Matthew called a few days after their Mothercare encounter and they arranged to have dinner on Friday night. Hayley decided not to spend two hours getting ready but had a quick shower and reapplied her make-up instead, then settled for jeans, a white long-sleeved top and a pair of black suede boots. She wanted to look understated and casual.
Matthew took her to a restaurant in Brentford she’d never heard of called To Thai For.
‘If you can get past the name,’ Matthew said with a laugh as they walked past the elephant fountain and long wooden tables and benches, ‘the food really is to die for.’
They chatted over crispy shrimp cakes and gaeng keow wan gai. ‘You mentioned your brother has a disability?’ Hayley said and took another bite of the smooth, coconut-flavoured green chicken curry.
Matthew nodded. ‘Asperger’s syndrome.’
‘What’s that?’
‘It’s part of the autism spectrum.’
‘Is it serious?’
‘Well it’s not fatal or anything, so not serious from that perspective. It’s a behavioural disorder. Makes social contact really difficult for him.’
‘Oh, that sounds awful.’
‘Yeah, it can be. Alan had massive tantrums until he was almost fifteen. They didn’t diagnose him until he was a teenager.’
‘Shit,’ said Hayley. ‘That must have been tough on all of you.’
Matthew chased a shrimp cake around his plate with his fork. ‘Nobody could understand why he acted the way he did. One teacher told Mum it all came down to bad parenting. Dad was fit to be tied.’ He shook his head. ‘Alan always had to do things in a certain way, you know, like put his toys away in a specific order.’ He smiled. ‘He never wanted me to help clear up.’
Hayley laughed. ‘That’s convenient.’
‘Definitely.’ He sipped his Singha. ‘When he was ten he’d grown out of this green jacket and Mum wanted me to have it. I was only eight, but I remember him having this massive tantrum. Mum gave in and he went to school wearing a jacket two sizes too small.’ He put his fork down and looked at Hayley, his green eyes sparkling in the candlelight. ‘Is this getting a bit heavy for a first date?’
Hayley reached across the table and touched his hand. ‘Not at all – please, continue.’
‘Well, Alan didn’t hurt people deliberately, only if you got in the way when he freaked out, but he never hurt me. He struggled through mainstream school and did well at the subjects he liked. But he’s different and, well, kids can be mean.’ He scratched his temple, seemingly recalling unpleasant memories. ‘He regularly came home with a bloody nose or a black eye.’
‘He was bullied?’
‘Relentlessly. When I was twelve I got sick of it, hid behind some bushes and pounced on the two kids that had beaten him up again.’
Hayley wrinkled her nose. ‘Uh-oh. What happened?’
Matthew grimaced. ‘The headmaster suspended me for a week and said if it happened again I’d be expelled.’
‘Oops,’ Hayley said. ‘And Alan?’
‘They never touched him again and I earned a reputation of being well ‘ard.’ He laughed. ‘As if! That’s the only time I’ve ever been in a fight. I like helping people, not hurting them.’
‘Is that why you became a teacher?’
‘I think it’s made me a better one. But anyway, enough about my incredibly fascinating past as a juvenile delinquent – what about you?’
She smiled and told him about her work at Simpson & Partners and how much she enjoyed her career. She described her family, Ellen and Mark, and how she loved being an aunt but sometimes wondered if she had a maternal bone in her body.
‘I know what you mean,’ he said, his warm laugh gave her goose bumps. ‘We were like lost sheep in Mothercare.’ As he touched her hand with his long, slim fingers, the butterflies in Hayley’s stomach woke up and fluttered around softly. ‘I’m really glad you spoke to me.’
They didn’t notice that three hours had passed until the waiter started putting the chairs on the tables in a not-so-subtle hint. As Matthew drove her back to her flat, Hayley realised how much she’d enjoyed his company, how calm she’d felt in his presence all evening.
‘I had a great time,’ he said. ‘Can I see you again?’
She looked up at him and smiled. ‘How about dinner again soon? There’s a new Italian place on Hammersmith Road that’s got rave reviews. Apparently their tiramisu is the best.’
‘Oh, I think I know the one. It’s got etchings of the Bridge of Sighs on the front window, right?’ He snapped his fingers. ‘What’s it called again?’
‘Antonio’s.’
‘That’s it! How about next Friday? Same time? I’ll pick you up?’
As Matthew leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek, an image of him on top of her, both of them grinding and writhing, filled her mind. She brushed it away. This time, she decided, she’d take things slow.
*
Ellen and Mark’s wedding in May the following year was a low-key event, with family and close friends. They got married in Bromley Parish Church and had the reception at The Partridge. The temperatures soared to the mid-twenties and, with hardly a cloud in the sky, birds in the blossoming trees seemed to be happily chirping their approval to Ellen and Mark’s marriage. Despite what Hayley had feared would lead to an unorganised, slapdash celebration, it couldn’t have been more perfect.
At the reception, Matthew and Hayley danced to Bryan Adams’ ‘Everything I Do’. Wedding DJs had finally resumed playing the song following a collective but unofficial ban, imposed because the tune had spent sixteen weeks at the top of the charts five years earlier.
‘They look happy, don’t they?’ Matthew said, his hands gently resting in the small of her back, her arms draped around his neck.
Hayley looked at her friends. Ellen resembled a sparkling mermaid in her fishtail wedding dress and her hair in a loose chignon. As Mark stood proudly by her side, their smiles could have powered all of Bromley, and probably beyond.
‘What do you think their secret is?’ Matthew said.
‘Soulmates,’ Hayley answered without a moment’s hesitation. ‘They’ve been together for nine years and will be for another ninety.’
Matthew leaned in and softly kissed her on the lips. Hayley closed her eyes and kissed him back.
I’m lucky to be with such a nice man.
She’d expected him to morph from perfect gentleman into an uncaring arsehole at some point, but he hadn’t. He phoned when he said he would, arrived on time and always held the door for her. He pursued his own hobbies and encouraged her to do the same – even convincing her to sign up for some fitness classes. He took an interest in her work and she in his, and, in the rare cases when they argued, it felt like a discussion more than a row.
Sex in his apartment on their fourth date had been, well, nice. More Andie MacDowell and Hugh Grant in Four Weddings and a Funeral than Kim Basinger and Mickey Rourke in 9 ½ Weeks.
‘I hope we’ll be together for that long too,’ Matthew whispered in her ear, bringing her out of her thoughts and back to the wedding venue, and Hayley wondered why she couldn’t shake the feeling that they wouldn’t be.
Why isn’t what we have enough? What’s wrong with me?