The Best of Friends, Alex Day [feel good books to read .txt] 📗

can tell – I know – that much as he hates losing, he admires a winner above all else.

And, after a gruelling three sets, I am declared the victor by a whisker. We’ve played often enough now for me to know that he’s definitely not letting me win because I’m female or Charlotte’s poor, abandoned friend or even his friend. I triumph on the occasions that I am the better player.

He looks me in the eye as he congratulates me.

‘I’ve never been put through my paces like you do,’ he says.

I smile and feel my cheeks redden – again. ‘Flatterer,’ I murmur in reply. I still haven’t quite got my breath back after the last, decisive rally.

‘No, seriously,’ he continues, an urgency in his voice that I haven’t heard before. ‘I play because it keeps me fit and I enjoy it so much more than a solitary sojourn in the gym. But you play like a professional, like you could go places.’

I pull my mouth into a lop-sided grimace. ‘Could have gone places, once upon a time.’ It’s a struggle to keep the bitterness out of my voice. ‘If I’d pursued it when I really had the chance. But it’s too late for regrets now.’ I look at him and try to smile. ‘Anyhow, at least I’m beating you fair and square.’

He laughs, his eyes crinkling in their sexy way, his expression all kindness and admiration.

‘You are so right. Your athleticism is too much for me. However, in another context …’

He lets the sentence hang, unfinished.

These statements that have a double entendre seem to be happening more and more often. Perhaps it isn’t just my overactive imagination.

Hurriedly, I snatch up my towel and racket and head off to the changing rooms. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him watching me depart and I’m conscious of his eyes upon me until I’m out of sight. Under the pounding water, I soap myself thoroughly, eradicating all traces of the sweat induced by the game, emerging cleansed and fragrant. Though, unlike Charlotte, I’m not a big drinker, I’m looking forward to one tonight. It’s been so long since I’ve been without ties or responsibilities, the children elsewhere, nothing to hold me down. Even before any alcohol, I feel light-headed and dizzy with the unfamiliarity of it all.

It’s the first time I’ve been to the Thai restaurant that stands proudly on the village high street, drawing foodies from all around to sample its authentic dishes. In all truth, I haven’t eaten out since I left London, and before that not for at least six months or so. I’m not sure what to order, surreptitiously scrutinising the prices and veering towards the cheaper options until Dan, without looking up from his own perusal of what’s on offer, says, ‘This is on me, by the way.’

I pause and bite my lip. I should refuse, insist on going Dutch, but if I do, I’ll be eating nothing but porridge and dandelion leaves until the end of the month. Dan is not just rich but stinking rich; if he wants to pay, I should let him.

As if to reinforce my thoughts, he continues, ‘It would give me the greatest pleasure.’ He waits until I’m looking at him and then forces me to hold his gaze. ‘I enjoy spending my money on things that I like. My watches, remember?’ He pauses, his smile so assured but at the same time so genuine that it melts my heart. ‘And taking a beautiful woman out to dinner is about the most enjoyable thing I can think of. Even better than a Rolex.’

The waiter arrives with glasses of champagne I didn’t even notice Dan ordering. He picks his up and holds it towards me and I do the same. He clinks my glass and leans forward to me.

‘Thank you for coming with me and entertaining me whilst I’ve been abandoned by my entire family.’

He gives a short laugh and then drinks a large glug of champagne.

A sudden sharp flash of understanding sears through me. He hates to be alone. He hates it when Charlotte takes the boys away from him for extended periods. He hates being left to his own devices, the house echoing, the bed cold and empty.

I sip my drink and, emulating his body language, lean forward.

‘I understand where you’re coming from. I’m, well, I’m an expert in abandonment,’ I confide in him. ‘It seems to be my forte.’

A memory is ringing in my ears as if I can hear her voice right now.

‘Tout est juste dans l’amour et la guerre.’

Those were Josephine’s last words to me as she shut my own front door in my face. The worst thing is that I had to look them up to find out what they meant.

All’s fair in love and war.

‘I’m so sorry, Susannah,’ Dan says, his voice low with sympathy and regret, unaware that Justin is far from the only disaster in my past. ‘You don’t deserve to have been treated like that.’ He clinks his glass against mine. ‘Here’s to a better future.’

We drink and put our glasses down on the table simultaneously.

‘You deserve someone who’ll give you everything and think himself lucky,’ continues Dan.

I swirl my champagne around in my glass and contemplate the popping bubbles. ‘Deserve doesn’t have anything to do with it, does it? Life doesn’t work like that.’

I don’t want to sound angry, cynical, but I’m afraid that I do. It’s hard not to. Involuntarily, I sigh deeply, and he takes my hand, just like he did so recently in the cafe. The waiter is hovering and Dan sends him away with a flick of the wrist.

‘If it’s worth anything – I’d like you to know that I would never have left a woman like you. I don’t know what your husband was thinking.’

Or what Charlie was thinking? I shrug helplessly and struggle to stop the tears that are pricking behind my eyes from pouring forth.

‘I’m sure it was me as well as