Читать книгу From Fling To Wedding Ring - Karin Baine - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

‘SO, WHAT ARE your plans for the weekend?’ Talia queried once she’d swallowed the large bite she’d taken of her chicken salad sandwich. Her appetite certainly seemed to have improved since her return and Mollie was pleased in that motherly way that she was eating properly instead of skipping meals as she’d often been prone to doing before heading out for an evening of partying. These days she was more likely to be found at night propping up the other end of the sofa from her sister watching TV.

‘Um...laundry, decluttering my wardrobe, washing my hair...’ She’d neglected to mention Ben Sheridan’s strange visit or they would’ve spent the rest of their short meal break together arguing about how she shouldn’t have turned him down and how she would live the rest of her days as a dried-up old spinster full of regret.

‘Sounds like a riot.’ Talia rolled her eyes, apparently unimpressed by the proposed itinerary.

‘That doesn’t mean you have to stay in, too. There’s nothing stopping you from going clubbing or whatever it usually is you do in your time off.’ Mollie had never been one for the party circuit where copious amounts of alcohol and rash decisions often went hand in hand. Not since she’d suffered the ugly fallout of her previous poor judgement. Talia had done enough living for the both of them, even if the pace of her partying seemed to have slowed in the weeks since she’d come home from her travels.

Although it was Mollie who’d encouraged her to spread her beautiful butterfly wings when the job opportunity abroad had arisen at the end of their nurse training, she hadn’t realised the lonely life she’d condemned herself to in the process. She’d wanted to give Talia a new start, a new life away from the cruel childhood memories of home, but it had only been the start of a series of posts that had taken her all around the world and further and further away.

At least, until recently. Whatever had happened during those years of ‘finding herself’ and working the wanderlust out of her system, she was now pushing Mollie to explore her independence a little more, too. If Talia truly had returned as the more contented adult she claimed to be, not only did it mean having someone to share the problems at home, it would alleviate some of Mollie’s guilt from the past and offered her a slice of freedom she hoped hadn’t come too late to enjoy.

‘I’ve had my fun, Moll, and my time away has made me realise how unfair it was to leave you holding the fort back here with Mum all this time. I haven’t been much of a sister to you.’ It was an unexpected acknowledgement of her sometimes selfish behaviour, but Mollie didn’t hold a grudge when they hadn’t had the best role models in life from whom to take their cue.

‘I wouldn’t change you for the world.’ She gave her sister a friendly nudge with her shoulder.

There had been times, when she was consoling her mother after her latest heartbreak or trying to untangle her messy finances, when she’d wished her sister had been around to share the burden, but she also admired Talia’s free spirit. At least one of them had had the courage to put herself out there.

‘Well, it’s your turn now. I’m here to help out a bit more and give you the freedom you deserve. Which reminds me, weren’t you supposed to be going flat hunting at some point?’

‘I’m looking into it.’

‘Good. Mum and I have relied on you too much over the years to be the sensible one. You need to get out and have a bit of fun.’ Talia flicked the crumbs off her lap onto the grass for the sparrows hopping nearby.

‘I don’t know what’s brought on this sudden interest in my personal life but there’s no need to worry. I really have enough to keep me occupied in between shifts.’

‘Oh, yes, laundry and decluttering wardrobes are so much fun.’ There was no mistaking the sarcasm coming from a woman who’d probably done neither in her lifetime.

‘You forgot the hair washing—’ The truth was it suited Mollie to be so caught up in the mess at home when it always provided an excuse for her not to go out after work for drinks with her colleagues or those awful blind dates people kept trying to set her up on. There was no pressure to look or act a certain way when she was in her comfort zone, behind closed doors.

‘Well, I’ve organised something much more exciting to fill your time.’ There was something ominous in Talia’s tone as she tidied away the remnants of their al fresco lunch on the strip of greenery surrounding the hospital intended to give the illusion they were somewhere more tranquil than central London.

‘What have you done?’ Since her sister’s idea of fun usually involved high-octane, pulse-racing pursuits, she automatically went on meerkat alert, watching and listening for danger coming so she could take appropriate action.

‘I put your name down for that dance competition they’re doing. I thought a bit of excitement would do you good.’

The casual manner in which Talia tossed the information to her gave no credence to the chaos unleashed with those few words. Mollie could almost hear the ping as her nerves finally gave way with the implications of her sister’s actions. That image of a scowling surgeon once he’d realised his valuable time had been wasted came to mind and sent shudders across her skin. She might’ve had the upper hand then, when she was the innocent party, but his patience might not accommodate a meddling sister. The custom in this sort of situation had always been for Mollie to take the flak anyone directed at her sibling. Such was the burden of guilt.

