Second Chance - Jane Green [69]
‘How many?’ The maître d’ asks politely and leads her to a table at the back for two. Holly resists the temptation to run to the loo to check her make-up. She knows it’s fine – she checked it at every red light on the way here and several times while driving somewhat erratically along the winding London streets.
She taps her boot impatiently on the floor and catches sight of herself in the mirror on the other side of the room. God, if she didn’t know better she’d never recognize herself. Skinny jeans tucked into knee-high, buttery-leather boots, high enough to be sexy as hell, not so high she can’t walk. A cotton shirt, classic, but slim and long, and a chunky wide belt.
She realizes, as she gazes around at the rest of the clientele, that she looks as if she belongs. She looks no different from the other young mothers sipping cappuccinos with their strollers parked next to the tables, and even though she is childless today, stroller-less and child-accoutrement-less, she is what she is, and how funny, she thinks, that she has exchanged one uniform for another.
Her uniform of cashmere and pearls, so befitting a lawyer’s wife, has today been swapped for a uniform of Notting Hill trendiness, and although still a uniform, Holly notices how much better she feels in what she is wearing today. She does feel young and, let’s face it, she is only thirty-nine. No need to pretend to be forty-five.
‘You look amazing!’ Will’s eyes widen in surprise and, she hopes, delight. No. She doesn’t hope that. No point in hoping that. Or is there? Isn’t it fine, surely, to want to be attractive to other men? Isn’t it fine to enjoy someone appreciating you? It doesn’t mean you’re going to have an affair, for heaven’s sake. Holly would never have an affair. She isn’t the type.
You’re married, my darling. Not dead!
‘Oh this? Wow. Thanks.’ Holly blushes slightly as she stands up to step into Will’s hug, to receive his air kisses on either cheek, except they are not air kisses, his lips land softly on each cheek, even as hers skim the air on either side of his. Stop it! she tells herself as her heart flutters ever so quickly, and she sits down hurriedly, spending rather more seconds than are altogether necessary smoothing the napkin on her lap in a bid to calm down.
‘Now you look like the Holly I remember.’ Will grins, and as he does, she thinks with a jolt how much like Tom he looks.
‘This is a bit weird, isn’t it?’ Holly finds herself saying.
‘What? You and I having lunch? Frankly I think it’s about time we took our email correspondence to a proper friendship, and you can’t be friends if you never see one another. As the dating service says, it’s only lunch.’
‘No, not that. You just looked exactly like Tom when you smiled.’ Holly picks up the napkin and holds it to her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, Will,’ she says, attempting a smile. ‘So stupid that I’m the one sitting here with tears in my eyes when he’s your brother. I feel I don’t have a right to this display of emotion in front of you.’
Will leans over and places a hand on Holly’s, squeezing it ever so gently. ‘Holly, you loved him too. Just for the record, you do have a right to display any emotion you want, and I know, God knows I know, how it reaches up and grabs you at the most unexpected times.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Holly says as a tear slides its way down her nose.
‘It’s okay,’ Will says, and he keeps holding her hand, not saying anything, and after a few seconds it is okay, and Holly smiles through her sniffs.
‘I’m pathetic,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘The only thing that’s pathetic is that you keep apologizing. Will you stop? Please?’
‘Okay.’ She smiles. ‘Sor… oh fuck off.’
‘That’s better!’ Will grins. ‘When was the last time you told a friend to fuck off?’
‘Probably yesterday,’ Holly says. ‘I think I may have told Saffron to fuck off over the phone.’
‘That’s nice,’ Will says in mock horror. ‘Can’t imagine why she’s friends with