wall outside one of the houses on the street. ‘We’ll just sit here for a moment, and my very kind – er – friend Esti will go and get you something to drink.’
‘Sure,’ says Esti.
Although, come to think of it, it was probably more of a sure? As in are you sure? Because the personal trainer guy gives a little nod of the head, and it’s only then that she jogs off in the direction of Starbucks.
I’m still a bit dazed, as I watch her pert, Lycra-clad buttocks round the corner and disappear.
‘Can we chat a little bit?’ the personal trainer asks. ‘Just so I can reassure myself you don’t have a terrible concussion, or anything equally alarming.’
‘Oh, yes, right.’ I glance at him. Wow. He’s even better-looking, now that I’m upright and a bit more sentient, than I realized. Once you can see past those incredibly bright-blue eyes and that vanilla-fudge skin, you get to see that he’s also got a handsome jawline, and full, soft lips, and … bloody hell, even his ears are attractive. ‘Are you supposed to ask me who the prime minister is, and stuff?’
‘Yeah, that’s the sort of thing. Days of the week might do, too.’
‘Ah. Trouble is, I’m never that good on days of the week even under normal circumstances. I had a head injury about a year ago, and even then I was never sure if I couldn’t name the day of the week because I was concussed, or because I honestly for the life of me can never remember if it’s a Tuesday or a Thursday.’
‘Oh, God, you’ve already had a recent head injury?’ He looks appalled. ‘Are you sure we shouldn’t be getting a cab to the hospital?’
‘I’m honestly fine. Besides, it was a year ago. And it’s Wednesday today. See?’
‘Impressive.’ He smiles at me, looking a little bit less stressed.
I smile back. ‘So, you work on this street, right?’
‘Sorry?’
‘The jacket. You’re a personal trainer, obviously. At FitRox.’
He glances down at his jacket and touches the logo for a moment. ‘That’s … well-spotted.’
‘My sister trained there a while ago, when she thought she might get a spot on Strictly Come Dancing.’
‘How … er … extraordinary.’
‘That she thought she might get a spot on Strictly Come Dancing? Well, in a way, yes, because she can’t really dance for toffee. But she is reasonably well known, so it wasn’t a total shot in the dark, I guess. I mean, she wasn’t just some random fan of the show, thinking she might get given a chance to go on it, or something …’ I’m blithering, I know. It’s the effect very handsome men have on me. ‘So, what’s your name?’ I add, because if I can get him talking, that ought to stop me.
‘Joel. My name’s Joel. I …’ He stops. He’s staring at me. ‘You know, Libby,’ he says, after a moment, ‘I’d really appreciate it if you’d do one thing for me.’
‘Sure. Anything.’
Though I’m not a hundred per cent certain that promising a strange man, even one as apparently nice as this one, that you’ll do anything is necessarily the most sensible idea I’ve ever had.
‘I mean, within reason, of course,’ I add, hastily.
‘God, yes, yes, of course.’ He fixes his blue eyes on to mine; they’re incredibly earnest and seem to be looking deep into me. ‘The question is, do you think it would be within reason for you to come out to dinner with me tonight?’
This is absolutely not what I was expecting.
‘I mean, you may not be free …’ he adds. ‘In fact, you may not even be single …?’
‘Oh, I’m single. And I’m free,’ I go on. ‘This evening. But … look, there’s really no need to take me out to dinner to apologize again.’
‘Then I won’t apologize again. For the entirety of our dinner, not a single word of regret or remorse shall pass my lips.’
I smile. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
‘Good. It’s settled, then. What works for you? I could come and pick you up from … sorry, do you live around here, or something?’
‘Yes, I live on this street. I’ve just moved in. Well, I’m living above my new studio, really – I’m a jewellery designer – and I don’t own it, or anything, it’s just …’ I stop myself blithering again. ‘Yes, you could pick me up here. I guess it’ll be convenient for you, too, after you’ve finished work?’
‘Yes, it will. So … eight-thirty?’
‘Yes. That would be lovely.’
‘Terrific. Shall we go for a drink first and then we can decide what we fancy. To eat, I mean,’ he adds, quickly. ‘Sound good?’
‘Sounds great.’
‘Great. Ah, here comes Esti, with the tea …’
And here, too, at the same moment, comes Bogdan, who must have glanced out of the window and seen me sitting on the wall over the road.
And who, I’ll wager, also spotted the incredibly handsome man sitting next to me.
‘Libby?’ He breaks into a little jog himself as he crosses the road. ‘What is surpassing?’
‘Nothing. Just a very small accident. This is a friend of mine,’ I say, hastily, to Joel, just in case he hasn’t noticed the rainbow trousers and the Harry Styles T-shirt, and thinks Bogdan is my boyfriend, or something. ‘And I should really let you get on with your run.’
‘I just got you an English Breakfast,’ Esti is saying, in a pretty indefinable accent of her own, as she reaches us. She hands over a large Starbucks cup. ‘Is that all right?’
‘It’s great, thank you, it’s really kind of you.’
‘OK, well, if you’re sure you’re OK,’ Joel says, getting to his feet, ‘we’ll leave you in the capable hands of … er …’
‘Bogdan,’ Bogdan intones, gazing at Joel with a similar expression on his face to the one he had when he was mooning about Grace Kelly earlier. ‘Am extra-delighted to be making the acquainting of you.’
‘Please,’ I say, rather desperately, ‘continue your run. I’ll see you this evening.’
‘Eight-thirty,’ Joel reconfirms. ‘Looking forward to it. See you later, Libby.
Bogdan and I stand and watch as Joel and Esti jog away in the general direction of the park.
‘Am never knowing,’ Bogdan says, in a marvelling whisper, ‘how you are doing it.’
‘How I’m doing what?’
‘Having
