‘I don’t mean to be rude, Dylan, but Peter’s due any minute to collect Grace and I’m running late and, GRACE, STOP SLIDING IN YOUR SOCKS AND GET YOUR SHOES ON.’
‘You seem a tad stressed. Look, go and finish getting ready and I’ll sort the food out. Will that help? You won’t even know I’m here.’
‘Why are you doing this?’ I ask, genuinely confused. ‘What, are we mates now?’
‘Maybe,’ he says, considering. ‘But I think the most obvious reason is that I want a look at this Tom guy.’
‘No. No way!’ I panic. ‘You have to leave before he gets here.’
‘You’re wasting valuable drying time arguing with me, Cat. Unless your hair is meant to look like that?’
‘Fine! Help if you want to.’ I throw my arms up in the air and head back into my bedroom; he carries on down the hall towards the kitchen. ‘GRACE! Come and sit in here with me until your dad comes.’
‘But why?’ she moans from the living room. ‘I’m watching Adventure Time.’
‘Because your mother doesn’t trust me not to teach you swear words!’ Dylan yells from the kitchen.
Grace slopes through and glowers at me for the whole time it takes to dry my hair, but I can live with that. I decide on my blue lace top and skinny jeans; sexy but still casual. I appease a disgruntled Grace by letting her play with my make-up while I do my own face. Finally Peter rings the buzzer (forty minutes late) and Grace is free to leave my evil clutches. At least this time I’m dressed when I open the door. I can hear Dylan moving around in the next room.
‘Hi, Cat, is Grace ready?’
‘Yes, she’s just grabbing her bag.’ I’d normally invite him in to wait, but no fucking way after his reaction on parents’ night. ‘She hasn’t had dinner; she wanted to eat with you.’
Grace pushes past me, carrying her schoolbag and a cuddly tiger. ‘Let’s go, Dad! See you tomorrow, Mum!’
I wave her off and stare down the hall towards the kitchen. One down, one to go.
Determined to be firm with Dylan, I throw open the kitchen door, ready to tell him to go home . . . but am surprised to find myself stuck to the spot, grinning like an idiot.
In the time it’s taken me to get ready, he’s prepared a salad and set the table in a way that makes my cheap plates look almost classy. He’s taken the small blue tea-light holders from the living room and placed them in the centre of the table, and now he’s scooping the Bolognese into a pot, ready to be reheated. He has his back to me, but he knows I’m there. ‘OK, Cat. You’re all set. Do your spaghetti ten mins before you eat.’
He lifts the salad bowl and places it between the tea lights as a final touch. ‘Not bad, eh?’
‘I’m speechless,’ I reply. ‘And very grateful. Why are you staring at me?’
He shakes his head, ‘Am I? Sorry. It’s just those jeans. Damn.’
‘Thank you! I’m glad they’re having such an impact on you. Hopefully Tom will – oh shit, what time is it?’
I look at the kitchen clock. 7.15. There’s still time to get Dylan out of here before –
The sound of the buzzer makes me jump. He’s early. WHY IS HE EARLY? Dylan begins laughing. ‘Ha ha, oh no, Cat, it’s too late. Here’s here! Now I get to meet loverboy. However will you explain me? Should I stay for dinner? Maybe he won’t notice.’
My heart is in my mouth. The buzzer goes again. Twice.
‘Stay in here. I need to answer the door. AND STOP LAUGHING.’
I gallop down the hall and grab the handset. ‘Hello? Hi, Tom, I’ll let you in.’
I try to calm myself down. Maybe I can sneak Dylan out while Tom is in the living room. It’s worth a shot.
Seconds later Tom knocks on the door. When I answer it I give him my best smile. He’s wearing a dark blue suit and carrying flowers and wine. He’s like a fucking advert for perfection. He steps inside – men who look like Tom don’t need an invitation.
‘You look nice, Cat.’ He hands me the flowers and then bends in and kisses me on the cheek. ‘I feel a little overdressed, but I came straight from a meeting.’
‘You’re beautiful.’ Oh shit shit shit. I’m flustered.
‘I mean, they’re beautiful!’ I back-pedal. ‘The flowers – and you look great too. Come through to the living room and I’ll put these in some water.’
