The Billionaire's Blind Date (Valentine's Day Short Story). Jessica Hart

about your ankle, Mum?’ Clara put in. ‘You won’t be able to walk on it. How are you going to get to work?’

      ‘I’ll be fine when I get to the tube.’

      ‘Where do you work?’ asked P.J.

      ‘In the city,’ said Clara, disregarding Nell’s attempt at a quelling look. ‘It takes ages to get there,’ she added, blatantly fishing.

      P.J. didn’t disappoint her. ‘Oh, well, that’s easy, then,’ he said. ‘I’m going that way myself. I just have to drop off the kids first.’

       Kids?

      Jolted out of her annoyance at the way the two of them were calmly organising her life for her, Nell turned belatedly to where a car with sleek, expensive lines was pulled up, half on, half off the pavement. Three small, curious faces were staring through the back window at them.

      Three? And this was the man who hadn’t been ready for children at all! An extraordinary mixture of emotions—none of them explicable—churned around in Nell’s chest. Surprise, regret, disappointment, and worst of all something that felt suspiciously like jealousy.

      She didn’t know why she was so taken aback. Why shouldn’t P.J. have married and had a family just as she had? What had she expected? That he would have spent the last sixteen years pining for her?

      Janey had told Thea that he was single at the moment, and somehow it had never occurred to Nell that he might be divorced, like her. She had always thought of P.J. as someone who would make a commitment and stick by it, no matter what.

      Of course, Thea might have misunderstood. Why not accept the more obvious explanation? Nell asked herself. That P.J. was happily married with three gorgeous children, and a phenomenally successful career, while she was single, with one gorgeous child, and her career was best not thought about too much.

      ‘It won’t take long,’ P.J. was saying. ‘Their school is just round the corner.’

      Nell knew the one. It was an extortionately expensive private school, the kind of place she would never have been able to send Clara, even if she and Simon were still married. Not that expense would be an issue for P.J. now. You only had to look at that car and the immaculately tailored suit he was wearing to know that he could afford whatever he wanted.

      He had a very different life from her now, that was for sure. Not that it made any difference to her, Nell reminded herself. There was no reason for her to feel prickly and defensive the way she suddenly was feeling for some reason.

      ‘Really, there’s no need for you to give me a lift,’ she said shortly, and saw Clara looking puzzled at her tone. ‘I’m quite capable of walking, and anyway, the tube is much quicker than sitting in traffic. Thank you for the offer, but we really should go. Come along, Clara.’

      Sadly, her attempt at a dignified exit was ruined by the way her ankle buckled the moment she tried to take a step.

      ‘Mum, you can’t walk,’ cried Clara, obviously exasperated by her mother’s stubbornness. ‘Don’t be silly!’

      ‘Clara’s right,’ said P.J., and gave Nell a smile that made her heart do an alarming somersault. ‘You always used to be so sensible, Nell. Don’t tell me you’ve changed that much!’

      ‘You have,’ she said without thinking.

      ‘I’m sixteen years older and wearing a suit,’ he acknowledged, ‘but otherwise I’m just the same. I’m not suggesting you get into a car with a stranger. We used to be friends.’

      And lovers …

      The unspoken words hung in the air, and for Nell it was like a series of pictures flicking through her mind. P.J. reaching confidently for her hand, smiling as he drew her towards him. Lying by the river in the long, sweet grass, drowsy with sunshine, feeling the tickle of a feather on her nose, opening her eyes to see him leaning above her with that wicked grin. P.J. turning up at her door, half hidden behind a huge bunch of roses, when she passed her finals; holding her as she wept and wept for a lost dog.

      ‘Come on, Nell,’ he said with a smile that told her he remembered just as much as she did. ‘Get in the car and stop being silly like Clara says!’

      Clara giggled and hugged Nell, evidently taking it for granted that the matter was now decided. ‘Bye, Mum. See you tonight.’ She turned brightly to her new ally. ‘Bye, P.J. Don’t let Mum do anything she shouldn’t!’

      ‘Goodbye, Clara.’ He grinned. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after her.’

      Nell shook her head ruefully as her daughter ran off, school bag bumping against her back. ‘That girl …!’

      ‘She’s great,’ said P.J. ‘I like children with personality.’

      ‘She’s got that all right,’ said Nell with feeling.

      ‘Well, she’s issued her instructions, and I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if she finds out that you haven’t done as you were told!’ He held open the passenger door. ‘Come on, in you get.’

      It would be ridiculous to refuse now, and she could hardly run off with her ankle like this. With the distinct feeling that she was being managed, and not at all sure that she liked it, Nell limped over to the car and got in. Turning with a little difficulty, she smiled a hello at the children in the back.

      ‘Jake, Emily and Flora,’ said P.J., pointing affectionately at each one. ‘Kids, this lady I almost knocked over is an old friend of mine, Nell Martindale.’

      It was odd hearing her maiden name again. ‘Nell Shea now,’ she reminded him.

      ‘Of course. Sorry.’

      P.J. switched on the engine abruptly. He had forgotten Simon Shea there for a moment. Of course Nell had taken his name. She had been besotted with him. Stupid to think she would have changed it back.

      ‘We’re divorced, but I kept Shea so that I’d have the same surname as Clara,’ she said, almost as if she could read his mind.

      ‘Oh. Sure.’

      P.J. felt a bit better for some reason. He checked the mirror and pulled out into the heavy traffic as Nell engaged the children in conversation, discovering that they were nine, seven, and five and a quarter respectively, that they didn’t mind school but that they all hated Mrs Tarbuck, who shouted at them if they were naughty.

      Nell had always been good with children, he remembered, and had longed to have a baby of her own. He was the one who had resisted the idea, thinking that they were too young and that there would be plenty of time to start a family. More fool him, he thought bitterly. While he had still been hesitating, Simon Shea had swept Nell off her feet with his easy promises.

      P.J. was a quick learner. After that, he had seized every opportunity that had come his way. It had led to astonishing success and wealth beyond anything he had ever been able to imagine, but somehow none of it had ever quite compensated for the bitterness of that first hard lesson.

      In the back seat, the children were still chatting happily to Nell about the contents of their lunch boxes.

      ‘It sounds yummy,’ said Nell, thinking what engaging children they were. They didn’t look exactly like P.J., but there was a definite family resemblance and Jake, the boy, had the same alert blue eyes. Would their children have looked like this if they had married? she wondered a little wistfully.

      ‘But I don’t like banana,’ little Flora was grumbling, sticking out her lower lip. ‘Mummy always makes me have one. She says I have to have a bit of fruit, but I don’t see why I should.’

      ‘I’m afraid I make Clara have fruit every day, too,’ Nell confessed to Flora’s disgust. She might not like the idea of P.J. having a wife, but on some things mothers had to stick together.

      ‘Here we are.’ P.J. pulled up outside the school