Second Chance - Jane Green [70]
‘Because I’m kind and funny and loyal.’
‘And pretty damn sexy with that hair, if I may say so.’
‘I…’ Holly flushes bright red and Will starts to laugh.
‘Are you going to turn scarlet every time I compliment you? Because if you are that’s fantastic. I can start pouring them on. Those jeans and boots make your arse…’
‘Will!’ Holly stops him, even as she’s laughing.
‘What? Can’t I say arse?’
‘No you bloody can’t. You don’t know me nearly well enough to make comments about my… well. You know.’
Will leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, studying Holly with a smile. ‘Well, well, well,’ he says. ‘Holly Mac, a prude. Who knew?’
‘I am not a prude,’ she says indignantly.
‘Tell me you have a great arse, then.’
‘No! I absolutely do not have to tell you I have a great arse to prove to you that I’m not a prude.’
‘Go on. I won’t believe you unless you tell me.’
‘Fine. I have a great arse. Happy now?’
‘Very, thank you. And yes, I agree. So. Shall we get menus?’ The waiter appears immediately, and Holly hides her embarrassment – her secret thrill – behind choosing what to have for lunch.
‘You’re not used to being complimented, are you?’ Will muses, gazing at Holly over the rim of his cappuccino at the end of the meal, each of them reluctant to end what has been a lunch filled with laughter and teasing.
‘No,’ Holly says cautiously. ‘Although I don’t think that’s me, particularly. I can’t imagine being in a situation where I would be complimented these days. My life as a mother and freelance illustrator is very dull. You see the same people, and run around in the same clothes, so why would anyone compliment you on your looks? Surely it’s the same for you, no? When was the last time you were complimented?’
‘Well, I did get a compliment at Tom’s memorial service. Not particularly appropriate, but there was a girl who came up to me and told me she and her friends had always fancied me when we were young. Remember when I worked at the chemist’s for that summer? Apparently they’d watch me play football on the weekends, then make excuses to come into the chemist’s and buy stuff. They even had a name for me. The lustyleg man.’
Holly bursts out laughing. ‘Is that because of your thick footballer legs?’
‘Nothing wrong with having thick footballer legs.’
‘Didn’t say there was. But that’s funny. The lusty-leg man. I like it.’
‘Yes, well. I didn’t make it up. Holly?’ Will’s face turns serious for a second. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Yes, but I’m not altogether sure I’ll answer.’
‘In one of your emails you said something about a good night meant being in bed by nine and a great night meant being in bed by eight. You didn’t really mean that, did you?’
Holly smiles and leans forward. ‘Will, my darling, one day hopefully you will have small children, and then you will understand exactly what I mean, and why, sadly, it is the truth.’
‘But I have tons of friends with kids, and I don’t know anyone besides you who actually goes to bed that early.’
Holly shrugs. ‘I just get tired.’
‘Are you sure you’re not just checking out of life?’
‘What?’ Holly sits up straight, shocked.
‘I’m sorry, Holly. I don’t meant to say anything to offend you. It’s just that you’re so vibrant, you always were, but today, sitting here now, is the first time I’ve seen the old Holly. When I saw you after the memorial service I couldn’t believe how, well, how old you seemed. Obviously it wasn’t ideal circumstances, but even the way you were dressed was so staid and proper. Like a shadow of who you used to be, who I always dreamt you’d become. And I’m not saying this to upset you, but I think it’s heartbreaking that you’re in bed every night by eight or nine. That’s not living. That’s running away from life. That sounds to me like you’re burying your head under the covers, literally, and checking out of your life.’
Holly doesn’t say anything for a while. Can’t say anything for a while. When she looks up and meets Will’s eyes, she just shrugs sadly.
‘Maybe you’re right. A little,’ she says. ‘Maybe going to bed keeps me from examining my life more