Cambridge Blue - Alison Bruce [65]
And, as if on cue, his grandmother appeared in the kitchen doorway with a tray of tea and biscuits. She was still wearing the black cocktail dress that she’d obviously worn that evening to the Felix.
He smiled at her and settled back into the cherry leather wing-chair. ‘You’re looking well.’
‘Good quality meals on wheels,’ she joked.
‘Really?’
‘Yes, my favourite Chinese restaurant has started home deliveries.’
She placed the tray on the coffee table and sat in the chair facing him. She then reached underneath and produced a black box from the magazine shelf. ‘Backgammon?’
‘Of course.’ Goodhew opened out the board and slid the red and black counters into place. He held out the red dice for her, and she opened her hand for him to drop them in. ‘Oh, and before I forget . . .’ He pulled an envelope from his back pocket. ‘Your rent.’
‘Thanks,’ she said and pulled an expression that he couldn’t place, but suspected was in the region of ‘You’re not going to want to hear this.’
The flat he lived in was hers, in fact the whole building was, and Goodhew guessed that, apart from her own apartment here, it was the last of his grandparents’ assets. Paying market rate for renting the flat was something he’d insisted upon, and he assumed that if she ever started to struggle financially, the logical step would be to rent out the vacant floors below his.
‘Is it about my flat?’ he asked.
‘In a roundabout way, yes.’ After that she fell silent, and Goodhew guessed there was something that she was waiting for him to say.
‘If you need the building back, I can easily move out. I don’t mind,’ he added, hoping he wasn’t the completely useless liar that she claimed he was.
She took one of the dice and twiddled it between her thumb and forefinger. He smiled to himself as he noticed how precisely its colour matched her nail polish; she had a talent for such detail. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘but it’s nothing like that. I visited Mason, my solicitor, and I’ve come away with some documents. I’d like you to look over them.’
‘Sure.’
‘I’d like us to play first.’ She offered him the plate of biscuits.
They fell silent for a few moments, and each picked up a dice and threw them simultaneously. He scored six, she scored one. He moved the pieces, then looked up.
‘How’s work?’ she asked.
‘Fine. Why?’ A mischievous smile darted on to her face.
He grinned. ‘What?’
‘I think romance often blooms in the workplace, don’t you?’
He shook his head. ‘Only when it’s mutual. And if anyone ever shows a flicker of mutual interest, I’ll be sure to let you know.’
‘But you like her?’
‘I made something out of nothing,’ he sighed. ‘I didn’t even misread the signals, because there weren’t any. And now I don’t know what I was thinking. She has a boyfriend, she wouldn’t still be with him if she’d had enough of him.’
‘Some people just don’t leave.’
‘She’s made it clear she’s not interested. Even if that wasn’t the case, it’s not the way I’d want to start a relationship.’
‘So that’s that, then?’
‘Absolutely,’ he replied firmly.
Goodhew leant over and picked up his cup while his grandmother had set hers to one side, preferring to concentrate fully on the game.
‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘things don’t work out the way we want them to.’
He glanced across at her and found her shrewd gaze waiting to meet his. ‘We’re not still talking about Mel now, are we?’
‘No’, she said.
He shook his dice on to the board and then took his turn.
She turned over the doubling dice. ‘I’m doubling the game,’ she announced. She liked raising the stakes.
He waited until his turn before speaking further, and turned the doubling dice again. ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained,’ he murmured. ‘Your turn.’
‘I’m aware of the boundaries you set for yourself, Gary.’
‘Such as?’
‘The terms on which you’re prepared to start a relationship. Or work on your own initiative. Or refuse to pass judgement on Kincaide. The way you push yourself to stay fit. I could go on and on.’ He was