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I laugh and pretend to zip my lips.
‘God, that trip.’ Joe’s eyes mist over with the memories. ‘I did Whitby, for Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and then on to Cumbria for some Beatrix Potter immersion. Haworth for the Brontës …’
And to think he once called me a dork. Suddenly Akoni hoists him up onto his shoulders and the pair stagger around the terrace much to the delight of everyone else out here. It’s an incredible sight because Joe is about six foot and between them … I retreat back to our table, laughing.
‘Joe’s adorable when he’s drunk,’ Mel says to me.
He is adorable, I think with a smile. Despite the prospect of a major hangover tomorrow, Joe hasn’t let his guard slip for a minute and is doing an excellent job at being my pretend boyfriend. He keeps shooting me looks and slinging an arm around my shoulder. I’m very impressed and strangely charmed, to be quite honest.
‘It’s been, what, a couple of months for you two now? That first flush of love is the best, isn’t it?’ chimes in a very drunk Frankie, or at least I think that’s what she says. She’s got her cute eyes on and keeps darting them between me and Joe. ‘JUZZ LOOK AT YOU. Can’t keep your eyes off him,’ she adds with a hiccup.
I guess I have been watching Joe a fair bit this evening.
‘Go and give him a kiss FORGODSAKE,’ Frankie slurs.
‘What?’ I’m startled now. ‘Oh no! I couldn’t! Just look at him! He’s having lots of fun with Akoni. It would be, um, rude to interrupt.’
Even practical Mel isn’t buying this.
‘Go on,’ Frankie rallies. ‘He will love it!’
Oh fuck. What do I do now? They’re all watching me! Even Celeste, although she looks less keen on the plan and more like she’d happily knock me out with her designer handbag. Akoni has now put Joe back on the floor and they’re singing along to a familiar song together. Everyone else’s eyes are on me. And for the life of me, I cannot think of a reasonable excuse not to go and kiss the man who all the mums think is my boyfriend.
So, I’m going to have to do it?
My heart is clamouring as I get up from the table.
Frankie’s clapping her encouragement.
Tally shouts: ‘Oi oi!’
As I walk towards Joe, I decide that a hug and a peck on the cheek should do the trick. With Akoni there as a buffer, I can pretend I kept things chaste for decency’s sake if anyone asks. Joe turns and a huge smile lights up his face when he sees me – a sure sign he’s very drunk and/or still thinking dreamy thoughts about his post-exam literary bender. Phwoar, the Brontës.
‘Sophie!’ he booms, hands in the air.
Then Akoni does the unthinkable. He leaves the dancefloor to find the toilets. I’m almost dumbstruck as I watch him go, time seems to speed up as I now need a new plan and fast. Because right now it’s just me and Joe, with no Akoni as a foil, and a bunch of thirsty mums waiting for a display of affection.
‘Sorry about this,’ I whisper through a smile. ‘Just go with it?’
It’s so loud that I’m not sure if Joe can hear me. He leans closer.
‘Frankie’s demanding a kiss!’ I shout into his ear apologetically. He turns to face me, still looking like he might not have caught the whole thing, but I’m hoping he got the gist because by now I’m so aware that all eyes are on us that I’ve started making moves.
I trace my hand across his stomach and a flash of confusion crosses his face and OH MY GOD this is embarrassing but then my lips are on his and for the briefest moment my mind stills.
The kiss is soft and gentle, like a question between us.
The sensible side of my brain tells me I’ve done what I needed to do, and I should probably pull away. But then time slows down and Joe’s hands trail around my back. We are still kissing and instinctively I press myself closer into him. My fingers itch to track up his neck and into his hair.
A pause in the music gives me time to come to my senses and I pull back even though every inch of my being would prefer to stay right there with Joe.
I feel like I could happily have melted into that moment with Joe. My eyes are wide as I take the smallest of steps back and track my gaze back up to meet Joe’s. His cheeks are flushed and his blue eyes pin me to the spot. He’s looking at me like he’s trying to figure out what I’m thinking. Flustered, I open my mouth, about to explain again why I just did that, but Celeste is now standing with her arms folded right next to us.
‘If you two have quite finished,’ she says sourly, ‘we’ve got Frankie to deal with.’
I look back at our table and see Frankie lying on the floor with a straw hanging out of her mouth. Explanations will have to wait, I think as I rush over to my friend.
‘Frankie,’ I say, feeling protective over her. ‘It’s getting late, love. Nearly eleven. Would you like a lift home?’
