‘Yes,’ Emma crows. ‘It’s clearly going to be the winner. I’m going to be the best godparentever. And I will be this good every single Christmas and every single birthday, just so you know.’
I narrow my eyes. ‘Are you suggesting that you genuinely believe you’re going to achieve favourite godparent status?’
‘I mean.’ Emma spreads her hands, smug smile still in place. ‘Yes?’
I give a scornful laugh. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure. There are other ways of being the best godparent and I’mallover them.’
‘What are those other ways?’
I have no idea.Obviously,Emma is going to be the favourite godparent. She’d be the favourite in any group and she’s my favourite too, because she’s just perfect and gorgeous, and oh my God I am besotted with her. I love her.
Oh my God, I love her so much. I’m reeling from the magnitude of it.
‘Um,’ I say, trying to recover my wits, ‘I can’t actually divulge my secrets because you might copy them.’
‘Inevercopy.’
I open my mouth to continue, because honestly, Emma and I can talk crap like this for hours and hours and I love doing it and I’m desperate to spend time with her without any stressful deep conversation, but I’m interrupted by a woman I don’t know (in a bright pink all-in-one trouser-and-top garment and a bunny hair-band) coming over and giving Emma an enormous hug.
‘Ems,’ she shrieks.
Emma hugs her back and they exclaim about how they haven’t seen each other for ages and I realise that I should really bow out of the conversation now with good grace.
‘I’ll catch you later,’ I say, before walking away in a daze.
As I go, I think about how we were great together in the summer.
Emma was great. She’s always great.
And I was great insofar as I did not behave like the stupid dick I used to behave like when I was young.
Ilikedthe person I was when we were travelling together. Emma had a good effect on me, made me a better version of myself.
I’ve grown up, I realise. I’ve proved for years now that I can live well. I’m a good father to Thea.
But maybe I haven’t been letting myself have fun. Maybe I’ve been scared that it was having fun that turned me into a complete idiot.
I had a lot of fun with Emma in the summer. The only other person I have that much fun with is Thea.
Oh my God.
I’ve been such an idiot.
I know what I want to do.
I want, very desperately, to talk to Emma.
She is, unfortunately, surrounded by people.
For me, the party is long, because I spend the entirety of it watching Emma while trying not to look as though I’m watching her and instead trying to look engrossed in whatever conversation I happen to be having with some other pink-clothed person.
We go full first-birthday-party.
We play games including pass the parcel and pin the tail on the donkey. Adults as well as children of all ages. (The adults are at least as competitive as the children.)
We eat a lot of pink food on pink plates with pink napkins.
‘Do you think I got the theme right?’ Becca asks me and Azim at one point.
