A Walk in the Park (14 page)

The thing to do was to keep telling yourself it wasn't a real date.

Evie waited outside Brown's and realized without enthusiasm that she was going to have to insist on paying half the bill. Since it wasn't a proper date, she couldn't land Ethan with the whole thing; it wouldn't be fair. Plus, add in a couple of decent bottles of wine and it might well come to more than he earned in a week.

OK, and relax. For the next couple of hours she and Ethan were going to chat together like two normal people who weren't out on a date. And as soon as the meal was over she could leave.

There wasn't going to be a good-bye kiss either.

Oh look at the people sitting at the tables outside; they were all so glamorous and stylishly dressed. Please don't let Ethan turn up in his manky old khaki combats and that faded T-shirt with the holes in it.

He didn't have her phone number but when her mobile began to ring, Evie experienced a rush of hope that it could somehow be Ethan calling to tell her he couldn't make it after all. Right now she'd positively welcome being stood up.

But the name flashing on the screen was an altogether more familiar one. Unable to ignore it, she answered and said evenly, “Hello, Joel.”

“Mum just called. She told me you're out with some bloke tonight.”

Thanks
a
lot, Bonnie.

“So?”

“So who is he?”

Evie checked her watch; if he wasn't going to do the decent thing and stand her up, Ethan would be here any minute now. “Look, it doesn't matter who he is.”

“It matters to me.” Joel sounded hurt.

“We're having dinner, that's all.” It was secretly gratifying to hear his concern. “I'm allowed to do that.”

“What's he like?”

Oh yes, another mini frisson of power. Evie said, “If he wasn't nice, I wouldn't be meeting him.”

Joel said, “Where are you?

Like she was going to tell him that. “I have to go now,” said Evie. “He's here. Bye.”

And she ended the call.

Yay, just like Madonna.

Best of all, she wasn't even lying. Ethan was making his way down the road toward her. Sadly still scruffily dressed though less so than before. He was wearing crumpled navy chinos and an olive-green shirt worn unbuttoned over a faded purply-gray T-shirt. Oh well, these could be the best clothes he owned. Maybe he didn't possess an iron.

And he had made an effort, she noted as he reached her. His hair might be overlong and unstyled but it was freshly washed. He was wearing aftershave too; whatever it was, it smelled nice. Maybe his mum or sister had bought it for him for Christmas.

“Hey, you're here.” He didn't, thank goodness, attempt any form of hug or air kiss by way of greeting. “Thanks for turning up. I'm not late, am I? Have you been waiting long?”

“Just a couple of hours,” said Evie.

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “That's good. And I'd tell you how nice you're looking if I thought you wouldn't mind. But I'm going to err on the side of caution and not say it.”

“Thanks.” He had a dry sense of humor, she'd give him that much.

“Hi there.” Ethan caught the attention of a passing waitress. “We have a table booked for eight o'clock, name of McEnery. Is it OK if we sit outside?”

Evie opened her mouth to protest then shut it again. It was a stunning evening, perfect for eating alfresco; if she objected, he'd think she was embarrassed to be seen with him in public.

“Is that all right with you?” Ethan turned to check with her.

“Fine.” He was a gardener; it stood to reason he'd like fresh air. She smiled and nodded at him. It didn't matter if they were seen. They were shown to a table and Ethan pulled out a chair for her. He had nice manners; he'd definitely been well brought up.

“So tell me about working in a costume shop.” Once the waitress had taken their drinks order and left them, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table between them. “What's the weirdest outfit anyone's ever asked for?”

“That would be a fleet of lime-green Daleks. Not blue,” said Evie. “Not silver, not pink. They only wanted lime green. Six Daleks. They were unbelievably annoyed when I told them we didn't have any.”

“What did you do?”

“I persuaded them they'd rather be Teletubbies instead.”

“The mark of a good saleswoman.” Ethan gave her a nod of approval. “I'm really sorry about the modeling thing at the hotel, by the way. Didn't think it through at all. You were meant to be working in the shop that day, weren't you, that's why you couldn't tell your boss the truth?”

OK, she was going to have to explain. Evie sat back as the waitress returned with their drinks. If she was honest, being mistaken for a model had been something of an ego boost. She wasn't deluded about her appearance; on a scale of prettiness she was a notch, possibly two notches, above average. But no more than that. And figure-wise, she was average with a slightly big bum. She didn't wear makeup or model-type clothes. In her whole life, no one had ever before mistaken her for a model.

And it secretly felt… great.

“Something like that.” She smiled and dismissed his apology with a shake of the head; what the hell, did it really matter if she skimmed over the truth? “Anyway, not a problem. Bonnie was fine about it.”

