apologies for the night before over with. “I thought you’d be totally exhausted, but you seem to be buzzing.” He patted my leg, stood up and made his way over to the kettle.
“I think I passed through tired about three hours ago,” I said, “and no thanks.”
“Vic rang for you last night, by the way.”
“Oh great!” I said quickly. “I’ll call her back in a bit—she’ll love the story about the Dalai Lama. I told you about that, right?”
“You might have mentioned it,” Tom said, shooting me an amused look. “Oh, and your mum rang too.”
“What? Why? I told her and Dad I was going away. They never bloody listen.”
“She wants you to have a chat with Phil about the importance of working hard in your last year. Apparently, he’s not really getting down to studying for his finals as he should be. I told her to ring you on the mobile but she said it’d be too expensive and could you call when you got back. Now, at the risk of me pissing you off again by talking about house stuff,” he held up his hands defensively, “all I need to tell you is that the bloke is moving in on Friday and his name’s Paolo. At least I think it is. We had a couple of language problems on the phone.”
“Maybe I’ll teach him better English and he can teach me Spanish once he moves in,” I said brightly. “I’ve always wanted to learn.”
Tom raised an eyebrow and said, “How much coffee did you have on this flight back?”
“I’m just happy,” I said. Surely it wasn’t that hard for him to believe? I felt slightly irked that he assumed my good mood was in fact hysteria-induced tiredness or a caffeine overload. “LA rejuvenated me!” I exclaimed. “That’s a good thing, don’t you think?”
“I think,” Tom said, coming over and pulling me off the sofa, then wrapping me in a bear hug and planting a kiss on the top of my head, “that you’re very cute and it’s nice to see you smiling again. You’ve had a lot on your plate with the business and Vic going to Paris and everything. It’s about time some positive things started to happen for you. Trust me, Al.” He paused. “There are good times ahead.”
“I hope so.” I leaned my head on his chest and closed my eyes.
“I know so.” He began to twirl me lightly on the spot.
“You really enjoyed this trip to the States, didn’t you?” he said after we’d been standing there companionably for a moment or two in silence, just hugging.
“Yeah, I did,” I said. “It was fun. Why?”
“No reason.” He hugged me a little tighter. “No reason at all.”
Vic, however, was a little confused when I recounted the LA jaunt to her on the phone later: “But I thought you were trying to knock that sort of fluffy stuff on the head?”
“I was,” I said, folding my legs under me and sipping a tea, shivering a little. England was cold. I thought longingly of the hot tub.
“So how come you said yes?”
“Money, honey.” I shrugged.
“Ah, the evil lure of the dollar,” Vic conceded. “Fair enough. So was LA full of fakes, flakes and freaks?”
“Actually no,” I said. “I had a really good time! The weather was great—I’m so effing freezing back here—and we had a really good laugh, although mostly because of Gretchen. Everyone stared at her so blatantly during the shoot, Vic, you wouldn’t believe. She took it all in her stride, though. God, I felt hung over on the plane back.”
“Sounds like you had fun. How’s Tom?”
“Fine,” I said dismissively. “Well, I say that, but just before I left he started blathering on about getting a mortgage, saying they were just as much of a commitment as getting married—but since I got back he’s not said a word more about it, the big weirdo. Talking of which, can you even believe I saw the Dalai Lama?”
“I know,” Vic agreed. “Who’d have thought His Holiness would be hanging out in Beverly Hills?”
“Pasadena actually,” I corrected. “It was at the hotel
“I think I passed through tired about three hours ago,” I said, “and no thanks.”
“Vic rang for you last night, by the way.”
“Oh great!” I said quickly. “I’ll call her back in a bit—she’ll love the story about the Dalai Lama. I told you about that, right?”
“You might have mentioned it,” Tom said, shooting me an amused look. “Oh, and your mum rang too.”
“What? Why? I told her and Dad I was going away. They never bloody listen.”
“She wants you to have a chat with Phil about the importance of working hard in your last year. Apparently, he’s not really getting down to studying for his finals as he should be. I told her to ring you on the mobile but she said it’d be too expensive and could you call when you got back. Now, at the risk of me pissing you off again by talking about house stuff,” he held up his hands defensively, “all I need to tell you is that the bloke is moving in on Friday and his name’s Paolo. At least I think it is. We had a couple of language problems on the phone.”
“Maybe I’ll teach him better English and he can teach me Spanish once he moves in,” I said brightly. “I’ve always wanted to learn.”
Tom raised an eyebrow and said, “How much coffee did you have on this flight back?”
“I’m just happy,” I said. Surely it wasn’t that hard for him to believe? I felt slightly irked that he assumed my good mood was in fact hysteria-induced tiredness or a caffeine overload. “LA rejuvenated me!” I exclaimed. “That’s a good thing, don’t you think?”
“I think,” Tom said, coming over and pulling me off the sofa, then wrapping me in a bear hug and planting a kiss on the top of my head, “that you’re very cute and it’s nice to see you smiling again. You’ve had a lot on your plate with the business and Vic going to Paris and everything. It’s about time some positive things started to happen for you. Trust me, Al.” He paused. “There are good times ahead.”
“I hope so.” I leaned my head on his chest and closed my eyes.
“I know so.” He began to twirl me lightly on the spot.
“You really enjoyed this trip to the States, didn’t you?” he said after we’d been standing there companionably for a moment or two in silence, just hugging.
“Yeah, I did,” I said. “It was fun. Why?”
“No reason.” He hugged me a little tighter. “No reason at all.”
Vic, however, was a little confused when I recounted the LA jaunt to her on the phone later: “But I thought you were trying to knock that sort of fluffy stuff on the head?”
“I was,” I said, folding my legs under me and sipping a tea, shivering a little. England was cold. I thought longingly of the hot tub.
“So how come you said yes?”
“Money, honey.” I shrugged.
“Ah, the evil lure of the dollar,” Vic conceded. “Fair enough. So was LA full of fakes, flakes and freaks?”
“Actually no,” I said. “I had a really good time! The weather was great—I’m so effing freezing back here—and we had a really good laugh, although mostly because of Gretchen. Everyone stared at her so blatantly during the shoot, Vic, you wouldn’t believe. She took it all in her stride, though. God, I felt hung over on the plane back.”
“Sounds like you had fun. How’s Tom?”
“Fine,” I said dismissively. “Well, I say that, but just before I left he started blathering on about getting a mortgage, saying they were just as much of a commitment as getting married—but since I got back he’s not said a word more about it, the big weirdo. Talking of which, can you even believe I saw the Dalai Lama?”
“I know,” Vic agreed. “Who’d have thought His Holiness would be hanging out in Beverly Hills?”
“Pasadena actually,” I corrected. “It was at the hotel
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