‘That would be nice. I haven’t been on a bike since I was a youngster,’ Jane said.
The waitress served their chateaubriand and the sommelier brought over the wine and poured two glasses. He put the bottle down on the table.
‘The maître d’ said the wine is with compliments of the house, Mr Durham.’
Nick smiled. ‘Please thank him for me. It’s very much appreciated.’
Jane cut into her steak. ‘It’s the best I’ve ever tasted. It literally melts in your mouth,’ she said.
‘Try a bit of the red wine sauce,’ Nick said.
Jane poured a small bit on the side of her plate and dipped a piece of steak in it. Her face lit up as she ate it. ‘I think I’ve just died and gone to heaven,’ she said, enjoying the dark smokiness, the sweetness, and the acidity from the wine. She poured some more on her plate and realised what she’d just said. ‘I’m sorry, that was a thoughtless remark.’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t be silly. You’re enjoying yourself and that’s what matters to me. Tell me the layout of your house so I’ve got an idea of it before I come round tomorrow.’
‘It’s pretty straightforward, really. You’ve seen the lounge, and there’s a door leading to the dining room and the kitchen. There’s also a door from the kitchen into the hallway. Upstairs, there’s the master bedroom at the front, small double at the back, and a bathroom at the top of the stairs.’
Nick nodded, picturing the layout in his head. ‘As an off-the-cuff suggestion, I’d remove the wall between the living and dining rooms to open it up and give you a bit more space.’
‘Would that be expensive?’
‘Not really. You’d need to put a up a lintel to support the load above it if you take out the wall. You could use a wooden lintel which is cheaper than a steel one. Once that’s done, it’s just a case of making good with plaster and paint or wallpaper.’
‘Sounds like a good idea,’ Jane said, trying to imagine it.
‘I’d need to see your kitchen before coming up with any ideas about that. But if you go open plan, you can get rid of the door to the kitchen in the hallway. Then there would be enough room to make a recess in the kitchen, into which you could fit a large fridge freezer with space for a wine rack above. It’d be really cheap and easy to do with some plasterboard.’
‘That’s a brilliant idea.’
‘I’ll draw up some rough sketches for you tomorrow and then do some proper plans. If you decide to go ahead, I can organise everything for you at cost price. I reckon the work would only take two or three weeks tops.’
‘I’ll have to take a loan out to pay for it... if the bank will give me one.’
‘I’ll loan you the money. You can pay me back as and when. No interest.’
‘It’s very kind of you to offer, Nick, but I couldn’t...’
‘I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to. And with your permission, I could use photographs of the completed job as an advertisement for my designs for smaller houses. You’d be doing me a favour.’
‘Can I think about it?’
‘Of course, there’s no rush.’
The sommelier topped up their wine glasses and they didn’t talk much as they concentrated on their food.
‘Would you like a dessert?’ Nick asked.
‘I’m really full,’ Jane said.
‘What about a sorbet? It’s a refreshing palate cleanser — just what you need after a big meal.’
‘Can we share one?’
‘Of course.’ Nick got the waiter’s attention and ordered one sorbet, with an extra bowl and spoon.
After the waitress had served the sorbet, Nick scooped half of it into the other bowl then picked up the champagne.
‘Shame to let it go to waste,’ he said, pouring it over the sorbet. ‘It actually tastes really nice.’
Jane noticed the sommelier frowning as he watched Nick, barely able to disguise his disapproval. She and Nick giggled like a pair of schoolkids. Jane tried a spoonful. Nick was right: it was wonderful.
‘Would you like a coffee or a liqueur?’ Nick asked, finishing his sorbet.
‘I’m fine, thanks.’
‘I’ll get the bill and ask the maître d’ to call a taxi for you,’ Nick said with a sigh, as if he was sad their evening had come to an end.
‘I don’t want to go home yet,’ Jane said. ‘I thought we might go back to the pub, listen to the band, and have a dance... if you want to.’
Nick’s eyes lit up. ‘I’d love to. But I have to warn you... I’m no John Travolta.’
‘That’s probably because everyone mistakes you for Robert Redford,’ she said, remembering his quip when they’d first met.
‘You said Woody Allen yesterday,’ he retorted.
‘I know, but it’s also a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.’
Chapter Sixteen
There was a lively energy in The Olde White Lion as the band belted out The Rolling Stones’ ‘Brown Sugar’, and the flashing disco lights made the cigarette smoke look like a mass of swirling rainbows. The pub was packed and the dance floor full as the lead singer encouraged everyone to join in the chorus. ‘Brown sugar... how come you taste so good?’ rang out as people sang at the tops of their voices.
‘Is it always this busy on a Saturday night?’ Jane asked, raising her voice above the music.
‘Yes, thanks mostly to the band. If it’s too noisy for you, we can go down the road to a quieter pub.’
‘It’s fine, I like it here,’ she said.
‘What would you like to drink?’ Nick asked, getting his wallet out.
‘Please, let me get the drinks... and I won’t take no for an answer,’ she said firmly.
‘In that case, I’ll have a Bacardi and Coke. I just need to nip to the gents.’
Sandra was still behind the bar. Jane ordered Nick’s drink and a glass of white wine for herself.
‘Did you have a nice meal?’ Sandra asked.
‘It was the best food I’ve ever tasted,’ Jane said. ‘And Nick is great company.’
‘I hope your friendship blossoms into something more for both of you,’ Sandra smiled.
‘So do I,’ Jane replied without thinking, realising how attracted she felt to him. She was pretty sure Nick felt the same way about her.
Jane paid for the drinks and carried them over to a small table near the dance floor. The band was playing ‘London’s Calling’ by The Clash as Nick returned from the gents.
‘Is this your sort of music?’ Nick asked.
‘I like all sorts really,’ Jane said. ‘But I do like heavy rock, like Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple. I saw Janis Joplin live at the—’
‘Royal Albert Hall, twenty-first of April 1969. It was her one and only UK performance,’ Nick interrupted.
‘You were there as well?’ Jane asked, hoping he had been.
‘I certainly was,’ he said. ‘I remember everybody was up and dancing, which was unbelievable in a posh place like the Albert Hall. It was a night I’ll never forget.’
Jane grinned. ‘Same here. She put her heart and soul into every song. That raw voice she had was incredibly emotional.’
‘I know just what you mean,’ Nick said. ‘But the highlight of the night for me was when she sang “Piece of My Heart”.’
‘Now that song did rip your heart out,’ Jane agreed. ‘It made me cry back then, and still does when I hear it now.’
‘Can you remember who the support band was?’ Nick asked.
‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘Well, who was it, then?’ Nick asked.
‘It was Yes,’ she replied, knowing she was right.
‘I know you said yes, but who was it?’
‘It was the band called Yes!’
Nick laughed. ‘You fell for that one, didn’t you?’