The Best of Friends by Alex Day (english novels to read .TXT) 📗

giggling; I can only imagine the parts of Dan that Naomi would like to have in her hands. I make him his second coffee and then observe him surreptitiously from across the room as I serve another customer. I get it – Naomi’s infatuation, I totally get it. He’s gorgeous, muscular and toned, his flawless tennis whites showing off strong, agile legs. It’s hardly surprising that a cafe manager in a provincial village with not much going on in her life should find him irresistibly attractive. I wonder what to report back to Charlotte, if anything. There’s something on her mind and I wouldn’t want to add to her troubles so perhaps it’s best to keep quiet, in a least said, soonest mended sort of way.

Dan and I meet again the next day for our Saturday match that has become a regular fixture. I’ve bought a new tennis dress with my earnings from the cafe, and I’m feeling pretty chipper. My money worries have eased, mainly due to finally making a wage but also because I have to say that Naomi is very generous. She allows me to take home food that’s still perfectly edible but past its expiry date so the cost of my weekly shop has dropped dramatically. In addition to this, Justin is seeing more of the boys, taking them out every other weekend. We meet halfway at a motorway service station and undertake a kind of hostage handover. I don’t like seeing them go but I know they need to spend time with their father – and I can’t deny being grateful to have a little more free time, especially now I’m working.

Justin is still living in London, and he’s only been able to afford a one-bedroom rental so far so they can’t really stay over, but he’s confident he’ll be able to get somewhere bigger soon. He told me proudly that his priority, over and above his own accommodation, was to increase his maintenance payments so the boys didn’t suffer. Clearly, this is only what he’s legally obliged to do but I dutifully thanked him nevertheless, and I can’t deny that the extra cash is a lifeline.

Everything combined, I’ve begun to make a dent in my overdraft at last and the satisfaction of seeing that red number diminish, even if only by the tiniest amount, cannot be overstated. I’m so used to my money disappearing like ice cream on a summer’s day that to have a little extra is a wonderful novelty – hence the celebratory new sportswear.

So I step onto the court this particular morning with a spring in my step. It’s hot already and the grass is no longer immaculate but scuffed at the service lines and browning at the edges. Dan is already ridiculously tanned, and his slanting eyes seem darker than usual, full of the confidence and allure of success. He must have been striking some really good deals recently.

‘How are you doing?’ he asks me.

I give a dismissive flick of my head. ‘What, since we last saw each other all of twenty-four hours ago?’ I tease.

‘Since whenever,’ he counters. ‘I’m genuinely interested.’

I can’t help but let out a sigh. Though in general things are going well, there are still plenty of flies in the proverbial ointment. For example, the struggle to get the boys to do their homework when all they want is to go out and play football, the sordid state of my house and its desperate need for regeneration – even with more funds coming in, there’s still nowhere near enough to undertake a renovation project. But, I remind myself, Dan doesn’t want to know all about my niggles.

Except, maybe he does.

‘That sigh sounded heartfelt,’ he jokes. ‘What’s bothering you?’

‘No, no nothing,’ I say. ‘Things are really good – better than I have a right to expect them to be. I’m glad I made the move here.’

Dan’s eyes crease seductively as he grins. ‘I think we’re all glad about that.’

A twinge pulls at my chest and I circle my arms to release it. My warm-up routine must be leaving something lacking, I think, and make a mental note to stretch more thoroughly in future.

‘But,’ he continues, ‘I can see you’ve got something on your mind.’

I shrug and grimace resignedly. ‘Oh, you know, it’s the stupid little things around the house that I should know how to fix myself but don’t, and it makes me feel so useless … For example, the kitchen tap needs a washer. It drips incessantly into the metal sink like some kind of Chinese water torture,’ I explain. I shake my head to show how annoying but at the same time trivial this little matter is. ‘And I don’t know any plumbers around here and I’m a bit anxious about how much one would charge me, anyway. First world problem, I know,’ I apologise in conclusion.

Now it’s out, and I feel more helpless and stupid than ever. But Dan takes it completely differently.

‘That is a right pain,’ he agrees. ‘What would you have done in the past? Got your ex-husband to sort it?’

I nod glumly. ‘Yes, Justin would have done it. I mean, it’s not difficult, is it? I’m just useless at that sort of thing and I’m worried that if I tried, I’d make it worse, cause a flood or something.’

Dan smiles his lovely crinkly smile. ‘I know I don’t look like Mr Fix-It,’ he says, ‘but a washer I can do. And actually, I quite enjoy DIY. I never do any at home because Charlotte won’t let me – doesn’t trust me, I think. She’d rather get tradesmen in who charge her an arm and a leg and let them mess it up instead.’

‘Oh,’ I splutter, somewhat surprised. Dan’s right. I didn’t have him down as someone who’s handy around the house, as well as all his other talents.

‘I’ll come round and do it for you,’ he suggests, not sounding in the least as if he feels he has to offer. ‘One