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Mrs Flowers is visibly melting while I positively seethe with annoyance. Of course Joe has changed his mind, again. I mean, I do know that I wanted him to help but it’s just the way he’s going about it. Urgh. He just loves being a saviour, doesn’t he? After all, the challenges of fatherhood are so easy for him! Why not chuck in an afternoon spent farting about selling cakes for good measure? Does the man not have a job?
I realise I’m staring at him. He’s fixed me with his unnervingly blue eyes and a small smile plays around his lips like a challenge. I can’t back out now.
‘Wonderful!’ Mrs Flowers is thrilled. ‘Could you meet up at the school hall at three p.m. to help set up? You guys are stars.’
‘See you then, Sophie,’ is Joe’s parting shot.
Bugger off, I don’t say back.
I work relentlessly, fuelled by coffee and the couple of Babybels I found lurking in the fridge earlier. There’s one last job that I know I won’t finish but, when it’s time to head back to school again, I feel vaguely satisfied that I’ve got as much as I can get done in such a short window.
Naturally Joe has arrived before me. I find him lining up trestle tables in the school hall.
‘Hello,’ I say briskly, intent on Getting Through This.
‘Hi,’ he replies, amused.
Have I done something funny?
‘You just missed Mrs Flowers, she’s asked us to get the tables lined up, clear the chairs and then start displaying all the bakes.’ He nods in the direction of another table piled high with cakes.
‘Great, I’ll stack the chairs. And, um, thanks for helping me out,’ I add, somewhat begrudgingly. I swear his chest puffs out at this.
I busy myself with setting up but every now and then I catch Joe looking over in my direction. Eventually I stop stacking and stare back.
‘Do I have something on my face?’ At this specific moment my stomach rumbles emphatically. ‘It can’t be food because as you can probably hear, I didn’t have time for lunch.’
‘Nope. I just haven’t seen a person carting chairs about in heels that high before.’ He grins irritatingly.
‘Yes well, there’s a lot I can do in heels,’ I reply, before recognising that this sounds mildly suggestive.
Joe looks thrilled at this admission.
‘I bet.’ He practically smirks. ‘Do you have any gaffer tape?’
‘Pardon?’ I splutter. Is this man making some kind of sex joke? Because there will be no role play with gaffer tape at this afternoon’s bake sale, thank you very much, Joe.
‘This table has a huge crack in it, look.’
Oh, right. Not an innuendo then. Just me jumping to conclusions.
I stalk over to see what he’s talking about. ‘So it does. Alas I don’t have any heavy-duty Sellotape about my person today.’
‘Wow, easily irritated I see.’ He spikes up an eyebrow.
I am NOT easily irritated. It makes me want to goad him further.
‘Do you have any red and blue Sharpies on you? No other colour or brand will do. I’m writing out cake labels.’
‘Actually yes.’ Joe grabs his rucksack and pulls out a handful of colourful pens. He looks so pleased with himself I find my eyes narrowing. Damn it.
‘Thank you,’ I say curtly as he hands them over. Then he finds a roll of Sellotape on a nearby desk and starts tearing off strips with his teeth.
‘Sidney talks about Lila a lot,’ Joe says after a pause, and I find myself softening at the thought of Lila making friends at school. I’m also still very prickly what with Joe being Extremely Annoying and therefore too stubborn to reply.
‘It’s okay if Lila hasn’t mentioned Sid,’ he carries on. ‘You don’t need to feel bad.’
This man! The nerve of making assumptions and forgiving me for something that hasn’t actually happened!
