her copy, but why did Adam need to know? This was going well. Really well. Chelsea didn’t think she’d had such an easy conversation with a man she actually liked the look of since she first met Colin. And they were flying to the
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