Ethan looked relieved. “She seems nice.”

“She is.” Telling fibs, Evie discovered, made her mouth dry. “What's it like working at the Ellison then? Have you always been a gardener?”

He hesitated. “Well…”

“Sorry, gardener-handyman.” Hurriedly she made it sound more important. “I bet you have to do all sorts to keep the place together! Always busy with a job like that… cutting the grass one minute, mending stuff the next, fixing anything that needs to be fixed… they couldn't manage without you!” Oh help, did that sound patronizing? She hadn't meant it to come out quite so kindergarten-schoolteacherish.

Luckily Ethan didn't appear to have taken offense. He sat back and said easily, “That's true, I bet they couldn't.”

“And have you always been good with your hands?”
Ergh, no, accidental double entendre…

But once again, thank goodness, he seemed not to notice. “I like mending things,” said Ethan. “Fixing stuff.”

Two girls at an adjacent table had overheard though. One of them stage-whispered, “I
love
it when they're good with their hands,” and they dissolved into fits of giggles.

Thank God for a big menu. Evie hid her burning face and studied it intently. There was a cheese soufflé on the starter list and soufflés were her all-time favorite, but it stated that they'd take twenty minutes to arrive so she went for the prawns instead. The sooner this non-date was over, the better.

Having given their orders they handed the menus back to the waitress. Evie reached for her drink, sat back, and almost spilled the lot down her front. There, twenty yards away on the other side of the road, was Joel.

And he was standing there watching her.

“Whoops!” The cheery waitress handed her a napkin to dab at the splashes of rosé wine on her top. “Here you go, lucky it wasn't red!”

“Thanks.” Evie dabbed and dabbed. Then she glanced up again. Joel was still there, not looking as if he were planning on going anywhere. She pushed back her chair and said to Ethan, “I'll just get myself cleaned up. Back in a minute.”

In the ladies' she phoned Joel. He answered on the second ring.

“What are you doing?” Evie hissed. “How did you know I was here?” OK,
that
was a stupid question.

“I asked Mum.”

And of course Bonnie had told him, because she wanted him to be jealous.

“Well, you can go now.”

“Who's that you're with?”

“Joel, just leave.”

“Why?” he protested. “I'm not doing any harm.”

“You're stalking me!”

“I just wanted to know what I was up against. If you ask me,” said Joel, “I win, hands down. I'm way better looking than he is.”

This was so true Evie didn't even bother arguing the point. She said, “Maybe he's more faithful than you are.”

“You're doing this to teach me a lesson. That's the plan, isn't it?”

“It's really not.” This was true; it was actually Bonnie's plan. “Just leave me alone, Joel. Please don't spoil my evening.”

Emerging from the restaurant, she stood and stared at him across the street. Joel stared back for several seconds. Finally he shrugged, turned away, and headed off in the direction of Pulteney Bridge.

So long as he didn't throw himself off it, into the churning weir below.

“All better now?” Ethan smiled as she returned to him.

“Yes, thanks. Sorry to be so long.” What with talking to Joel then sponging and drying the front of her top under the hand dryer, she'd been gone a while.

“No problem. I bumped into someone I know. We've been chatting.” He nodded across the terrace and Evie politely followed his gaze. Before she could work out which one was Ethan's friend, she spotted a familiar face she'd rather not have seen. Oh for heaven's sake, Emily Morris was here; talk about bad timing. What was this, some kind of cosmic conspiracy?

The next moment Emily glanced up and saw her. She did a cartoon double-take and clearly mouthed “I don't believe it.”

Seriously, what were the chances? And now she was jumping up, heading toward them, completely overdoing the look of amazement as she insinuated her long legs and narrow hips between the tables.

Evie braced herself and waited, because subtlety had never been Emily Morris's strong point.

Bath might be a beautiful city but sometimes it wasn't nearly big enough.

“Oh wow, Evie, I don't believe it! I heard you were back!” Emily enveloped her in a hug so showbiz they barely made physical contact. “You poor darling, how
are
you? And you've lost weight… well, that's hardly surprising. Oh dear, look at your face, it's so
gaunt
.”

Bitchiness masquerading as sympathy, that was Emily Morris's strong point.

“Hi, Emily. I lost a few pounds, that's all.”

“When Ethan said he was having dinner with someone I had no idea it was you!”

It was Evie's turn to be stunned. This was the friend Ethan had been talking to? She turned to look at him. “I'm surprised too. How do you two know each other?”

“Just through the hotel.” Ethan gestured casually. “How about you?”

