Page 41 of When We Are Old

Matthew was here. Actually physically here. Making the old pine cupboards in the kitchen look shabby and tatty just by his sheer force of presence and beauty.

This wasn’t a dream.

“What exactly are you planning to do with this shop of yours?”

“Ma! He’s only just got it back.”

Matthew smiled and reached over to squeeze my hand. “It’s okay. I actually don’t know.” He stared at his wine for a long moment in which I wished I could beam every thought he had onto a movie reel for me to watch at my own leisure. “It felt important to me during my divorce, but now it’s mine I’m not sure.”

“Divorce?” Ma hissed the word like she spoke the tongue of the devil.

“Ma, I told you that.”

“Hm.” She eyed him closer. “And your family?”

“Seriously. Matthew, you don’t have to answer all these questions.” I glared at her. “Ma, try not to give him indigestion during his first meal with us.” I turned back and added. “You’ll soon discover that meals in this house are served with antacids as a pudding.”

Hannah, now dressed in a tracksuit and long-sleeved crop-top, snorted and looked momentarily proud of me.

“It’s fine.” He grinned and waved me off.

“My mam, brothers, their wives, my children, cousins, remaining aunts and uncles, they all live in Scotland.” He took a sip of wine and flashed me a brief wink.

“And ex-wife?”

“Yes.”

“And your children?”

“Ma!”

Matthew held up his hand to me. “It’s fine. Ewan is eight, Jack is six and they live with their time split between their mother and me.”

Ma shook her head. “It’s awfully disruptive to children, divorce.” I picked up my knife and considered aiming for her fingers. If I lopped one off the pain might stop her from talking.

“It is, but Julie and I, we are being civil, and I think the children benefit from two happy parents as opposed to two miserable ones.”

His gaze flicked over me and I cringed down in my seat.

“A happy marriage is a rare thing. Ronnie was so lucky with Paul.”

I wondered if anyone would notice or question me if I slipped off my chair and rolled under the table.

“That is true. She was incredibly lucky to meet Paul who was able to give her what she needed at the time.” He smiled wide. “Right, I should be going to check in at the hotel. It’s getting late.”

I held in my groan. This had been discussed in detail. Matthew hadn’t wanted to give Hannah the wrong impression, and neither did I. But I’d slept only once in Matthew's arms and my deep craving for more ached inside me like a hangry Cookie Monster.

After thanking Ma for her hospitality, which struck me as ironic considering Matthew and I had cooked the Bolognese sauce while mum quizzed his general knowledge under the guise of a crossword, I walked him to the door, pulling it behind us as we stood on the front step.

I shivered, but not because the air was chilled with March freshness. “You survived.”

“Did you doubt me?” He skimmed his nose along my cheek.

“No. Not for a moment.”

“Good.” Cupping my face in his hands he brought my mouth to his, but then hesitated. “Humour me?”

I smiled up at him. “I’ve already humoured you with this hotel idea. You could have slept on the sofa.”