‘Why would you do that?’ Her voice reached soprano level as she fought to understand what would make her sister carry out such an act of stupidity when she’d only just secured her own position in the hospital.

‘Because I knew you wouldn’t,’ Talia answered with a huff, as if that excused everything. Perhaps she hadn’t done as much growing up as hoped.

‘That’s because it’s the last thing on this earth I would ever want to do.’ Her temperature was steadily rising along with her heart rate.

‘Gowns and glitz...what’s not to love?’

‘Er...a load of people staring at me.’ The very idea of shuffling around the dance floor in one of those flouncy ballroom dresses was already bringing her out in a cold sweat and that was before they even acknowledged the fact that she couldn’t dance.

Talia had never really understood Mollie’s anxiety about her appearance, probably because she’d never confided in her about how much it had affected her. It had been easier to simply accept the ‘boring twin’ tag than attempt a mature conversation on a painful subject.

‘It’s only a bit of fun and, you know, there are all those sexy young doctors for you to tango with...’ Male attention had always been Talia’s solution to any worries and Mollie had never corrected her when she assumed the one disastrous serious relationship she’d forayed into was the reason she preferred the single life. While it had contributed, her ex’s horrified reaction to seeing her naked body, pretattoos, had plunged the dagger into what little left there had been of her self-confidence. There was no way she was tangoing with anyone, fully clothed or otherwise.

‘If you’re so keen, why didn’t you volunteer?’ There hadn’t been any sign of a significant other, nor had Talia shown any interest in venturing into the dating pool herself lately, which was so unlike her. Mollie was sure there’d been some sort of heartbreak behind her sudden desire to come home, not that she’d admitted it so far except to say things hadn’t worked out the way she’d planned.

‘I’m still a newbie around here. I doubt I’d bring in the money a well-established, well-respected specialist nurse could raise for a good cause.’

Flattery didn’t work with Mollie—compliments of any kind always made her suspicious when she was so aware of her every flaw—but she could see Talia’s intentions had been honourable. If there was one thing Mollie would always prioritise over her own comfort it was her sister’s welfare. She was still a newbie and Mollie didn’t want her new start jeopardised because she’d unintentionally ticked off senior staff. It could be easily rectified and they both knew it was only a matter of time before she caved and did whatever her sister wanted anyway. Her part in this well-rehearsed dance was to at least make a half-hearted protest so she didn’t seem like a complete pushover.

‘Do not ever volunteer me for anything else again.’ She knew Talia was only trying to help in her own way and didn’t want to discourage her from future endeavours—as long as it didn’t include putting her forward for things without her express consent first—but it was going to take all the courage she could summon to face Ben Sheridan and tell him there’d been a mix-up and she would be taking part after all.

That conversation wasn’t the only issue liable to keep her awake at night. Dancing would leave her exposed in ways she’d avoided for over a decade.

* * *

Tracking down a surgeon was no mean feat in a busy hospital. Mollie couldn’t even be sure he was here when he was in such high demand around the country. She’d refrained from having someone page him, doubting she could justify this as an emergency even if it was to her. She wouldn’t be able to relax until she’d sorted this mess out. Although, confirming her participation in the competition was merely going to create another problem for her to obsess over and direct her anxiety down another path.

By the end of her shift and numerous phone calls to the relevant departments it eventually became apparent that he was no longer in the building.

‘Try The Shed,’ was the general advice forwarded by those staff members who took an interest in his private life.

She could’ve waited until the next day to ask him to reinstate her place in the competition but when further enquiries, and a quick internet search, revealed The Shed was only two stops away on the Tube she decided to rip the sticking plaster off as quick as possible.

Just because she’d taken time to change and refresh her make-up before leaving work it didn’t mean she was making an extra effort for a certain surgeon. She wanted the protection of her most effective armour before going into battle.

Her vintage style was an acquired taste for some, but it had never been intended for anyone else’s benefit other than her own. That fifties’ retro look had seemed so glamorous to a young girl who’d struggled to accept her disfigured body and, after the accident, she’d adopted it in an attempt to project that confident image she so envied. She was grateful her face hadn’t been left permanently scarred in the accident and she liked to make the most of her best asset to take the focus off those areas she constantly worried about. The moment she painted on that bright red lipstick and winged black eyeliner she at least looked as though she were ready to tackle the outside world even if she was quaking on the inside.