“Oh, I've known Evie for
years
,” Emily jumped in. “I'm just amazed to see her out and about so soon after what happened… I mean, God, jilting someone at the altar's a pretty major thing… when I heard about it I was like,
wow
. And so gutted I missed it! I've never been to one of those weddings where it gets called off at the very last minute. It's like something out of
Sex
and
the
City
!”

Oh well, it was out there now. Good job it hadn't been a deep dark secret. Ha, and Ethan, bless him, was doing his best not to look shocked. Just as well they weren't out on a real date. Handily, across the terrace, a waiter was delivering plates to Emily's table. Evie pointed and said, “Your food's arrived.”

“Ah, shame. Anyway, catch you later… we could join you for a drink after dinner! OK, ciao for now…”

Ciao
for
now?
Did people really still say that? This one evidently did.

Emily left them, doing her wiggly model-walk all the way back to the table so that everyone would look at her.

Ethan murmured, “We'll have to get out of here before that happens.”

“That's a terrible thing to say. She might be one of my closest friends.”

“Except she isn't.” He looked amused.

“How about you?” Evie countered. “Is she one of yours?”

“Not at all. I just know her from the hotel. I get the impression she's what's known as a man's woman.”

“That's the polite way of putting it.” Evie pulled a face; Emily regarded other women as rivals and liked to bring them down at every opportunity.

“So shall we pretend she didn't mention the wedding?” Ethan paused. “Or do you want to talk about it?”

“I'm fine. It's not a secret.”

“Now I understand why you weren't keen on coming out to dinner with me. Can I just say, though, anyone who jilts another person at the altar deserves to be miserable for the rest of their life. That's just a disgusting thing to do.
Evil
. And he certainly didn't deserve you.”

“Thanks, it's nice of you to say so.” Evie looked suitably grateful. “Sadly, the disgusting evil jilter wasn't him. It was me.”

Without missing a beat, Ethan said, “In that case, brilliant. Good for you. You did exactly the right thing.”

Evie smiled and liked him more. “I know.”

“And he obviously deserved it.”

“Funnily enough, he did.”

“Are you glad you didn't marry him?”

“I think so. I mean, I know it was the right thing to do.” Ethan was easy to talk to, she was discovering. Some people just had that natural ability to be good listeners. “But I was expecting to get married… we'd been together for a few years… it takes a while to get used to being single again. It's all a bit
urgh
, to be honest. Kind of confusing.”

“No wonder you didn't want to meet me tonight.”

“It's OK. At least I warned you I'd be boring.”

“You call this boring?”

“Well”—Evie picked up her wineglass and gave the stem a twirl—“you know what I mean. If this was a proper date I wouldn't be telling you how I really feel, would I? I'd be putting on a front to impress you, pretending I was totally fine and over it. I'd be acting all confident…”

“Like Emily.”

“Exactly like Emily. She used to flirt with my fiancé.” A thought belatedly occurred to Evie. “Oh God, he probably slept with her too.”

“Is that what happened? He had an affair?”

“Plural. It turns out he had many affairs. But yes, basically he felt sharing himself with just me was a bit of a waste. Why only sleep with one girl when you can have six?” She saw the look of puzzlement on his face. “But I only properly found out on the way to the church. Not the greatest timing in the world. Still, like Emily said, it gave everyone something to talk about.”

Ethan was frowning now. “And this happened when?”

“Three weeks ago.”

He blinked. “But that was when I first saw you. In the parking lot at the hotel. You were… oh shit, you weren't part of the photo shoot, were you? You were in a wedding dress because…”

“Because I'd just run away from my wedding. I know,” Evie marveled, “what are the chances? And thanks for thinking I was a model, by the way. That was really an ego boost. But I'm not.”

Their food arrived and they carried on chatting about MadAboutParties, about unexpectedly not getting married at the last minute, even about gardening and how to keep temperamental house plants alive. Much to her surprise Evie found herself relaxing and enjoying the evening she really hadn't expected to enjoy. Thanks to his laid-back manner, Ethan was easy company. There was no need to try and impress him. Appearance-wise he was frankly a bit of a disaster, which helped a lot. He was so unassuming. For years she'd been accustomed to Joel being the center of attention wherever they went. Being out with someone like Ethan was far easier; gone was the stress of knowing you were being covertly watched all the time.

Although… yes, across the terrace, Emily Morris was still keeping an eye on them. But that was only because she was an absolute fiend for gossip.

“Right,” Ethan declared when dinner was over, “Emily and her friend are still on dessert, so how about we make a quick getaway before they try and join us?”

