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‘Absolutely. We don’t need to label it. I have told my sister Poppy that we’re dating – I had to because she sometimes does drop-off and I didn’t want it to get tricky – but I’ve explained that it’s early days and she’s happy to keep it all under wraps.’
‘You’re kind of like an evil mastermind, Sophie.’ Joe looks impressed.
‘Listen, pal, this was your batshit idea, I’m just trying to make it look legit.’
‘I’m eternally grateful. So are you and your sister close?’
‘She’s my only sibling and she’s great. Although some may say we’re too close; I am literally wearing her clothes tonight.’
Joe nods, jotting a couple of things down on his own piece of paper.
‘I’m thirty-three,’ I offer as he fills in the gaps. ‘I went to uni in Exeter, that’s where I met my ex-husband and we were living in London until we split. I moved here to be closer to family while I did the whole getting divorced and giving birth thing.’
‘That sounds like a very intense time,’ Joe says gently.
‘You just do it, don’t you?’ I shrug. ‘I didn’t have an alternative. And honestly, I am so much happier now. I cannot imagine life without Lila. I’d still be in London, living and working with my ex, and now that I’ve experienced this life I can see how little we actually had back then.’
‘You don’t miss him, then?’
‘Not for one second,’ I say immediately and honestly. ‘Sometimes I miss the freedom of life before kids. Getting up when you want, going out for a walk without needing to pack ten snack options, that sort of thing … But not him. Not one bit.’
‘Did you say you worked with your ex, too?’
‘Yup.’ I nod. ‘But that’s a whole other drama and maybe not one for tonight? Besides, we need photos, Joe! Evidence of our date. Pull your most handsome face so it looks like you’re trying to flirt with me.’
As I grab my phone Joe crosses his eyes over and lets his tongue hang out.
‘Phwoar,’ I quip and as he breaks into a smile I take another picture. ‘Much better.’
He starts to do the same and I protest. ‘I think my cheeks are pink from the wine!’
Joe takes a snap anyway and looks at it. ‘You’re good. I think we can call it the first flush of love. Maybe I’ll hashtag the picture with #bacchusbeauty.’
‘Please don’t,’ I say, pretending to barf. We swap social media handles and search for each other on Instagram. I notice that Joe’s account is private.
‘It’s mostly just pictures of me and Sidney goofing around but I keep it private so that my students can’t find me.’
If I’d had Joe as a tutor at uni I’m not sure that I’d have found it so easy to focus on work. I wonder how many of his students fancy him. He accepts my request and I see a cute picture of father and son has garnered a lot of likes.
Joe grimaces. ‘I get most of my likes from the other mums.’
‘I bet you do.’
He flicks through my page, which is where I like to faff around taking arty shots of random things, and says: ‘This works. I can post the cute pictures of us falling in love and you can share more obscure pics of our dates as a little hint of what’s going on? That way we’ll keep our kids’ pictures on my private profile.’
‘Yes, good, I don’t share photos of Lila in public. I don’t like the idea of Mark finding her if he got curious one day.’
Joe nods. Then he leans forward, looks me straight in the eye and drops his voice a notch. ‘So, when do we do it?’
The way he says it catches me completely off guard and I end up spluttering: ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Go Instagram official,’ Joe says after a low rumble of laughter.
‘Oh,’ I flush. For a minute there I thought he meant something entirely different. ‘No time like the present. Actually, wait. I’ve had two wines, Joe. Is this a good idea? I don’t tend to make grand gestures after two wines. I tend to drink a pint of water and get an early night. Besides, we haven’t even finished the questionnaire, let alone started memorising the answers!’
Joe signals to Maggie to pour us another round and tells her she might as well just leave the bottle. I stare at the blank spaces I’ve yet to fill in. Joe eases the questionnaire out from underneath my fingers.
‘This is a good idea,’ he says reassuringly. ‘You’ve already told your sister so we might as well let the Barnaby’s Babes know too.’
