Alphabet Weekends - Elizabeth Noble [98]
It had seemed like a good idea to do something physical. She’d thought about reiki, but she could imagine Tom’s incredulous face… She’d Googled leisure activities in town, and this place had popped up. R for Rock-climbing.
It had been Bridget’s idea to come for a few lessons. ‘That’ll spook him,’ she’d said, ‘if you can do something he can’t.’
Good idea. Except that she was sixty pounds worse off, her arse was still like a sack of potatoes in a triangle of web bing, and she still couldn’t do it. And Tom bloody well could.
He’d pronounced her choice ‘epic’, said he and Rob had been meaning to come ever since it had opened in the autumn and hurried off to get himself fitted for a helmet. In which he did not look like a complete idiot. Natalie’s was too big and kept slipping sideways so that the tip of one ear caught on the rim. She had sworn Thaddeus to secrecy, and now she winked at him. ‘I have not.’
‘Okay.’ He clearly did not believe her.
Natalie felt a flush of irritation. ‘Did it never occur to you, Tom, that I might actually have physical aptitude for something?’
‘Not really.’ He sniggered. ‘I see you more as a cerebral girl.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘But it’s fantastic. Brilliant that you like it. We can come again.’
Not if she had anything to do with it. ‘We certainly can.’ She started climbing. Maybe if she went faster it would be easier. She looked frantically above her head for a Smartie within reach. A green one, over there. Or this blue one. Her trainer slipped, her chin smacked on to an orange one as she fell, and five seconds later she had slammed backwards into the wall, with a handhold rammed into her kidney. ‘Tom?’
‘You okay?’ He was considerate enough to keep the snigger out of his voice.
‘Can I get down now?’
Thaddeus brought her an ice pack, and she sat in the padded section reserved for children under five, watching, while Tom finished the session. Which meant getting to the top on all five of the walls, including the one with the overhang. And took an hour. Her chin throbbed, and her kidney ached. ‘If I pee blood, it’s your fault,’ she said ruefully, when he finally appeared.
‘You can have one of my kidneys.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘I’ll buy you dinner – your choice.’
‘Fish-and-chip supper?’
‘I’d have sprung for French.’
‘I don’t wear Lycra to French restaurants. Fish and chips will be fine.’
‘You’re going to have a bruise tomorrow.’ Maybe a restaurant with fluorescent lighting wasn’t the best idea. But the chips were good.
When Natalie got in the red light on her answering-machine was flashing. Imagining it would be Tom, and looking forward to hearing about S, she threw herself down on to the sofa and pushed the button.
It was Simon.
Simon’s voice. Deep, slow, haughty.
Natalie sat up straight.
‘It’s me. Surprise, hey?’ The briefest pause. ‘I’ve fucked up, Nat. I miss you. I don’t know what I was on before. I want you back. We can do whatever you want. We can move in. Hell, we can get married, if that’s what you want. As long as I have what I want. Which is you back. Machine’s probably not the best place for this kind of conversation, so have a think about it. If you’re interested, I’ll be at Bill’s tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. Our usual table. See? I remember. Come.’
She played it once more. No ‘sorry’. No ‘please’. ‘As long as I have what I want.’ Angrily, she went to her bedroom, pulled off the day’s clothes, and put on her sweats.
Back in the living room, she played the message again. Bill’s. The nerve of him. Their special place. Bloody good of him to ‘remember’.
They’d been there first when he’d qualified at the end of three years’ clinical. She’d paid, of course. Again on his birthday, his first year as a SHO, and when he’d passed the FRCS exams. Taken his mother on Mother’s Day, taken Bridget for her first outing without the baby. Been when Natalie had been promoted to producer on her show. She had piles of photographs