It was only when she turned the corner towards the slightly run-down row of commercial buildings that she wobbled ever so slightly in her navy-and-white polka-dot platform shoes. Far from the glorified outhouse she’d pictured in her mind, ‘The Shed’ was housed on glass-fronted shop premises with the man she’d come to see visible through the window, or at least the bottom half of him encased in paint-splattered tight denim standing at the top of a ladder. The sight made her question if she was doing the right thing by encroaching on his personal time when he was clearly no longer in professional doctor mode. When she stopped to think about it she wouldn’t have appreciated him turning up at her house unannounced.

He began to descend the ladder and her chance for escape vanished as he spotted her through the window and waved her in with one hand while balancing a paint tray and paintbrush in the other.

‘Mollie!’ The sounds of hammering and drilling ceased as he announced her entrance to the room full of volunteers.

‘Hi,’ she mumbled, trying to block out all the eyes trained on their exchange.

The sudden turnaround on her decision to take part might cause him even more inconvenience and she’d no idea how this news was going to be received. With any luck he’d already picked up another partner since they’d last spoken, all this worry was for nothing and they could go back to being members of staff whose paths occasionally crossed during the course of their mutual patients’ treatment.

‘What brings you here? The sudden urge to brush up on your carpentry skills or add your name to our list of volunteers?’ The friendly welcome was a far cry from the prickly atmosphere that had developed between them at work and took Mollie by surprise. If he was disturbed by her sudden appearance he hid it very well as he guided her away from the centre of attention towards the back of the room, leaving everyone else to go back to their woodwork and chat.

‘Er...maybe next time. Although I’m not entirely sure what I could do to help.’ Seeing him sacrifice what little time he probably had free on his busy schedule guilt-tripped her into suggesting she might be talked into a second visit. One that would see her rolling up her sleeves and getting dirty, no less.

‘Every little helps. I can’t say my own skills go beyond touching up the paintwork every now and again but I try. As you can see.’ He gave an apologetic nod towards his emulsion-covered attire, which drew Mollie’s attention to the faded grey T-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. It left much less to the imagination than the loose cotton shirt he’d been wearing earlier. Probably for health and safety reasons when that small patch of smooth skin showing through the sizeable rip in the shoulder seam was so distracting.

She forced herself to maintain eye contact. ‘It looks great. Fresh.’

‘We’re expecting the dance competition to bring us a lot of interest in the local press so we’re trying to spruce the place up. We want any potential donors or sponsors to see the potential in keeping this going for the community.’

She could see that they were all working hard to make a good impression on those who held The Shed’s sustainability in the folds of their wallets, as there was as much cleaning going on around here as there was woodworking. That urge to offer her help became too great for her conscience to ignore.

‘Perhaps I could come back some time and paint a mural on the wall to brighten things up a bit?’ She was already thinking of how she could add trailing vines and other elements inspired by nature to give the workspace more colour and character and make it seem more homely and less clinical. If he was willing to offer an olive branch there was no reason she couldn’t do the same.

‘That would be amazing! Thank you.’

‘The reason I actually came here—’ She tried to steer them back towards the purpose of the visit before she ingratiated herself any further into this little group.

‘Would you like a tour?’ In his delight at having secured another member into their army, he apparently didn’t seem to care about why she was here and only that the enchantment of watching their endeavours would keep her here.

Before she could decline he’d rested his hand in the small of her back and was gently manoeuvring her towards the source of the noise hammering away in the background. Even though he was touching a part of her body that didn’t usually cause her any discomfort—untarnished by jagged reminders of the accident—that slight contact made her skin burn with the same self-awareness. It was a long time since anyone had laid a hand on her but she was going to have to get used to it if she was expecting to take up ballroom dancing.

‘This is Tom, our man in charge.’

He seemed oblivious to the tingling sensation he was causing to ripple across her skin as he introduced her to the older man in the navy coveralls and safety glasses. In the end she had to take a step away to break the contact under the guise of saying hello to Tom, who was planing long lengths of wood at the back of the shop.

Ben continued with the tour to show her the fruits of their labour lining the walls. ‘The men start off with small projects, such as planters and bird boxes, which they go on to sell and raise funds for more materials, but the experts like Tom here have progressed to things like dog kennels and tables. We even recycle the offcuts of timber and bag them up for firewood to help with the costs. We don’t like to waste anything here.’

