You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me (20 page)

‘And they’d shoved a candle in a piece of tiramisu?’ Max interrupted. ‘They always do that at these types of places.’

Neve glared him into silence. ‘Not even close. They whipped away the menu and there on the plate were two profiteroles and a banana with a strawberry perched on one end in the shape of a …’ She lowered her voice. ‘It was shaped like a cock!’

Max had just taken a sip of wine, which he proceeded to spit down his shirt. ‘Did you say what I think you just said?’

‘I said cock,’ Neve repeated; the giggles were back for another round. ‘And all the waiters chanted, “Bite! Bite! Bite!” until Celia bent down and bit the strawberry off the banana.’

‘Was she embarrassed?’

‘As if! She absolutely loved it!
I was
embarrassed; all her friends thought it had been my idea.’ Neve smiled as she remembered the look of horrified delight on Celia’s face when her birthday dessert had been revealed, then she looked over at Max who was dabbing at the wine stain on his shirt with a napkin and started laughing all over again. ‘I hope the change of subject was satisfactory?’

‘My favourite part was when you said “cock”.’ Max grinned. ‘Never thought I’d hear that word on your lips. Say it again.’

‘I say all kinds of rude things once you get to know me,’ Neve said, because she really wasn’t
that
uptight. ‘But I don’t like to swear that much because I think it shows a lack of imagination. Just you wait until I drop the f-word. It will blow your mind.’

‘I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight because I’ll be so busy imagining all the various reasons why I might hear you say “fuck”,’ Max said, his voice on its most sultry setting, his leg rubbing against Neve’s under the table. ‘Yup, I see a cold shower in my immediate future.’

Neve’s immediate reaction was to get hot and flustered and deny that the possibility would ever occur. She took another sip of wine and went with her second reaction. ‘Now you come to mention it, I can think of a few reasons why I might want to say it in your hearing too,’ she said tartly, moving her leg back so she could kick Max’s shin, just hard enough that he choked on his breadstick.

‘Touché,’ he said softly, and when he smiled at Neve it was so genuine, maybe even a little bashful because of the way she’d beaten him at his own game, that she couldn’t help but smile back. And just like that, they were in a happier place where Max wasn’t trying to be challenging or seductive or catch her off-guard and Neve could relax.

They were still in that happy place even when Neve ordered three lonely pieces of spinach and ricotta ravioli for her starter, asked for the grilled swordfish without the new potatoes for her main course and sent back her green salad because it had a drizzle of olive oil on it, which she hadn’t asked for, and not a trace of balsamic vinegar, which she had.

It was the lack of carbs and the one and a half glasses of white wine that made Neve stumble when they left the restaurant. Max’s arm wrapped round her waist in an instant.

‘I’m not used to wearing heels,’ she moaned. ‘They hurt and they’re patriarchal signifiers designed to cripple women and stop them from taking big strides through life.’

‘Why are you wearing them, then?’ Max asked. He still had his arm round her waist though she was able to walk by herself now she’d got over the headrush. Walking with an unsteady gait, but able to do it unaided.

‘Well, they’re very pretty and they make my ankles look slender,’ Neve said, snuggling against Max because there was a vicious wind whipping down the street.

‘You have no head for alcohol,’ Max told her. ‘You’re a cheap date.’

They’d actually split the bill. Neve had insisted it was her treat but Max had insisted that he’d eaten and drunk twice as much as she had and was taking the leftovers home with him.

They arrived at her garden gate far too soon for Neve’s liking, because Max was letting her go and already she was shivering without his warm body against hers. ‘Do you want to come in for a coffee?’ she asked. ‘And when I say coffee, I do mean just coffee.’

This time it was Max who hesitated. ‘I should really get home for Keith,’ he said eventually. ‘He needs his last walk.’

Neve was instantly suspicious. Poor Keith seemed to manage just fine when Max was out until all hours in his quest for female companionship. ‘If I’d asked you in for “coffee”’ – she put air quotes round the word – ‘would your answer still be no?’

‘Ouch! You’re just full of surprises tonight, aren’t you, sweetheart?’ Max said, his eyes gleaming in the glow of the streetlight. He took hold of her chin, so he could drop a light kiss on her mouth.

