“May I see you again?” Simon asked. “This weekend?”
“Yes, I’d like that. I’m working Saturday, but…”
“How about Sunday? We could go ice-skating. Apparently there’s a pond on the other side of the Lea that’s frozen over.”
“Ice-skating…” That was novel. “I don’t have any skates…”
“I’ll come prepared.”
Olivia gazed at him; his eyes were warm and full of kindness, his smile wry, his hair flopping across his forehead. She didn’t care what Harriet had said. She liked him…and she definitely wanted to see him again, even if it meant making a fool of herself and falling flat on her back on the ice.
“I’m not a very good skater.”
“Neither am I. We’ll have to hold on to each other, to keep us both up.”
She liked the sound of that. She liked the sound of it all. “All right. I see my mum in the late morning but I could meet you after that.”
“Shall I pick you up from here?”
“All right. Thank you.” She handed him the box, his fingers sliding over hers as he took it. “Your cupcake, sir.”
“Many thanks, my lady.” He grinned and then stepped back, which gave her a little flicker of disappointment. So he wasn’t even going to try to kiss her. “I’ll see you Sunday.”
“Yes. Sunday.” He gave a mock salute and then left, the jingle bells on the door ringing merrily as he shut it behind him. Olivia let out a gusty sigh as she locked up and turned off the lights. She’d been hoping the evening would have ended a little differently, even if it had just been a kiss on the cheek. Still, she told herself as she headed upstairs, she had Sunday to look forward to.
Chapter Nine
“So how was it?”
Alice’s eyes were alight as she came into Tea on the Lea the next day, intending to buy six Nutella cupcakes for a dinner she and Henry were having. She’d barely got through the door, however, before blurting out her question.
Olivia raised her eyebrows, determined to play cool. “How was what?”
“Your date.” Alice dropped her voice to a theatrical whisper even though there was no one else in the shop; Evelyn Dearborn, a lovely old lady, had just had her morning tea and scone and had left as Alice came in, but she was mostly deaf anyway.
“I gather you’ve been talking to Harriet?”
“Yes, sorry.” Alice gave a guilty smile. “Should she not have said?”
“No, it’s fine.” Judging from Alice’s unbridled enthusiasm, Harriet hadn’t mentioned the so-called rumours about Simon, for which Olivia was grateful. “And the date was good. Really good. We’re seeing each other again on Sunday.”
“Oh, Olivia!” Alice clasped her hands together. “I’m so pleased. Is he nice?”
“He is,” Olivia said firmly. There was absolutely no doubt about that. Simon Blacklock was the nicest man she’d ever met. And she still wished he’d kissed her last night.
“Oh, that sounds lovely. What are you doing on Sunday, then?”
“We’re going ice-skating at that pond on the other side of the Lea.” Olivia couldn’t stop herself from making a bit of a face. It had sounded fun and Christmassy last night, but now she was realising how little ice-skating experience she had, i.e. nil, and how likely she was to make a complete fool of herself.
“How romantic,” Alice gushed. “Skating around hand in hand…I love it.”
“Or falling flat on my face. I’ve never been ice-skating before.”
“Me neither,” Alice said. Growing up as a lost cause in the foster system, there was a lot Alice hadn’t done, Olivia knew—and too much that she’d had to. “But it does sound nice. And if Simon is so nice, he’s hardly going to laugh at you or something for falling over.”
“I know, but…it’s all very new.” And fragile. And that made her scared. Last night she’d lain in bed reliving the best parts of her evening with Simon, and then remembering the awkwardness of her confession—and Simon’s lack of one. She knew she was already starting to care about him—that was a freight train of feeling she had no control over, it seemed—but she also knew that when you cared you got hurt. Her lack of romantic relationships was a testament not just to her inability to find a Mr Right, but also a deliberate choice not to put herself out there. It simply wasn’t worth it.
But could it be now? Could Simon be worth it? Of course she didn’t have enough information to answer that question yet, but already her emotions were galloping ahead of her far more rational thoughts.
“Relationships are scary,” Alice commiserated with a sympathetic smile. “Not that I have loads of experience. Henry was my only boyfriend, the only man I ever kissed, even.”
“Do you wish there had been others?” Olivia asked. She’d had a few boyfriends over the years, and definitely kissed a few frogs, but she still felt inexperienced and uncertain now, in light of this. Of Simon.
“No, I don’t,” Alice answered. “Because I found Henry. I admit, sometimes I feel gauche compared to him or, well, anyone, but I’d rather be gauche than jaded. Naïve rather than cynical.”
“That’s the right attitude, Alice. Definitely better to live your life on the side of hope.” Which was sort of what she was doing, even if a part of her kept holding back as well as on to that ever-persistent fear. She didn’t want to be cynical about Simon, even her wary, rational side warned her that he was almost certainly too good to be true, whatever Harriet had or hadn’t said.
“Are you coming to the mulled wine and mince pies evening?” Olivia asked as she boxed up the cupcakes. “Although I think I should come up with a catchier name.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Alice answered. “And I’ve invited a few people that Henry knows.”
“Thanks, Alice. I’m hoping to get a good crowd.”
“And so you should. It sounds like loads of fun.”
Olivia hoped so. Sometimes she wondered if the
