is that your new job? Health food stuff?’ Tig leaned in, engaged by the idea that Ollie might have been a different type of person, that he had looked different before. A fat chef. But he looked so at home in his body. So proud of it. He owned it, like you would never have known. Maybe he wasn’t really a fat chef, in the same way those popular girls at school would go on fad diets to lose three pounds, when they were waifs to begin with. It’s just what you say, isn’t it?
The waiter returned with the wine, and a series of appetisers, each so delicious that Tig actually moaned upon chewing. They sat quietly for a few moments, savouring the tastes. Ollie didn’t turn around but simply raised his arm and put a thumbs up. Tig was facing the kitchen and saw the chef grin and nod at himself, proud and contented.
‘Did you design this menu?’
Ollie nodded, clearly fighting his ego, and failing at being modest about it. ‘I was brought in to fix up the menu, give it a little boost. The last chef was a waste of space. I came in, trained up these guys and set the new menu in place.’
‘So we’re here because you wanted to show off?’ Tig smirked knowingly.
‘We’re here because I wanted to be able to grab you from Entangled, and I know the food is good,’ Ollie insisted, ‘though bragging is part of the appeal. It could have gone the other way – if the menu had screwed up, I could have gone all Gordon Ramsay on the chef, and you would have run away screaming.’
‘Well, there’s always next week,’ she smiled, and held up her wine glass to his. ‘Here’s to new adventures, and taking chances.’
‘Changed your tune now you know I can feed you.’
Tig laughed. ‘Women are very practical.’
The meal passed more smoothly after that, talking about food and drink, different places in London they loved, places they’d like to go.
As they left the restaurant, the chef came round and hugged Ollie, thanking him for the opportunity, promising to make him proud. Ollie rested his hand on Tig’s back as they walked along.
‘You going to the tube station?’ he asked.
‘Yep. Hampstead,’ she shrugged. ‘You?’
‘Highgate.’
Her eyes raised. ‘Ooh, well, chefs get paid well, don’t they?’
‘It’s my mate Harry’s. You were chatting to his girlfriend in Entangled earlier?’
‘Tabby?’
‘Yeah, so I came over to visit, and they couldn’t be bothered to rent his flat out while they were travelling, so they said I could stay there.’ He paused. ‘Tabby was the one who got me the job at Entangled, actually.’
‘Wow …’ Tig said, secretly wondering if it was rude to ask what their life was like.
Ollie paused. ‘Besides, you live in Hampstead – that’s way more posh.’
Tig shrugged. ‘It’s my friend Ame’s house – she got divorced and doesn’t like staying there alone.’
‘Living in the realm of broken dreams?’
‘Something like that.’ Tig paused and looked at him. ‘You know we haven’t actually talked about anything real this evening?’
‘I think talking about Breaking Bad for an hour is very real, thank you.’
She grinned. ‘No, I mean, I don’t know where your new job is, or why you have an American accent. You don’t know what I do for a living …’
‘Ah, yes, but I know that you hate coconut milk, and love noodles. That you prefer red wine to white, that you have a stationery addiction and like black and white movies. Those are the things that make a person.’
‘Oh, really?’ Tig pulled a face, trying not to be impressed at his observations as they walked down the stairs into the Underground station. ‘Then how come I feel like I haven’t learnt anything about you at all?’
‘It’s my air of mystery, Tigerlily. I’m all aloof to keep you coming back for more!’
It’s kind of working, she thought to herself with irritation. Although it was almost disappointment in herself that she hadn’t picked up all the things he’d realised about her. She’d been too busy being shocked at how easy it all was, to eat, drink, have a conversation about meaningless, fun things. She had noticed some things, though. The way his eyelashes fluttered when he laughed, and the crinkles around his eyes as he grinned. The way he pursed his lips just before he was about to say something funny, and that he seemed to chew each piece of food about a hundred times, focusing on getting each individual flavour. But none of these were things she could say. They were just … somehow Ollie. This strange man she didn’t know anything about. Except that he could feed her.
‘Shit, train’s coming!’ Ollie grabbed her hand, and together they ran down the steps, out onto the platform, and jumped on just as the doors were closing.
‘There would have been another in five minutes!’ she gasped.
‘But where would the fun have been in that?’
‘You just wanted to hold my hand!’ she teased as the train left the station, holding up their still intertwined fingers.
‘Aren’t I a scoundrel?’ Ollie grinned at her, standing too close in the cramped carriage. He let go of her hand, but put it around her back. ‘Just to keep you steady.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Tig said knowingly, but her chest started pounding. Stop it, you idiot. ‘What train are we on?’
‘Edgware – I’m afraid I’m off at the next stop.’
‘Well, thank you for a lovely evening,’ Tig said formally. ‘It was less terrifyingly awkward than I anticipated.’
‘Well, if that isn’t a glowing reference, I don’t know what is!’ Ollie grabbed her hand dramatically and kissed it. ‘I bid you goodnight, Tigerlily James, and look forward to our next encounter!’
Tig blushed and looked around at the other people in the carriage, who were all resolutely avoiding eye contact, but seemed to be smirking.
‘Women! You say all you want is romance, and Mister-sodding-Darcy, and the minute we give in, you freak out!’ Ollie jumped off the train onto the platform, waving. ‘Night!’
And he was gone, vaulting along the platform in long strides. Strange, strange man, Tig grinned to herself, and realised her face hurt from how much she’d smiled that evening. Which was great, but also a little sad that she was so out of practice.
So this is what dating is, she thought to herself, saying clever things and being quick and not giving anything away. She found it exhausting and exhilarating. Just like Ollie himself.
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