without getting his back up? She didn’t have Amy’s light touch and easy wit—the woman could have talked the birds down from the trees—and she didn’t want to blow her chance of getting closer to him.
It was obvious that he needed a friend right now though, judging by the way he wasn’t taking care of his appearance.
She watched him slouch back over to where she sat, his body language self-assured but just a little bit weary.
He gave her a questioning look and she realised that she had been staring at him again.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asked with one quizzical brow raised.
She gave herself a mental shake. ‘Yes, fine. Are you?’
He blinked slowly. ‘Yes. I’m fine, thanks, Flora.’
‘I was just thinking you looked a bit worn out.’
He sat down, rubbing a hand over his eyes. ‘Yeah, well, I’ve not been sleeping well recently.’
‘Hmm, I’m not surprised. It’s been a difficult few months for you, hasn’t it?’
He shrugged, then took a sip from his drink. ‘I guess.’
Apparently subtlety wasn’t going to cut it. She considered hedging around the subject of his failed relationship, which Amy had alluded to in her letter, but decided she might as well just go for it and see what happened.
‘So are you seeing anyone at the moment?’ she asked, attempting an offhand tone.
His shoulders stiffened at the question. He folded his arms, then frowned, as if something had just occurred to him. ‘Amy asked you to keep an eye on me, didn’t she?’
‘No!’ The lie came out before she had time to modify it. ‘I was just wondering, that’s all. Being friendly and taking an interest.’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ He looked at her steadily for one long, loaded moment and she felt her cheeks start to heat.
‘Okay, yes!’ she burst out defensively, unable to handle his intense scrutiny any longer. ‘Amy mentioned that you’d recently split up with someone and that she thought you were a bit cut up about it.’
‘I see. So that’s why you really called me, is it? To make sure I wasn’t about to jump off the Pulteney Bridge?’
Flora shook her head jerkily. ‘I wanted to see you so we could talk about Amy. You were the person that knew her best after all.’ There was an uncomfortable beat of silence while she took a shaky breath. ‘And I miss her.’ She felt the tears start to well in her eyes again and blinked them back. No way was she going to cry in front of him now.
Her words seemed to have had some sort of effect on him, because his posture relaxed and he reached over the table to put his hand on her forearm. Her skin tingled alarmingly under his touch, but she didn’t pull away. He probably needed some human contact too, she reminded herself.
‘Okay, yes.’ He sighed, a rueful smile appearing on his face.
‘Yes what?’ she asked, a little lost.
‘I am fairly recently out of a relationship, but I’m fine. I was cut up for a while because I thought it could become serious, but it didn’t work out. It’s okay though. I’m fine. Still in one piece,’ he said, taking his hand off her arm to thump his chest right over his heart.
His bravado had a false ring to it though. Maybe it was the repeated use of ‘fine’ or perhaps it was the flash of pain in his eyes that he hadn’t quite managed to conceal.
Her resolve strengthened. Obviously he was still hurting but wasn’t willing to talk about it with her. Well, she could bide her time. Perhaps once they’d got to know each other a bit better he’d soften and let her in. He probably needed to talk it all through with someone he trusted, and she was more than willing to become that person.
If only he’d let her.
* * *
Alex sat back in his chair with a sigh, feeling the burger and beer boosting his blood sugar levels and improving his irascible mood.
When Flora had questioned his relationship status he’d been ready to close her down fast, but had checked himself at the last minute. It was pretty clear she wasn’t the sort of person to take a brush-off lightly—she had fire and determination in those big, bright eyes of hers. He’d decided that an approximation of the truth would be the best course of action.
Hopefully she’d leave it at that now. He didn’t feel like rehashing the pain and misery of the last few months to satisfy the curiosity of a near stranger. Just because she’d been Amy’s closest friend didn’t mean she deserved his total trust and honesty.
Except it sort of did.
He sighed to himself, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with his sister in the hospice, the day she’d passed away.
‘She may seem as tough as nails,’ Amy had said, her voice weak and slurred from the painkillers they’d been pumping into her, ‘but she’ll need a friend once I’ve gone. Promise me you’ll be kind to her, Alex, especially if she comes to you looking for atonement. She’ll beat herself up about not being here to say goodbye.’
And it seemed his sister had been right.
It also looked as though he was going to have to keep the hurried promise he’d made to her as he’d watched her life ebb away.
He remembered now how her request had seemed like the only positive thing at a time when he’d felt so horrifically impotent, unable to do anything to save his sister. It had given him just a little sliver of power over the situation. He suspected Amy might have known that too.
‘I’m just going to the bathroom,’ he said, suddenly feeling an overwhelming need to escape from the poignant memories that were pressing in on his head like a vice.
‘Okay,’ Flora said, producing an overly bright smile, as if sensing his pain.
In the gents bathroom he stared at himself in the mirror, noting the dark rings around his bloodshot eyes and the unhealthy pallor of his skin. He’d not meant to get so drunk last night, but he hadn’t had the willpower to say no when his bandmates had suggested going to the pub after rehearsals. He’d also not been entirely straight with Flora earlier when he’d suggested that someone else had persuaded him to drink whisky until the early hours of the morning.
He’d done that entirely of his own volition.
Yesterday had been a difficult day and he’d felt the overwhelming need to get out of his head for a while and drown his raging thoughts. Music was usually his salvation, but it had become increasingly difficult to lose himself in it over the last few months and it was slowly driving him insane.
He slapped his cheeks, seeing colour bloom on his pale skin. Time to pull himself together.
Returning to the table, he bit back a wry smile as he noted how uncomfortable Flora looked perched on the edge of the bench, as if afraid that sitting on it fully might sully her impeccable image.
‘I