“Definitely.” Evie watched him signal to the waiter. “And we're splitting the bill.”

“I invited you. Let me pay.”

“No, please, I can't.” She flushed slightly; it was like holding up a placard announcing I REALLY DON'T FANCY YOU, NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT, SO DON'T GO THINKING ANYTHING'S GOING TO HAPPEN AT THE END OF THE NIGHT BECAUSE IT JUST WON'T.

“Fine then, no problem.” Ethan silently read the placard and backed down with good grace.

“It's just, we're not on a real date. I'm really not ready for anything like that. But I have had fun,” said Evie. “It's been better than I expected.”

He smiled briefly. “For me too.”

“I'll be back in a minute.” Evie excused herself and headed inside to the ladies'.

She was washing her hands when the door swung open and Emily appeared reflected in the mirror behind her. “Hiya! We were about to come and join you but I've just spoken to Ethan and he says you have to leave.”

“Yes we do.”

“That's such a
shame
, it's so nice to see you again. I'm just amazed you're out and about like this… after what happened, I thought you'd be in pieces for, like, months!”

“Life goes on,” said Evie, rinsing the soap off her hands.

“Well,
obviously
. And good for you. I had no idea you and Ethan were…” Emily bobbed her head from side to side and waited expectantly.

“Friends.” Evie plunged her hands into the supersonic hand dryer, forcing Emily to wait for her to finish.

“Well, I have to say I'm impressed. So, are you sleeping with him?”

Honestly, what was this girl like? The eagerness in her eyes was positively
avid
.

“No, I am not,” said Evie.

“Sure?” An idea belatedly occurred to Emily and she gasped. “Oh my
God
, is Ethan the real reason you didn't marry Joel?”

Poor Ethan. If he got to hear about this, hopefully he'd find it funny. Evie said, “There's nothing going on. At all. I didn't even know him before the wedding. He's just the handyman from the Ellison, I bumped into him when I was dropping off some outfits, then yesterday he brought them back to the shop. That's all there is to it. We're just two people having a chat.”

While she'd been speaking, Emily had been lavishly applying creamy beige lipstick. Now, meeting Evie's gaze in the mirror, she raised an eyebrow and said, “He's just the handyman at the Ellison?”

Oh no, not again. When you were being called out for making a condescending remark by Emily Morris, you knew you'd put your foot in it big time.

“I don't mean it like that
at
all
. He's the gardener-handyman, there's nothing wrong with that, it's a perfectly good job, I was just explaining that's how we met.”

Emily finished filling in her lips. She efficiently clicked the top back on the lipstick—Dior, what else?—and turned round. There was an expression on her face that Evie was familiar with, the one where Emily knew something the other person didn't and she couldn't be happier about it.

“Right, I see. So… is that what Ethan told you? That he's the gardener-handyman?”

“Yes. Why?” She'd seen him watering the tubs. He dressed like a gardener. They'd talked about his job, for heaven's sake. He hadn't said anything to contradict her. Evie frowned and said, “Doesn't he work there?”

“Not really.” Emily was having trouble keeping a straight face. “I mean, not properly. Ethan owns the hotel.”

He owned the hotel. Of course he did. Evie digested this piece of information. The Ellison belonged to Ethan. She'd decided he was the gardener and for whatever reason he'd carried on letting her think it.

Like a complete moron.

Emily, visibly in her element, said with a mix of elation and mock concern, “Oh my God, I can't believe you didn't know! You must be so embarrassed!”

***

“There you are. I was starting to think you'd jumped out of a back window.”

“I tried. It was too small. I'd have got stuck and had to be winched out with a crane.” The bill was on the table along with two twenty pound notes. Grateful that he was letting her pay her way, Evie opened her purse and put down the same amount. All the same, forty pounds.
Ouch
.

“Did you really want to escape?”

“I did a bit, yes.”

Ethan looked worried “Why?”

“Humiliation. Awkwardness. Feeling like a prize idiot.” Out of the corner of her eye Evie saw Emily heading toward them once more. “Let's get out of here, shall we, before she comes over to gloat?”

“Gloat about what?” Ethan followed her along the pavement.

“About me thinking you were the odd-job guy at the hotel and not realizing you owned the place.”

“Ah.” Ethan caught up with her. “Who told you, or is that a silly question?”

“Emily just came and found me, in the loo.”

“Of course she did.” His eyes narrowed with amusement. “Look, I'm sorry. I thought you'd be embarrassed if I corrected you.”

“Fine. Except I'm embarrassed now instead.”

