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Joe gips.
I lean into the back seat and take it, not wanting to be rude.
‘Thank you, Frankie! See you tomorrow.’
We watch her stumble into her house still clutching a paper bag filled with food wrappers before the short journey back to Joe’s. Now it’s just the two of us, the as-yet-undiscussed kiss still hanging in the air. I glance back at Joe in the wing mirror, looking for clues as to what he’s thinking, and am hugely relieved to see that he’s fallen fast asleep.
‘Joe. Joe! Wake up, we’re back at yours.’
Nothing. I panic. Is he still alive back there? I hop out of the driver’s seat, open the back door and lean in.
‘Joe!’ I prod.
‘ARGH!’ he shouts, sitting upright so fast we clash heads. Ouch.
‘It’s all right,’ I soothe. ‘We’re home now. You fell asleep in my car.’
Joe looks sheepish as he attempts to walk in a straight line up to his front door and there’s no time for big discussions now, as Denise spots us and ushers us inside.
‘Hello, Mam.’ Joe kisses his mum on the forehead and heads straight for the kitchen to down a pint of water.
‘Uh oh. Good night, was it?’ she asks, with a twinkle in her eye.
‘You know, Sophie’s actually very lovely,’ he calls out from the kitchen. My eyes widen in surprise at the random compliment as Denise beams at me. We cautiously follow Joe into the kitchen, where he is still talking.
‘There’s a hard exterior you have to crack, like a shell or a … a … nut or something. But actually, she’s lovely.’
Oh god. What’s going on here?
‘He’s always been a sweet drunk,’ Denise says, pushing a plate filled with pastries in my direction. ‘I haven’t seen him like this in a while though. What with having to look after Sid all by himself and the responsibilities of parenting, it’s been a long time since he let his hair down.’
‘Mam, I’m right here,’ Joe protests. ‘I can hear everything you’re saying.’
I notice that his accent gets even stronger when he’s around his mum.
‘Ah but will you remember in the morning?’ She chuckles.
Is it wrong that I’m counting on Joe forgetting about the kiss so we don’t have to have any awkward convos tomorrow? Or should I just put my big-girl pants on and chat to him once Denise has gone to bed and he’s sobered up? I decide to polish off an apple Danish and wait it out. It’s delicious.
‘Denise, you really are a great baker. These flavours.’
The compliment lights her up. ‘Thank you. I’d love to have had some formal training and worked in a bakery. I did look into it but we had our children young and Jim’s job was enough to keep us comfortable, so there didn’t seem any point in me going out to work just to afford the childcare costs. And I loved being a mam, especially when the kids were little.’
She ruffles Joe’s hair, which has tumbled across his face, and he pats her on the hand. ‘And now I get to be a grandmother too, which is even better.’
‘It’s never too late,’ I say. ‘What’s stopping you from baking professionally?’
Denise laughs. ‘Sure I wouldn’t know where to start. Right, I’m off. Night you two.’
With Joe’s mum grabbing her stuff and heading home, I realise that now is the time. Oh GOD.
‘Sophie?’ he says, and I spin round to see him leaning against the countertop.
Here goes.
‘Joe.’
‘I think I’m going to be sick?’
