Chapter Fourteen
As soon as Tamsin had clocked Diane at the pub, as far as she was concerned, her date with Sarah had been over. The woman was nice enough and, just like Tamsin, loved doing up old furniture—and she only lived about ten miles from her.
Many boxes had been ticked, and Tamsin had been willing to give the whole thing a chance, despite Sarah being quite a few years older than the women she was used to dating—or perhaps even because of that. Then Sarah had mentioned the lady staring at them from across the restaurant. Diane sat there, alone at a table, looking her usual elegant self, perfectly styled, holding her cutlery in just the right way, and Tamsin had been transported back to Portugal. After that, try as she might, she’d been unable to focus her attention on Sarah.
Aft
