‘Exactly. Quite a spectacular flop. It took me to a bit of a dark place, made me reconsider…certain things. I’m not used to having my confidence dented. Anyway, I met Jessica at some lunch event, she told me about this place, about how much better it was living outside London, having space, fresh air, time to think. I made one visit here and the decision was easy. And of course Chips loves it, the freedom of the beach as well as the park. It’s better all round.’
‘So Jessica’s just a friend?’
She sensed rather than saw him look at her. ‘Just a friend. She’s helped me out, as I’ve said, and she’s fun to be around, but there’s nothing more between us. What made you so sure there was?’
‘You both called it Primrose Park. I guessed that you must know each other, because I don’t know anyone else who’s made that mistake.’
‘It’s not called Primrose Park?’
Cat shook her head. ‘It’s Fairview Park. It’s not even on Primrose Terrace.’
‘Well, I know that,’ Mark said. ‘I just took Jessica’s word for it. I wonder what other lies she’s told me. Maybe her friend’s not really a producer at all. Her whole life could be a fabrication. She could have earned all her money through drug trafficking or money laundering. She could be sending me off to London to be murdered.’
Cat laughed. ‘She got the name of the park wrong. It’s not exactly a crime.’
‘But look what it led to. At the very least, it’s delayed things between us. You thought I was unavailable.’
Cat stopped walking, her breath faltering. Valentino, sensing the change in atmosphere, started barking, and Cat automatically dropped to her knees to soothe the dog. She took her time, stroking each Westie in turn, then pushed herself back to standing. ‘You’re available?’
Mark grinned. ‘That depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On whether you are.’
Cat narrowed her eyes. ‘I’d like to get to know you,’ she said. ‘And not just looking after Chips, though of course I’ll do that. But more than that. If you’d like to?’
He held her gaze, smiled down at her in a way that made his features seem softer, the side of his face bathed orange by the sun. ‘So you are available. Good. When I’m back from London, let’s do things properly. Lunch, or dinner.’
‘OK,’ she said, her breath rushing back in a whoosh of elation. ‘That sounds great.’ She started walking again, unable to stay still a moment longer, her fingers dancing inside her pockets. The sun was nearly at the horizon, turning a fiery, coral red, the remaining people fading to silhouettes as they strolled, or jogged, or stood watching the sea.
Cat, Mark and the four dogs walked in contented silence, Coco trotting through the waves, Chips chasing new sights and smells, then running back to her master. Cat wanted to take a snapshot, to preserve it and play it over and over on a loop. She wondered how long the perfection could last, then pushed the thought to the back of her mind.
They moved away from the sea, to where the sand was replaced by uneven shingle. Mark offered Cat his elbow, and she put her arm through his, wrapping her hand round the soft leather of his jacket. They reached the edge of the beach, but he didn’t pull his arm loose. Instead he slowed his step, prolonging the short journey back to Primrose Terrace. Perhaps, thought Cat, realizing how dangerous it was to hope, he wanted the moment go on for ever too…
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