Chapter 5 – Misunderstandings

Louise knew Bobby’s address from his personnel file, but she had no idea about the neighbourhood, other than that it was suburban.

As it turned out, it was quite leafy and peaceful. The apartment was at street level, and the entrance was clean and bright.

Bobby parked the car, and went round to open Louise’s door and help her out. She was grateful – the leather gear was not very practical for getting out of a low vehicle like this, and the boots – black, knee-high, and with small platforms and five-inch heels - didn’t help.

As he pulled her up by the hands, somehow she managed to snake her arms round his neck till there was not a millimetre between them. She looked up into his eyes, tilted her head, and parted her lips.

Bobby could not mistake this invitation, nor could he resist it. Sliding his arms round her and holding her tightly to him, he pressed his lips to hers, parting her lips further with his tongue, and slipping it into her mouth.

They stayed locked in this position for some moments before Bobby pulled his face from hers and said, “What would the neighbours say?” He smiled shyly.

Bobby took her into a small hallway from which led a large kitchen. But Bobby steered her to the right, towards a cosy, masculine living room, decorated in blacks, greys and browns.

Ushering her to the plush black sofa, Bobby offered to get her something to drink.

“Coffee would be good,” she said, rather deflated that he had not whisked her straight into the bedroom.

Bobby went to the kitchen, leaving Louise free to explore. One wall was floor-to-ceiling bookcases. There were books on a wide range of subjects – psychology, crime, law, art, history, and of course literary works of all kinds and from all periods. A man after her own intellect. The music collection was just as eclectic, from Mozart to The Beatles, and a lot of more recent stuff she herself could not appreciate.

She was just about to thumb through some of his magazines when Bobby returned with the coffees. She sat on the sofa, and he put her cup in front of her before himself settling at the opposite end. Louise’s heart sank. She had been too forward. She had misread Bobby’s feelings. All sorts of reasons for her failure to attract him ran through her head, but top of the list was her complete inability to form relationships other than working ones.

Bobby’s thoughts were both similar, and completely different. In the kitchen, he had tried to imagine why she had draped herself over his car with the apparent intention of seducing him. He was too old, too poor, too ordinary. No, scratch the “too poor”, she was not that shallow. But she had arrived with Sam Deed, dressed to kill, and the only possible explanation that made any sense was that she meant to attract Sam, but having failed, and being a little the worse for drink, was resigned to putting up with his older, greyer counterpart.

Feeling grim, he finished making the coffees and returned to the living room. Louise was browsing through his record collection, as he might have expected had he thought about it. When she sat at one end of the sofa, he could not bring himself to sit beside her. He didn’t want to put her in a position she would regret in the morning, so he sat at the opposite end. Straight away, he could feel her disappointment. Better now than later, he thought. He launched into a conversation that must bring her to her senses.

“So,” he said, “how long have you known Sam Deed?”

So that’s it, she thought, he imagines a relationship between Sam and me. Or perhaps he thinks I’d like one. Let’s give it to him straight.

“Sam is engaged to a young woman who used to work with me at one of the charities,” she said. “In fact, it was her idea for us to arrive on Sam’s bike – she even lent me these leathers.” She stretched out an elegant leg and twirled the ankle. “I really should have brought something to change into.” In fact, all she could think of was peeling them off – or having Bobby do so for her.

Bobby looked abashed. But he was still not convinced that she knew what she was doing, this lovely young woman who could have anyone she chose. Why would she opt for an average guy like him?

“You work too hard,” he said. “You should be out with your friends, having fun.”
“What friends are those?” Louise asked. “Even Sam’s girlfriend is only a former colleague. I don’t make friends easily.” Or lovers, she thought.

“I can’t believe that,” said Bobby. “You’re smart, beautiful, kind –“

“And totally unable to form relationships,” she finished off his thought with one of her own.

“Don’t forget that my childhood was spent being passed around by my parents to anyone who would agree to look after me, so that they could go off gallivanting in their carefree way. I never spent two school breaks in a row with the same people. Though there was a long queue to take me, because my parents paid so well to have me taken off their hands.”

Bobby hadn’t realised how neglected she had been, how desperate she was for affection. Was he up to the challenge of providing her with loving support? He moved along the sofa and put his arm round her. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. Contentedly.