“Hey, stop for a minute.” They'd rounded the corner into Manvers Street; now that they were out of sight of the restaurant, Ethan reached for her arm and turned her to face him. “I've really enjoyed this evening. It's been great. And maybe it was just my imagination but I thought you were having a good time too.”

“I was.”

“Glad to hear it. And that was when you thought I was the odd-job guy. It didn't bother you at all.”

“No.” Evie was forced to move closer to him as they were overtaken by a stream of Japanese tourists making their way to Pulteney Bridge.

“I liked it that you didn't know the truth. We just hit it off naturally. You know what usually happens when people figure out I own a big hotel?”

“You find yourself the center of attention?”

“Exactly. From the kind of women I wouldn't want attaching themselves to me.” He paused. “Women with… expensive tastes, shall we say.”

“Like Emily.”

“Exactly like Emily.” He rubbed his chin. “It's bloody terrifying, actually. That highlighted hair of hers, all swingy and perfect… she told me it took thirteen hours in the hairdressers to get it looking like that. I mean, can you imagine? If you added up all the time I've spent in the hairdressers in my whole
life
it probably wouldn't come to thirteen hours.”

Evie kept a straight face. “Now why doesn't that surprise me?”

“She asked me out last month. Four times. I kept having to say no.” Ethan looked perplexed. “She has her eyelashes individually glued on in a beauty salon. They stay on for six weeks. Did you know that was even physically possible?”

“Well, I've heard about it. Can't say it's something I've ever done myself.”

“Exactly. It's like science fiction.” Ethan exhaled in disbelief and Evie realized her own particular unique selling point was the fact that she was as disastrously un-savvy in the hi-tech beauty stakes as he was. Together, essentially, they were Aunt Sally and Worzel Gummidge.

“So what you're saying is, you like me because I'm almost as scruffy as you are.
Almost
,” Evie reiterated. “You still take the gold medal.”

He grinned, unoffended. “Hey, look at me. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't an advantage. I like you because of your smile, your personality, and your honesty. But I also like the fact that you have your own fingernails, your eyelashes aren't covered in black gloop, and you can actually move your forehead.”

Yet another crowd of tourists was in the process of disembarking from their coach; the air was filled with excited chatter and clicking camera shutters.

“If I'd known yesterday that you owned the hotel I wouldn't have come out with you tonight.”

“I guessed. That's the other reason I didn't tell you. Now, are we going to stand here on this pavement for the next three hours or shall we go somewhere for a drink and carry on getting to know each other?”

He might wear decrepit clothes but he did have a nice smile. “Well, OK then. But this still isn't a date,” said Evie.

Ethan shuddered and took her arm. “Eurgh, no way, definitely not. Perish the thought.”

***

“Oh God,” murmured Evie, “we're the only ones left. I didn't realize.”

“No?” Ethan grinned across at her, the light from the burnt-down candle on the table between them reflected in his eyes. “We've been the only ones in here for the last hour.”

“What?” She stared at her watch in disbelief. “Are you serious? It's one thirty in the morning! I don't believe it.”

“If this is how observant you are, it's probably just as well you aren't an international spy.”

“OK, this is embarrassing.” Evie had no idea where the evening had gone. All she knew was that they'd talked nonstop. After leaving Brown's they'd gone on to a bar. When that had closed, they had come to this dear little Italian restaurant. Not for food, because they'd already eaten, but in order to stay, they had asked for wine and a pizza between them—which they'd been unable to resist picking at in the end. “I mean it,” she said, mortified. “We have to go.”

“Does that mean you've had enough of me?”

“It means these poor people are waiting to go home!” Evie gestured with agitation at the last remaining staff, chatting desultorily as they polished wineglasses behind the bar.

“Hey, don't worry. All sorted.”

“What does that mean?”

“I had a quiet word with them after the last table left, said we'd like to stay on for a bit and that I'd pay them extra for their trouble. They were more than happy with that. We can stay here all night if we want.”

Evie exhaled with relief. “But we can't really.”

“I suppose not. And you want to leave now, I can see that. You wait here,” said Ethan, “and I'll sort them out.”

She sat back and watched him, amazed by the turn the evening had taken. Well, it just went to show what could happen when you weren't expecting it. In fact, her expectations had been completely confounded. What a fantastic time they'd ended up having. And if they didn't both have work in the morning, she could easily have stayed here all night. Ethan had been a revelation. It was as if they had been fated to meet… OK, this sounded crazy and she wouldn't say it out loud to anyone, but being with him had almost felt like falling under a spell, as if some kind of magic dust had been sprinkled over them…

And she wasn't even drunk.