Including time, Mollie suspected, which brought her back to the reason she’d spared some of hers to come here tonight. ‘I’m very impressed with the whole set-up but I actually came here to tell you I’ve had a change of heart over the dance competition. I am going to take part after all. If it’s not too late to re-register my interest?’

She didn’t enjoy portraying herself as indecisive or as flaky as some of her family members when she’d always prided herself on being the reliable one. This turnaround only hours after denying all knowledge of her addition to the list of competitors could seem as though she was just being contrary this afternoon because he’d interrupted her clinic.

He raised an eyebrow but thankfully didn’t question the change of heart. ‘Not at all. It saves me having to strong-arm a reluctant replacement to make up the numbers.’

Somehow she doubted he’d have trouble trying to persuade anybody to do anything. If she’d waited until tomorrow to tell him there would probably have been a queue of women waiting to take her place in his good books. It was the sound of her sister’s voice in her head telling her she needed to get a life of her own that stopped her from backing out again. She might’ve made the mistake in thinking he cared about who took part in this competition but Talia was probably right—it would do her good to do something out of her usual routine.

‘So, is there an information day or something where the couples will be announced?’ Now she’d committed to taking part she was keen to know the finer details, and her mother had forced her to watch enough of those dancing shows to know it was a big deal to find out who you were paired with. Okay, she doubted there were any celebrities in the mix, but she was sure they’d create something of a buzz to kick-start the interest in tickets for the event. Although she wasn’t eager to get up close and personal with her colleagues any time soon, it might put her mind at rest if the other half of her team had some sort of dance experience. She didn’t want to be the joke act of the competition, literally being dragged around the floor with all the grace of a baby elephant.

‘We did the launch this afternoon. That’s why I came looking for you...’ He shrugged an apology but Mollie was happy to have dodged whatever spectacle had taken place. She wouldn’t be so lucky next time.

‘Sorry. I really didn’t mean to mess you around.’ It was Talia who should be taking the heat for this and standing here hanging her head in shame, not her. She might have covered for her sister’s screw-ups when they were kids but, as she was professing to be a grown-up now, this was the last time.

‘No harm done.’ Either the paint fumes had got to him or he was genuinely a much more relaxed man outside work, because he didn’t appear fazed at all by the inconvenience.

Mollie, on the other hand, had spent every second since clocking off having this conversation in her head, imagining being forced to make a grovelling apology while his temper exploded again like Bonfire Night fireworks. Now she was wondering if she should have worried at all and simply left things alone.

‘If you could give me the details of whoever my partner is, I’ll be on my way.’ A name or a number would be sufficient so she could go and collapse into a puddle of nervous exhaustion at home and let him get on with his second job here.

‘That’ll be me.’ He carried on cleaning his paintbrushes on the dirty rag he’d pulled from his pocket and no one would ever have guessed he’d just turned her world upside down.

‘You?’ She waited for him to burst out laughing and tell her he was only joking, and that actually John, the elderly porter at the clinic, was her real partner. That would have been preferable to the thought that she was expected to spend the next weeks grinding up against the hospital hunk when the mere brush of his hand at her back had her jumping as if she’d been scalded.

‘That’s not going to be a problem, is it?’

Yes, it was going to be a problem! She could scarcely be in the same room as him without getting all hot and bothered and frustrated at herself for finding him attractive despite all those qualities that normally made her want to run in the opposite direction. Not only was he rumoured to be the workplace Lothario, but she’d seen him when things didn’t go his way and she had no intention of inviting another volatile man into her life. She didn’t want to be fooled like her mother and get hurt as a result.

Although none of what had happened tonight was making any of this easier for her. She didn’t need to see a softer guy who did charity work and didn’t get upset when she changed his plans at the last minute—that wasn’t going to help her get over this nonsensical crush that made her pulse race every time their paths crossed. Neither was spending countless hours of rehearsal time pressed cheek to cheek and everything else up against him, but what choice did she have now? It was going to be pretty obvious the issue she had was a personal one if she pulled out now, and not the one he would probably assume. Retreating from the situation was just going to lead to more friction at work, since there was no way she could tell him the real reason she didn’t want to be paired with him. She was in a no-win, no-escape-from-this-attraction situation. All she could do was hope it would end once the pressure of the competition claimed her attention.

‘No. Of course not. I’m looking forward to dancing with you.’ The lie burned her tongue. Her scars already felt as though they were shining out from beneath the tattoos, declaring her damaged goods in comparison to the numerous beauties he’d been linked to in the past.

