Adam was sitting in the game room when Leah arrived on Thursday. He stood up so quickly that his knee hit the table.
“Ow,” he said.
She stopped in the doorway. “Good start.”
“I have others.”
He smiled. She smiled back, and suddenly they were two people on a date who had no idea how to begin it.
Leah hung her coat on the back of a chair. Adam stayed on the far side of the table, giving her space she hadn't asked for but was glad to have. She had wondered how it would feel to see him here again. Now she knew: nervous, and pleased, and annoyed with herself for being quite so pleased.
“You're early,” she said.
“So are you.”
“I closed on time.”
“Miracle.”
“A customer came in five minutes before and actually knew what she wanted.”
“Did you make her wait while you checked?”
“It was very unsettling.”
He laughed. The tension eased enough for her to walk round to him.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hello.”
She touched his arm. He bent and kissed her cheek, just once. Leah caught the familiar scent of his soap. He drew back before she could decide whether to turn her face, and she was grateful and disappointed at the same time.
Through the open door she could hear a few people in the bar. The house opened on Thursday evenings even when there wasn't a private event. The game room had the same faded carpet. The crown was still on the portrait.
“Theo asked them to leave that,” she said.
“I saw.”
Adam looked up at it. “Suits him.”
“The man in the picture?”
“Yes. He's dressed for it.”
Leah laughed. She had forgotten how little Adam needed to say to catch her exactly where she was.
They went to the bar. The woman who had helped Theo on the stairs was serving. She greeted Leah, nodded to Adam and asked what they wanted.
He ordered and paid for both. The woman gave them their drinks, then went to serve a customer at the other end of the bar.
Back in the game room, Leah set her glass on the side table and rolled her sleeves up.
“First to five.”
Adam took his place. “You want the good goalkeeper?”
“I want the winning side.”
“Depends who's using it.”
“Brave words.”
She put the ball into the chute.
Adam scored almost immediately.
Leah stared at the little goal.
“You've been practising.”
“I've thought about practising.”
“That's worse.”
He watched her left hand. She sent the ball right instead. It missed the goal, hit one of his defenders and rolled obligingly to his front line.
“No,” she told it.
He scored again.
“You're talking to the equipment,” he said.
“I'm providing coaching.”
Leah bent closer to the table. She could see his hands turning the rods, quick and confident. He was waiting for her to try the shot he remembered. She waited too, letting the ball creep sideways along the row of players. He twitched. She hit, and this time the ball went in.
She shouted. Adam shook his head and tried not to smile.
The next two points were hers. Then he caught her attacking too soon and sent the ball through the gap. At four each, they both stopped pretending they weren't taking it seriously.
“No spinning,” he reminded her.
“I'm pure sporting grace.”
“Your ankle's on my side.”
She looked down. One foot had crept under the table. She moved it, and he hit the ball before she looked up.
It clattered into the goal.
Adam lifted his hands from the rods.
“I won.”
“You distracted me.”
“Your ankle distracted me.”
“That is the worst thing you've ever said on a date.”
He laughed, properly now, leaning his weight against the table. Leah looked at his face and felt her own smile change. There he was. She hadn't imagined him, or the way they could enjoy each other.
He noticed her looking. His laughter faded, but the smile stayed.
“Again?” he asked.
“Obviously.”
This time she took the damaged side because she was now determined to win under difficult conditions. She did, five to three. Adam agreed the little goalkeeper deserved a medal and refused to agree that she did.
They returned to their drinks. Leah sat on the old sofa beneath the window. Adam lowered himself beside her, leaving a small space.
Her arm was tired from the game. She rested it along the back of the sofa and found her fingers just behind his shoulder.
“How's the new place?” she asked.
“Busy. I rang nine places before I got that first shift. This one was the furthest away.”
“That's a long trip after a late finish.”
“It is. But I like the manager. He tells us when we're finishing, and then we finish.”
“Unusual talent.”
“I'm doing Friday and Saturday there. Got a couple of shifts somewhere else next week.”
“Good.”
“It's enough.”
She let her fingers rest against his shoulder. He went still for a moment, then relaxed.
“I saw you at that event,” she said. “When she called it a misunderstanding.”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
“You didn't know I could hear.”
“No.”
She nodded. That was what she had wanted to say. Adam put his glass down.
“I still want you,” he said.
Leah looked at his mouth.
“I gathered that from the very fast answer on Sunday.”
“I was trying to seem casual.”
“You failed.”
“Yes.”
He turned towards her. “Do you still want me?”
“I've taken you out and humiliated your goalkeeper. What more could you need?”
“That one's yours.”
“I still want you.”
He shifted closer. She put her hand against his chest, and his hand came up to cover it.
“I'd like to kiss you,” he said.
“You should.”
He kissed her slowly, as if they had all evening. She moved closer, her knee against his, and he touched her cheek with his free hand. Leah shut her eyes. For once there was no voice in her head telling her who else needed her or what someone would expect when they saw her leave.
When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers.
“Hello,” he said again.
She laughed and kissed him once more.
They left the house half an hour later. Adam was still insisting the damaged goalkeeper deserved the medal.
The air was colder now. She did her coat up while he stood beside her.
“Walk?” he asked.
“Yes.”
They went towards the river. The path was lit until it reached the bridge; beyond that, only windows in the houses on the other side made small squares of light. Leah put her hand in Adam's pocket because she had forgotten her gloves. His fingers closed round hers.
“You're stealing my heat,” he said.
“It's a competitive evening.”
He slowed at the bridge. She stopped beside him. The river was too dark to see except where it caught a reflection from a window. She leaned her free hand on the rail, and Adam waited without asking what she was thinking.
“Finn and I went climbing Sunday,” she said.
“How was it?”
“Good. Strange. I got tired much sooner than I wanted.”
“You'll get it back.”
“We're having breakfast this Sunday.”
Adam nodded. She looked at him.
“You don't have to pretend you're pleased with him.”
“I'm pleased for you.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I don't know what I'm going to say when I see him. I'm not going to make you decide that.”
She squeezed his hand inside the pocket.
“Good.”
A cyclist came over the bridge and rang his bell. They moved aside together. Leah laughed because Adam nearly stepped into a puddle, caught himself and then managed to step into it with the other foot.
“Grace,” she said.
“Yes. I was watching you.”
“Poor technique.”
“Very.”
She pulled his hand out of the pocket and put both her arms round him. This kiss was less careful. Adam held her against him, and the cold air no longer seemed much of a problem.
“I want another date,” she said when she could speak.
“When?”
“Sunday afternoon. After breakfast.”
“Yes.”
“There's that casual manner again.”
“I'm giving it up.”
They walked back through the streets towards her flat. Leah didn't ask him to come up. He didn't ask either. At the bakery door she turned to him and arranged the time, one o'clock, and the place, here. They would decide where to go when they met.
Adam brushed a loose strand of hair off her face.
“Thank you for tonight.”
“You don't have to thank me for wanting you.”
“For beating me, then.”
“You're welcome.”
He kissed her goodnight. She watched him turn the corner before she went in.
Upstairs, she put her coat on a hook and her keys in the bowl. Her phone rang while she was filling a glass of water. Adam's message was a picture of his wet shoe.
Injury.
She wrote, Design feature. Makes you streamlined.
Then she laughed alone in the kitchen.