for a pair of smart black trousers, a long-sleeved cerise T-shirt and low-heeled sensible shoes. Hopefully this would strike the right balance.
She was relieved when Tom turned up wearing black chinos and a light sweater. And she suppressed the thought that he looked utterly gorgeous, like a model. He was her friend. Right?
Joey’s seat was in the back of the car, but she noticed that Tom included Joey in the conversation, even though the little boy barely answered much above yes, no and—from what she could see in the rear-view mirror—a shrug.
Lunch was as excellent as Tom had promised. Flora noted that Tom helped Joey cut up his meat without making a big deal about it, just a soft, ‘Can I give you a hand with that, sweetheart?’ Tom really was a natural father figure, even though he clearly didn’t think he was good enough. And they all had fun with the ice-cream machine; Tom helped Joey make a huge mountain in his bowl, and the little boy looked really happy as he added sprinkles and sauces from the toppings bar. He decorated Flora’s and Tom’s ice cream, too.
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