The bone-tired half of Poppy that just wanted a nice life and to pretend that none of the Declan-probably-having-an-affair thing was happening suddenly took over.
‘Honestly, it’s the thought that counts. Really, thank you.’ She looked again at the pan and thought about the contents of their fridge. There had definitely been chicken in there. But cream… ‘Where did you find the cream?’
‘Those little tubs in the fridge. Looked as though they needed to be used up.’
‘Those werebreast milk.’ She’d thought Daniel might need them while she was out yesterday evening but he’d been fine, so she’d been planning to freeze them for a rainy day but hadn’t got round to it because of the washing machine.
‘Eurgh. No offence, but I don’t want to drink your breast milk.’
Poppy screwed her face up. ‘No. I don’t want you to and I also really don’t want to drink it myself.’
‘That’s my genius,’ Declan said. ‘That’s why I started the fire. So we wouldn’t have to.’
Poppy rolled her eyes and nearly succeeded in producing a proper ‘ha ha, you made a weak joke’ smile. ‘Of course.’
‘I’m going to have it cleared upsoquickly. I’m going to put the kettle on so you can sit in that chair and I will entertain Daniel and feed him and then do his bath and then you and I will have our beans on toast and I will make them genuinely delicious with the addition of some grated cheddar.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You probably won’t be too happy to hear that one of my resolutions was making new meals regularly,’ he told her, seemingly oblivious to the ‘are you having an affair because if so Ihateyou’ vibes that had to be emanating from her.
‘Wow,’ she said, not bothering now to smile because the mention of the resolutions was reminding her so strongly of her secret about him cheating. ‘I had the same one.’
She glanced at him and discovered that he had his lips slightly pressed together and the beginnings of a frown. Not a look he usually wore. Had the mention of resolutions reminded him of the secrets too? Had he written down the counterpart to hers – that he was having an affair?
She closed her eyes for a moment.
Declan’s voice interrupted her misery. ‘I need to record my first new meal for the chat.’ He pulled his phone from his pocket and took a photo.
Poppy’s own phone buzzed and she looked at the picture he’d just sent. Yep, objectively it was funny. The others would probably laugh a lot when they saw it.
It wasn’t funny, though. From the moment they’d met, Declan had literally never once attempted anything more ambitious than beans on toast, his pasta ‘special’ (literally just pasta with peas, tinned tuna and parmesan) and heating up ready meals. It felt like this had been a guilt-resolution and guilt-cookery.
Looking at his back as he began to scrub at the hob, she couldn’t work out which emotion was greater: anger, hurt or just sadness.
Thank heavens she had her friends.
4
GEORGIE
‘What would you like to drink?’ Raf stood up as Georgie walked towards the fireside armchair he’d been lounging in.
‘I’ll get them.’ She got her purse out of her bag. ‘I definitely owe you.’
Raf opted for a pint of bitter. Georgie contemplated a glass of white wine for a second and then ordered a half of lime and soda instead. Her hangover headache still hadn’t totally gone and she’d never been a hair-of-the-dog woman.
‘Not a hardened drinker, then?’ asked Raf, when she sat down opposite him with her drink.
‘No. I like a drink, but I don’t actually drink that much normally.’
‘I got that.’
‘Yep. Anyway, Happy New Year.’
‘Happy New Year to you too,’ he said. ‘How are your resolutions going?’
‘Pretty good so far. I’ve kept all of them all day. As you will have seen from the chat. Only three hundred and sixty-four days to go.’
