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Poppy shoves me to one side and takes charge of the tea.
‘His hair is immaculate, though. Besides, we’re running out of options here, Soph.’ She gives the teabags a squeeze.
‘That’s a good thing! That means you should stop trying, not start scraping the barrel. Honestly, Pop, Paul was awful. His trousers were so tight that he could barely walk.’
‘Bit judgemental.’
‘Wait until you hear the rest.’ I wag my finger at her before going through the sheer extent of the awfulness. As I talk my sense of indignation builds. Poppy listens to this post-date debrief in silence, her facial expressions running the gamut from horrified to amused and back again.
‘Oh Soph, I am sorry,’ she says, carrying our tea into the living room.
‘You should be,’ I say, following with the chocolates. ‘He showed me a photo of himself spread across his Lamborghini in nothing but a pair of very tight underpants.’
Poppy stuffs her hand into her mouth to stop from laughing any harder and it’s not long before I’m doing the same in spite of myself. As we tuck ourselves under a blanket Poppy turns to me with an earnest look. ‘I thought he’d make a good match but I suppose I don’t know him that well,’ she concedes, biting her lip. ‘We bump into each other at the gym sometimes and he always seemed friendly enough. I am appalled about what he said about the gap between your teeth. I love that gap.’
To be fair to her, she looks full of regret and quite crestfallen.
‘Don’t be sad, Pop. I appreciate that you want what’s best for me but,’ deep breath, time for some honesty, ‘it’s time to accept that what’s best for me is going on no dates whatsoever. They’ve all been hideous.’
‘You make it sound like you’re out every night. This is only the third date I’ve organised.’
‘In one month!’ I protest. ‘I’ve been out more this past four weeks than I have in the last five years combined and each one has been repugnant.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘Clearly it’s a no to Paul but what about the other two? You’re always coming up with crap excuses! Your main reason for rejecting Rich was that he “smelt too meaty”. And remind me what the problem was with James again?’
‘He didn’t eat vegetables.’
‘Case closed, your honour.’
‘Case very much still open. Is it so wrong that I don’t want to date a dude with possible vitamin deficiencies? What you’re failing to grasp is that I’m happy with my life as it is, Pop. Also Rich’s main problem was the fact that he didn’t like children. So I don’t think that’s a “crap excuse” given that I do have one of my own, remember?’
Poppy’s face breaks into a smile.
‘Lila was superlative tonight,’ she says. ‘I took her for pizza and she spent the whole time telling me how she plans to be a unicorn called Deborah Davenport when she’s older. She’s got Deborah’s wardrobe planned out and it sounds amazing.’
I chuckle. ‘Thank you for babysitting.’
‘It’s honestly a pleasure. Lila is my favourite human.’
‘She’s lucky to have you.’
‘It also means that I get to sleep here in your fresh bed sheets and use your expensive beauty products. And you do make excellent pancakes for breakfast …?’
Sometimes it feels like I have two young children to look after. Lila in reception class at school and Poppy, aged twenty-nine, equally as jubilant, carefree and demanding. I guess that’s what happens when you’re mortgage free and going through a “rebrand” as she calls it. Poppy spent most of her twenties working like a dog in client liaison for a big bank, earning eye-watering amounts for entertaining clients on yachts in Monaco or flying first class to Switzerland for meetings. But she was also never ever off duty. She had to abandon countless family Christmases at the whim of her clients. By twenty-seven she quit before she burnt out and moved back to Bristol.
‘So you’re staying over then?’ I cock an eyebrow.
‘Obviously.’
‘Maybe next time we could have a night in together? It’s been ages since we hung out and talked about something other than men. I’d love to settle down for a good old chat about politics or the price of a pint of milk these days.’
Poppy scrunches up her face. ‘You’ll be too busy going on your next date.’
‘Poppy, no. Tonight’s fiasco with Paul was the final straw. I refuse to do this anymore. There will be no more set-ups,’ I say as firmly as possible.
Poppy nods. ‘I hear you and I agree.’
‘You do?’