Neve was expecting her one contractually obligated, perfunctory kiss, but Max brushed her lips with delicate, light butterfly kisses that felt like a warm-up act. Then he slowed right down, kissed her longer, kissed her a little bit deeper – and just as Neve leaned forward to capture his mouth, because how could she
not
, he stepped back.

‘Well, I really should be going,’ he said affably, as if that was quite enough Neve-baiting for one evening. ‘I’ll call you soon.’

He didn’t even wait for a reply but was hurrying away, while Neve stood there in dismay.

‘Un-bloody-believable,’ she muttered, as she unlatched the gate and stomped up the path. It wasn’t meant to be
that
kind of relationship, but Max had said quite specifically that there would be kissing. Maybe he didn’t want to kiss her properly because he didn’t find her that attractive. And what was the point of being in a fake relationship if your fake boyfriend didn’t find you that attractive? There was no …

‘Neve! Wait up!’

She turned round to see Max coming down the path, slightly red-faced and panting. ‘What do you want?’ she asked warily, because she’d just made a really convincing argument in her head for ending this. Perhaps Max was thinking the same thing.

‘I forgot to ask, did you have fun tonight?’

He was impossible and it was starting to seem quite … endearing. ‘Almost,’ Neve said truthfully.

Max nodded. ‘And are you ready to admit that I’m the most likeable, charming person you’ve ever met?’

‘Never! I’ll say the f-word before I say that,’ Neve told him, pretty sure that Max wouldn’t take offence. Well, not too much.

He came to a halt at the bottom of the four steep steps that led up to the front door but didn’t go any further. ‘I am actually going home now, which means I won’t spend most of tomorrow sleeping off my hangover, so I’ll be free in the afternoon if you want to get together?’

Neve stayed on the doorstep. ‘Is there some launch thing or opening-night gala going on?’

‘No, nothing like that. Look, why don’t you come round mine and I’ll cook you dinner?’ Max was already backing away as if there was nothing untoward or unusual about his suggestion. ‘I’ll see you at five.’

There were many good reasons why Neve was not going to turn up on Max’s doorstep like a sacrifical lamb, but all she could come up with at such short notice was, ‘But I don’t have your address.’

‘You’re going to have to do much better than that,’ Max said, with that sneery little smile Neve hated. ‘I’ll email you, even attach a Google map.’

‘I’m not sure, I’m very busy tomorrow,’ Neve prevaricated, which wasn’t a lie, although all her social engagements would be over by four at the latest.

‘Oh, right, so if you weren’t “busy”,’ Max mocked her with her own air quotes, ‘would your answer still be no? You were the one who invited me in for coffee ten minutes ago.’

‘But I did actually mean a cup of coffee!’

‘Yeah, and I actually mean dinner.’ Max gave her a prim look, which Neve recognised instantly, because she usually saw it reflected back at her when she was looking in a mirror. ‘I do have some self-control and I’m pretty sure you can be alone in my flat for three hours or so without me committing all sorts of depraved acts on your unwilling flesh.’

When he put it like that, Neve was appalled. Max made it sound as if she thought she was so ravishing that he wouldn’t be able to resist her. She was also beginning to wonder just how unwilling her flesh really was when she was longing for something a lot more passionate when it came to their goodbye kisses. ‘I’m sorry, Max,’ she said contritely. ‘I’d love to come for dinner.’

Max didn’t look at all convinced by her apology and Neve stood on her doorstep, feeling slightly shaky and untethered now she didn’t have the moral high ground. Then she saw his shoulders relax and a wicked grin spread slowly across his face. ‘OK, I’ll see you tomorrow then. And as long as you remember your safety word, everything will be fine.’

It had been an unexpectedly lovely day. Neve had gone to bed at a very respectable eleven o’clock and had been woken eight hours later by the early spring sunshine worming its way through the gap in her curtains. She’d caught up on
Tristram Shandy
, then spent an hour on the phone with Philip to see if he understood a word of it and to get some crib notes for when she spoke to William later that evening.

