would help to make some conversation, which they were desperately in need of in order to break the ice.
“Tim, what make is that car next to mine?”
“It’s an Aston Martin DB7, she’s a beauty, what I’d give to drive that for a day”.
“You mean you’d swap your precious van for one of those? Surely not”! She was being sarcastic again and the poor bloke had only made a simple and quite reasonable remark. What the hell was wrong with her? She softened her sarcasm with forced laughter. “Tim, how would you carry all your tools in that?”
“He hadn’t noticed that she was ridiculing him. He was happy, blissfully enjoying their evening out together.”
“Well, perhaps I could tow a little trailer behind it for all my junk?” he joked.
She’d got away with that remark, but if this evening wasn’t to end in disaster she had to start trying harder. The driver got out of the Aston and walked around to his passenger. He had his back towards her, but he was fairly tall and from this distance she couldn’t be sure. Could it really be Ratty? What if he was eating at the next table to them? As he turned, her mind was on the woman he was escorting towards the entrance. Who the hell was she? As they got nearer she gave a sigh of relief as she saw that they were both complete strangers. Her heart resumed its normal rhythm. Her Dubonnet arrived along with Tim’s beer. She picked up a menu and began to study it.
“I bet any money you’ll have the prawn cocktail for starters.” Tim said cheerfully.
“Actually I thought I’d have the whitebait, but you got the fish bit right! Let me guess what you’re having... garlic mushrooms, yes?”
“Of course Mel, I always have garlic mushrooms, you know that.”
“I know because you are totally predictable Tim, just don’t ask for tomato ketchup or I promise you I’ll get up and leave.”
“If that’s meant to be a joke, Mel, it’s not funny. You seem a bit prickly tonight. What’s wrong?”
“Well for one thing those trousers you’re wearing. Look around you Tim, look at the guy who’s just walked in, look at his trousers and then look at yours. They are ten years out of date, they’re the sort your Dad would wear.”
“Christ Mel, I don’t believe this. If you didn’t want me to wear these then why didn’t you say before we left home?”
“What was the choice Tim? Those or your bloody overalls I suppose. You don’t take any pride in yourself any more. And what’s that smell you’ve got on?”
“It’s Brut, you know bloody well what it is.”
“Yes Tim, I do and I expect everyone else in here knows as well. That’s probably why he sat us in this corner and why everyone at that table is laughing.”
“Why? What’s wrong with Brut. You’ve always liked it up until now.”
“No, I haven’t liked it, Tim, I put up with it.”
“Are you deliberately trying to spoil this night out Mel, because that’s how it seems?”
“No, sorry I shouldn’t have said that. Listen, tomorrow in my lunch break I’ll go into Superdrug and get you a bottle of something decent, maybe Hugo Boss or even Chanel if you’re lucky.” She smiled in a valiant effort to get their conversation back on track. Why couldn’t their relationship be normal any more?”
She began to quiz herself... what was normal? Sitting here in this beautiful restaurant with Tim wasn’t normal. He should have booked them a table at the Queen’s Arms. The food there was good and the prices were a quarter of what they were here. There he would have looked OK in his brown trousers and they could have gone in his van without looking out of place.
This would be a perfect place to dine with Ratty. He would be completely at ease. She glanced towards the Maitre de, half expecting him to be looking at them and smirking. What Tim had succeeded in doing by insisting on bringing her here was to embarrass her. What if someone from the bank walked in? She thought about asking Tim to swap
“Tim, what make is that car next to mine?”
“It’s an Aston Martin DB7, she’s a beauty, what I’d give to drive that for a day”.
“You mean you’d swap your precious van for one of those? Surely not”! She was being sarcastic again and the poor bloke had only made a simple and quite reasonable remark. What the hell was wrong with her? She softened her sarcasm with forced laughter. “Tim, how would you carry all your tools in that?”
“He hadn’t noticed that she was ridiculing him. He was happy, blissfully enjoying their evening out together.”
“Well, perhaps I could tow a little trailer behind it for all my junk?” he joked.
She’d got away with that remark, but if this evening wasn’t to end in disaster she had to start trying harder. The driver got out of the Aston and walked around to his passenger. He had his back towards her, but he was fairly tall and from this distance she couldn’t be sure. Could it really be Ratty? What if he was eating at the next table to them? As he turned, her mind was on the woman he was escorting towards the entrance. Who the hell was she? As they got nearer she gave a sigh of relief as she saw that they were both complete strangers. Her heart resumed its normal rhythm. Her Dubonnet arrived along with Tim’s beer. She picked up a menu and began to study it.
“I bet any money you’ll have the prawn cocktail for starters.” Tim said cheerfully.
“Actually I thought I’d have the whitebait, but you got the fish bit right! Let me guess what you’re having... garlic mushrooms, yes?”
“Of course Mel, I always have garlic mushrooms, you know that.”
“I know because you are totally predictable Tim, just don’t ask for tomato ketchup or I promise you I’ll get up and leave.”
“If that’s meant to be a joke, Mel, it’s not funny. You seem a bit prickly tonight. What’s wrong?”
“Well for one thing those trousers you’re wearing. Look around you Tim, look at the guy who’s just walked in, look at his trousers and then look at yours. They are ten years out of date, they’re the sort your Dad would wear.”
“Christ Mel, I don’t believe this. If you didn’t want me to wear these then why didn’t you say before we left home?”
“What was the choice Tim? Those or your bloody overalls I suppose. You don’t take any pride in yourself any more. And what’s that smell you’ve got on?”
“It’s Brut, you know bloody well what it is.”
“Yes Tim, I do and I expect everyone else in here knows as well. That’s probably why he sat us in this corner and why everyone at that table is laughing.”
“Why? What’s wrong with Brut. You’ve always liked it up until now.”
“No, I haven’t liked it, Tim, I put up with it.”
“Are you deliberately trying to spoil this night out Mel, because that’s how it seems?”
“No, sorry I shouldn’t have said that. Listen, tomorrow in my lunch break I’ll go into Superdrug and get you a bottle of something decent, maybe Hugo Boss or even Chanel if you’re lucky.” She smiled in a valiant effort to get their conversation back on track. Why couldn’t their relationship be normal any more?”
She began to quiz herself... what was normal? Sitting here in this beautiful restaurant with Tim wasn’t normal. He should have booked them a table at the Queen’s Arms. The food there was good and the prices were a quarter of what they were here. There he would have looked OK in his brown trousers and they could have gone in his van without looking out of place.
This would be a perfect place to dine with Ratty. He would be completely at ease. She glanced towards the Maitre de, half expecting him to be looking at them and smirking. What Tim had succeeded in doing by insisting on bringing her here was to embarrass her. What if someone from the bank walked in? She thought about asking Tim to swap
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