She could imagine twirling around the floor, the raised skin where she’d been sewn back together mapping out the story of her life beneath his fingertips and making him recoil in disgust. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had rejected her because of the way she looked, although she’d sworn it would be the last time anyone would have the opportunity to get that close. The dent in her confidence had been partially repaired with the magic of a tattoo needle, but even that only managed to disguise the trauma her body had gone through from a distance.

‘Dancing? Who’s dancing?’ One of the elderly gentlemen who’d been pottering around nearby now sidled up to engage in the conversation.

‘We’re just talking about the competition, Grandad. This is Mollie, from work. She’s going to be my partner. Mollie, this is my grandfather, Hugh Sheridan.’ There really was no need for Ben to make the introduction as the family resemblance was obvious. Although the hair was a lustrous snowy white and the brilliant blue eyes surrounded by deep laughter lines, Mr Sheridan senior was basically an older version of his grandson.

‘Nice to meet you, Hugh.’ She reached out her hand to greet him but, rather than shaking it, he lifted it to his lips and dropped a kiss there instead.

‘Lovely to make your acquaintance, Mollie.’

The old-fashioned flattery brought a flush to her cheeks and it was easy to see where Ben had inherited his charm from.

‘I taught Ben everything he knows,’ he said, with that same twinkle in his blue eyes she’d seen in his grandson’s on her arrival.

‘I’m sure you did.’ There was probably a Sheridan Handbook for Seducing Women tucked somewhere between the family photos, she surmised, given how easily she’d already fallen for their routine.

‘I was quite the mover in my day.’ As if to prove the point, he tugged Mollie towards him, put her hand on his shoulder and began to sway. With one hand gently resting at her waist, he whisked her around the floor, moving so quickly it stole her breath away. He was such a strong lead, so adept, it didn’t seem to matter she didn’t know the steps to whatever song he was humming. Ordinarily she would’ve been mortified by the display they were putting on for the others in the room, but there was something reassuring in the confidence of her partner’s steps that put her at ease. If Ben had indeed inherited his grandfather’s skills as well as his looks, they might actually be able to salvage something of this shambles.

* * *

‘Put her down, Grandad.’ Although Ben was always delighted to see his grandfather having fun and being his old smooth self, he didn’t want it to be at the expense of Mollie’s comfort levels.

He’d been afraid to question what had prompted her decision to take part again for fear of scaring her off when she was clearly already skittish about participating. After their previous run-in it was a big step for her to seek him out here, especially when she’d so vehemently denied entering the competition in the first place. He certainly didn’t need his grandad scaring her off again. Not everyone responded well to having him around.

Hugh spun Mollie out with a final flourish that sent her off balance in her peep-toe spotty wedges and forced Ben to step in before she clattered into the nearby metal shelving.

‘Sorry,’ Mollie mumbled into his chest as she collided into him, her hands warming the skin beneath his T-shirt. He was lost in those eyes staring up at him, shifting from green to blue like the ever-changing tides. He’d always thought her pretty but seeing her up close like this, away from the work environment, he was free to appreciate the beauty of her quirky style. Not only did she look like one of those sexy fifties’ pin-ups, but she emitted that same look-but-don’t-touch vibe. Especially when she was pushing away from him and putting as much distance between them as possible. A detail that could prove awkward for the purposes of her visit.

‘You’ll have to work on your showmanship if you want high scores from the judges. They like a bit of flair.’ His grandfather was oblivious to any discomfort he’d caused as he went on to critique his unsuspecting dance partner.

‘I’ll remember that.’ Mollie humoured the comment with a smile and retrieved her red and black, cherry-embossed bag from the floor where it had fallen in the melee. She brushed the sawdust off it and Ben hoped it wasn’t one of those designer pieces that cost more than a small car.

‘Gran and Grandad were ballroom champions in their day. They were the ones who taught me to dance.’ It had been an attempt to instil some discipline and respect into their wayward grandson. Like any sullen teen, he hadn’t appreciated it at the time, but now those steps reminded him of that precious time he’d spent with people who’d loved him and genuinely wanted the best for him.

In the beginning Ben had thought engaging him in the fundraising efforts was a good idea since they were dealing with two areas very close to his heart. After this display he was beginning to think his involvement might turn out to be more detrimental than beneficial to the cause. Still, he wasn’t doing this to win any glitter-ball trophies. At least here, under supervision, his grandfather was still made to feel useful, undertaking the less perilous tasks of sanding down the wood.