Then she’d cycled over to Kenwood to meet Gustav and trail behind him as he ran around Hampstead Heath in preparation for the half-marathon he was doing in a couple of weeks’ time. Neve had been all set to go home and put in a few hours on the next chapter of her Lucy Keener biography when Chloe had phoned and invited Neve to brunch as she’d ended up staying over at a friend’s in Muswell Hill after a raucous party.

Neve always felt like it was a real treat to see Chloe outside of work, proof that they were proper friends and not just thrown together by a mutual dislike of Mr Freemont and cross-referencing. It was also a real treat to be able to talk about Max with someone who wasn’t Celia.

‘Well, he’s very pretty,’ was Chloe’s summing-up of Max when Neve showed her the photo he’d insisted she take on her new iPhone. ‘You want to watch out for the pretty ones, Neevy. They know they don’t have to try too hard.’

‘He’s actually been trying a lot harder than I thought he would,’ Neve said in surprise as she thought about how well-behaved Max had been the night before. He’d kept the salacious remarks to a minimum, and been a really good sport about bowling and cheap pizza. ‘It’s odd, really. I know he thinks I’m a bit of a rarity because I’m the only woman he’s ever met who’s fairly immune to his charms, but he hasn’t tried anything.’ She bit her lip. ‘It’s probably because he doesn’t fancy me.’

Chloe gave Neve a long-suffering look. ‘I’ve got a beast of a hangover so I haven’t got the energy to try and persuade you that you’re completely fanciable.’ She studied Max’s photo again, then started scrolling through Neve’s pictures of her new best ever friends. ‘Men that look like this don’t do anything they don’t want to do. Compared to his usual type of girl, you must seem like a breath of fresh air. I bet he can’t wait to try and corrupt you.’

‘Really, he’s not like that,’ Neve protested. ‘He’s hardly even kissed me and we did agree that kissing was allowed.’

‘Define hardly even kissing,’ Chloe demanded, and Neve was forced to describe the very lacklustre kisses she’d been getting and how last night she thought they were finally progressing when Max had stopped.

‘Is it weird that I want Max to kiss me when I’m in love with William?’ she asked worriedly.

‘Is William remaining a kiss-free zone too?’ Even with a debilitating hangover, Chloe hadn’t lost the ability to arch her right eyebrow. ‘No? Well, then, go for it. No point in having a pretty pretend boyfriend and remaining kiss-free. He’s probably waiting for you to give him a signal that he won’t offend your maidenly sensibilities if he really goes for it.’

‘Shut up,’ Neve said without any rancour because the memory of Max when he was really going for it made her feel a little light-headed.

‘When I was first going out with Andrew, way, way back, we’d spend hours snogging on his bed with the door open so his mum could hear if anything was being unzipped or unbuttoned and rush in with glasses of Ribena.’ Chloe sighed longingly. ‘I really miss that. I even miss the glasses of Ribena.’ She looked over Neve’s head. ‘I think that guy is trying to get your attention.’

Neve looked around, her eyes widening in horror as she saw Douglas coming towards their table with a thin-lipped Charlotte bringing up the rear. Charlotte was wearing a dove-grey Juicy Couture tracksuit tucked into grey Ugg boots (no faux Primark ones for her) and the general impression was that of a storm cloud coming Neve’s way, if storm clouds liked to accessorise with copious amounts of fake tan, gold jewellery and eyelash extensions.

‘Mind if we join you?’ Douglas asked, already sitting down. ‘It’s just there’s a half-hour wait for the next table.’

Charlotte was forced to sit down next to Neve, who tried to scooch her chair as far away as possible, while Douglas introduced himself to Chloe who said she could see the family resemblance, which was a lie because Douglas, like Celia, favoured the Celtic side of the family and was generally considered to be the looker of the Slater clan.

Neve gulped down the rest of her peppermint tea as Chloe and Douglas chattered quite happily about the medicinal benefits of a fry-up on a hangover, even Charlotte chiming in with a completely inane remark about how she couldn’t stand fried tomatoes. ‘We have to go now,’ Neve said, managing to extricate herself, her bag and her coat from the back of her chair without once touching Charlotte.