What Might Have Been by Matt Dunn Page A

sandwich, and stuffed it into his mouth, wondering how on earth to tell Sarah that – given this morning’s developments – soon he might not have a mortgage, then looked up to find her smirking at him.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Your mouth. You’ve got . . . Hang on.’ She leaned across, took his face in her hands, and brushed his lips suggestively with the tip of her tongue. ‘Mayonnaise,’ she said, her mouth millimetres from his. ‘At least, I hope it was mayonnaise.’ Then she kissed him.
    And at that precise moment, Evan felt his legs go so weak he was glad he was sitting down.

9
    S arah sat at her desk and stared out of the window, replaying her and Evan’s lunchtime encounter in her mind. They’d kissed for what had seemed like hours before she’d realised where they were and had breathlessly broken away to finish her lunch in an awkward silence. Then she’d raised her eyebrows at what she’d assumed was Evan’s rude suggestion that she might fancy a quick ‘99’, but when he’d pointed to the nearby ice cream van and explained it was actually the name of some sort of ice cream cornet with a chocolate flake stuck into it – which had still sounded rude to her – she’d laughed, pointed to the rain clouds that were gathering overhead, and suggested they go back to his flat for a proper dessert instead. Though they hadn’t gotten much farther than the garage in Bermondsey where he parked his car – where they’d been interrupted by the grinning garage owner knocking on the windscreen – before she’d remembered that she in fact had a job to return to.
    As she was re-applying her lipstick in the cab she’d insisted on flagging down to take her back to the office, Sarah hadn’t been able to get the park’s incredible stories of self-sacrifice out of her mind. Would David ever be brave enough to do something like that? Sarah hoped so – though somehow she knew that Evan would. And it was then she knew she needed to have a little courage herself, and make a decision – and soon. She knew she owed them both that in return, at the very least.
    ‘Penny for your thoughts?’
    She looked up with a start. David was standing in her office doorway, and immediately she felt guilty.
    ‘Is that your best offer?’
    He smiled down at her, absent-mindedly fiddling with one of his cuff-links. ‘Well, how about dinner this evening?’
    Sarah regarded him for a moment. He was tall, his swept-back hair probably the same style he’d had since public school, impeccably dressed, and with strong, confident features, but handsome in more of a well-groomed way, rather than naturally good-looking – completely the opposite of Evan, she realised. ‘I can’t,’ she said, realising she had to play for time. ‘Tonight, I mean. I’m going out,’ she added, quickly.
    ‘Anywhere nice?’
    For a moment, Sarah worried he was angling for an invitation. ‘A jazz club,’ she said, and when David made a face, she knew she’d said the right thing. ‘Near London Bridge. There’s a friend of mine playing there.’
    ‘A friend?’
    Sarah hesitated, then thought what the hell? ‘Yes. His name’s Evan. He’s a musician.’
    ‘I guessed that from your use of the word “playing”.’ David smiled, then pulled his Blackberry out of his pocket and consulted the calendar. ‘How about tomorrow?’
    ‘Tomorrow?’ Sarah looked up at him, and realised Grace was right. If she was going to cool things with David, better to do that before things went any further, no matter how difficult that made things for her at work, and over dinner tomorrow might well be the perfect opportunity. Besides, David was a nice guy. Surely he wouldn’t do anything, well, nasty . She’d go to see Evan tonight, just to make sure, and then . . . well, if she did choose him, it would be much better to tell David over the weekend, and give him a day or so to get used to the idea.
    David was looking at her expectantly, his thumbs poised over his