‘Perhaps you’d be able to show us a few pointers when the time comes?’ It was refreshing to find Mollie offering to involve his grandfather in the proceedings when so many often regarded him as a nuisance. Including his ex, Penny, who’d seemed to regard him as competition for Ben’s attention.

That simple acceptance had his grandfather grinning from ear to ear. ‘I like this one, son. She’s much nicer than that last one.’

The slap he gave Ben on the back before he walked away whistling almost knocked the air from his lungs. It was as close to a compliment as anyone could get from him. These days he wouldn’t be long making his opinion known if he found fault with anyone. Another reason he and Penny had found it impossible to even be in the same room together. He’d frequently commented on his dislike for her and Ben wasn’t altogether convinced it had solely been down to his condition. With hindsight he’d concede her actions at times could’ve been considered selfish, especially when she’d given him the ultimatum between choosing her or his grandfather—a contest she could never have hoped to win. Ben owed him too much, loved him too much, to throw him on the scrapheap without a second thought.

Unfortunately, this unconventional introduction left him having to make an explanation to his work colleague about a part of his life he tried to keep private. He did his best to keep the details of his grandfather’s decline in health since his retirement out of the public domain, but that secrecy had left Ben’s own personal life open to speculation and exaggeration. A price he was more than willing to pay to preserve the reputation his grandfather had built over the years as an eminent local GP.

‘Sorry about that. He didn’t get along with my ex.’

‘She didn’t like dancing?’ The droll reply managed to make him laugh and he appreciated the attempt to remove some of the awkwardness of having to discuss his personal life with her. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d taken great delight in hearing about his failed relationship when he hadn’t been the nicest person to her in the past, but it obviously wasn’t in her nature to be malicious. It gave him hope that, whatever personal issues were uncovered during their time together in preparation for this competition, she wouldn’t try to use them against him. Plus, that sense of humour he hadn’t known she possessed might actually help make this experience less of a chore for them both.

‘Not a fan of Hugh Sheridan’s in general.’ It occurred to Ben that he’d had no idea if Penny enjoyed dancing or not. In their eighteen months together he couldn’t remember a time when they’d actually done it for fun. They’d attended all the usual evening functions together that demanded their attendance as representatives of the hospital, but she had always seen them as a way to make connections rather than an excuse to cut loose on the dance floor with him.

‘Ah. Do you two come as a package deal?’

‘Something like that.’ He was reluctant to get drawn into the whys and wherefores of it all now, when the two of them were just beginning to get along. Any difficulties would probably make themselves apparent in time anyway and she’d realise why no other woman was willing to stick around for long. The very fact she was still here after that display was already an improvement on recent records.

‘Well, uh, I look forward to dancing with both of you. Just tell me when and where.’ She slipped her bag up over her shoulder and made a move to leave. Ben should have realised a young, beautiful woman had somewhere else to be. Not everyone spent their free time socialising with pensioners and volunteering manual labour. She’d look more at home sipping cocktails in an exclusive wine bar or whizzing along the coast in a convertible car than she did here in the grime and chaos of The Shed, but he wasn’t ready for her to go.

They’d had that run-in at work but he liked that she’d challenged him, questioned how every course of treatment would affect her patient personally; it showed she cared. He’d slipped up that one time, becoming more confrontational than usual after a rough night trying to get his grandfather settled, but, now she was here laughing and joking and shedding that frosty image she unknowingly projected at work, he couldn’t wait to start the lessons. It would do him good to be around someone younger for a change and remind him he hadn’t totally surrendered his right to fun in order to look after those who needed him.

‘We have a room upstairs we hire out for meetings and classes. No one’s using it for the next few weeks so I thought it would be perfect for rehearsals.’ It also meant he could split his time between The Shed and dance rehearsals without having to go home in between.

‘Sounds good. We can compare work rotas and figure out a schedule but I’m free tomorrow night unless any emergencies arise.’

‘Me, too.’

‘So I guess that means it’s official then... We’re doing this.’

He could see Mollie’s apprehension in the way she was biting her lip and nibbling off a patch of that bright red lipstick until she was starting to make him nervous about the extra commitment he was taking on here, too.

‘In that case I’ll see you same time tomorrow then, partner.’

She stopped worrying her lip long enough to smile at him; an acceptance that no matter what challenges lay ahead they were in this together. In that moment he was prepared to clear his entire schedule to make time for her. And the competition.