‘That thought is too depressing.’ I pull a leaf off the hanging basket and set about tearing it into pieces. ‘He said he’d phone me for coffee, but weeks have gone by and he hasn’t.’
‘Maybe he’s got cold feet? Maybe he needs a little persuasion? It shows you that he was up for it, if he said that.’
Charlie could be right. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Then grasp the whatsit by the horns. We’re modern women,’ she states, ‘we should take the initiative. Bake him some cakes. They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’
‘Yeah, perhaps I should have knocked up a Victoria sponge for Mason rather than have a threesome with him.’
‘Thank goodness it wasn’t a threesome and Victoria sponge. That would have been too weird.’ Charlie laughs and it lifts my mood.
‘I’m no domestic goddess,’ I confess. ‘I can’t bake to save my life. I don’t think I’ve actually switched on the oven since I moved into the granny annexe. I’m a microwave kinda gal.’
‘For heaven’s sake, woman, use your imagination,’ Charlie says. ‘Buy some cake from Sainsbury’s. Take them to that place where he works as a pressie for the residents. Show him your sharing, caring side rather than your pants.’
I hate to admit it, but that sounds like a damn fine idea and I wonder why I didn’t think of it myself.
Chapter Forty-Three
So the next day, before I’m due on shift, I find myself buying nice cakes in Sainsbury’s. Not the ones in boxes down the aisles, but proper ones from the bakery – cupcakes with little fiddles and twiddles on them – squares of fudge, drizzles of sweet sauce, chocolate flakes and mini marshmallows.
As I turn up at the Sunshine Woods community campus, I can see that Joe is helping a group of the younger residents to tidy up the raised flowerbeds in the garden. Armed with my supermarket-bought cakes, I feel nervous as I walk towards him. Yet when he glances up and sees me, he smiles widely – and looks more than a little surprised.
‘Hi,’ I say. ‘I come bearing gifts.’
‘Anyone with cake is welcome,’ Joe says and leans on his fork. ‘I’m just showing the guys some gardening skills. We’re currently struggling to differentiate between a weed and a flower.’
‘You too!’ one of the young men says, affronted.
‘Yeah,’ Joe agrees pleasantly. ‘Me most of all.’ He strips off his gardening gloves. ‘Gardening is not my forte. Guys, can you spare me for five minutes to take a pretty lady for coffee?’
Much enthusiastic nodding from all three of them.
‘Come to the café. We can have some coffee to go with the cakes.’
Damn. I hadn’t thought it through that there was a café already here. I have, in fact, brought coals to Newcastle.
‘How about you pick a bunch of flowers for our guest, Richie,’ Joe suggests to one of the young men. ‘Just a few flowers. Not all of them. Some of these.’ Joe points to some orange flowers which, if I knew my flowers, I’d be able to name.
‘OK,’ he says and picks up a pair of secateurs.
‘Careful with those,’ Joe reminds him. ‘They’re sharp.’
‘OK, Joe.’
‘Shall I wait while you cut them?’
‘No.’ A toothy grin. ‘I’m OK.’
‘Well, just shout if you need my help. I’ll only be over there.’
So we head towards the café, me clutching my cakes and trailing in Joe’s wake.
‘Let’s sit here,’ he says, pointing to a shaded table on the patio. ‘I can keep my eye on them from here. What can I get you?’
‘Skinny cappuccino?’
‘The perfect accompaniment to cake,’ he teases and I give him a wry smile. He has a point.
He walks to the counter and I can’t help but take in an eyeful. He is one fine-looking man. Where Mason is slender and angular, Joe is muscular, well built. He wears jeans and a tight T-shirt very well. Even with muddy handprints on the bottom, I’d be tempted follow that to the ends of the earth. Though I do wonder exactly what I’m doing here. When I don’t see him it’s hard to remember that he’s too complicated for me right now and that I actually don’t need this in my life. He hasn’t called me and I should have just let it go. I watch him queue at the counter. I can hardly leg it now.
While he’s being served Charlie texts me. How’s it going? xx.
No idea what I’m doing here! I text back.
Is he still HOT? There’s a row of many emoticons – sunshine, sunglasses, beach, barbeque, flames.
I send her one back – a smiley face with hearts for eyes.
That’s why you’re there! xx
Joe comes back with the coffee and turns to face the guys who are still concentrating on their gardening. I open the cakes and Joe takes a chocolate thing covered in marshmallows. I go for the one that I think was salted caramel. It’s lush whatever it is. Nice one, Sainsbury’s.
‘I’ve missed you at diving.’ No point beating about the bush. An appropriate moment for a gardening pun, no?
‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Busy. I’ve been covering extra shifts at work and the kids always seem to have something on. I’m on permanent taxi duty. Is Bob looking after you well?’
‘Brilliantly. I’ve learned the knack of making my ears go pop on demand.’
He grins at me. ‘Good for you. It’s one of the most important skills.’
He’s patronising me, of course, but I don’t care.
Then he takes a glug of his coffee and looks thoughtful. ‘I’m thinking that I might have to give up taking the lessons. I vowed that I’d keep my diving time as “me time”. That’s the modern thing, right? My daughter seems to need it every time there’s homework looming.’
So, essentially what he’s saying is that I’m stuck with Bob for the foreseeable future.
‘I’m hoping that I can keep up going out with the club on weekend dives, but that depends on Gina.’
‘Still not around much?’
‘No.’ He looks at me over the top of his sunglasses, his voice tight. ‘She and her new boyfriend haven’t yet exhausted the romantic capital cities of Europe. Though they have done quite a few of them now.’
‘Oh.’ It makes me think of my weekend with Mason. I wonder how much Joe’s ex is actually seeing of the sights at all. Probably best not to mention that.
‘The kids are way down on the list of her priorities, which is why I’m trying to be Superdad. I don’t want them to suffer.’
‘I understand that. I just wanted to make sure that I hadn’t done anything wrong.’
‘Seriously, it’s not you, it’s me.’ Then we both laugh. ‘That sounded pathetic.’
‘Pretty much.’
Joe takes a deep breath. ‘You’re a lovely woman, Ruby. At any other time …’ He looks off into the distance. ‘What I’m trying to say – very badly – is that I can’t get into a relationship now. I’m not in the right place. All this with Gina has left me raw. It’s always there under the surface. I’m not ready to get involved with anyone else. It really isn’t you.’
‘I get that.’ It’s a shame, but he can’t be fairer than that. ‘We can be friends. If you ever find yourself with a free night and at a loose end, call me. We can go for a drink or a curry. No strings.’ And I know that it would be a very different ‘no strings’ to Mason’s idea of ‘no strings’.