‘Mate. . . you shouldn’t have,’ I say, admiring the dark blue sunray dial and leather strap. ‘Seriously. This is way too much!’
‘No,’ he replies, ‘what it is, is better than that Argos-looking piece of crap you own. Oh, don’t get all teary-eyed, just put it on.’
My stomach sinks as I unbox the watch and wrap it around my wrist. Matt deserves a better friend than me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Harriet and Noel have moved into a charming three-bedroomed semi in Brighton, which gives me two hours on the train journey to plough through some of the work I’ve taken home for the weekend.
‘Need a hand?’ Matt asks, watching me rub my forehead. ‘What are you working on?’
‘Ugh, don’t even ask,’ I reply. ‘Some bullshit merger that sounds fishy as hell. I need to have it ready by Monday.’
‘Want a beer?’ Matt pulls a tin of Heineken from his rucksack. ‘Still cold.’
‘It’s eleven thirty,’ I reply. ‘I think I’ll pass.’
He laughs. ‘Don’t act like a few weeks ago you weren’t drinking Baileys for breakfast.’
‘True,’ I reply, ‘but I wasn’t a formidable, dodgy-merger-organising lawyer back then. Jesus, I never thought I’d miss being Santa.’
‘You’ve only been at this new firm a couple of months mate. Give it time. Kensington Fox was hard going the first few weeks, remember? You’ll settle in.’
Doubtful, I think to myself. Compared to this place, Kensington Fox was practically a summer camp. At least there we were respected. I don’t think my boss has even learned my name yet, given that she just calls me ‘you, over there’.
Matt puts in his AirPods and begins swigging his morning beer while I try to focus. I don’t want my entire weekend at Harriet’s to be spoiled by work.
Soon-to-be dad Noel picks us up from the station in his boring yet dependable Hyundai and drives us to the most middle-aged, white-picket-fenced street I’ve ever seen in my life. We pull up outside a mixed-brick semidetached with a moving truck parked outside.
‘They’re dropping the last of the boxes,’ Noel informs us. ‘You’ll need to excuse the mess. Just head in, I’ll be there in a second.’
Harriet’s ginormous bump greets us first as we step inside. I’m shocked by how big she’s grown. Behind me I hear a concerned-sounding Noel beg the driver to be careful with his computer desk.
‘Yay, you’re here!’ she says, leaning in sideways for a hug. ‘Sorry it’s a tip, we thought we’d be far more organised by now. I can’t lift anything, so Noel’s been left with most of it.’
‘Jesus, Harry,’ Matt exclaims, ‘are you having twins? There must be at least two fully grown humans in there.’
‘Nope, just one,’ she replies. ‘And before you ask, we don’t know the sex. I want to be surprised.’
‘Surprised that it’s twins?’
‘Shut up, Matt.’
Apart from a few boxes, the house is actually tidier than ours, which is somewhat embarrassing. Even a heavily pregnant woman and her anxious husband are more diligent than we are.
‘Wow,’ I say, as we walk into a living room straight out ofHomes & Gardens. Jesus, they even have an open fireplace. ‘This is impressive.’
‘Nice floors,’ Matt remarks. ‘The last time I saw this much hardwood was in Nick’s browser history.’
‘Shocking, eh?’ Harriet replies. ‘Who’d have thought I’d end up barefoot and pregnant in suburbia with a fucking conservatory and monoblocked driveway. They did leave us the hot tub, though I’m not stepping foot in it until it’s been fumigated. I know what these middle-class Brightonians are like: it’s all pampas grass and bowls of car keys; fuck knows what they did in there.’
‘It suits you,’ I tell her, peering through the window in search of swinger paraphernalia. ‘God, with Greta married and Matt meeting Sarah, it looks like I’m the only one still to become a functioning member of society.’
‘Ah, yes!’ Harriet exclaims, throwing her gaze at Matt. ‘I heard about this new woman! This baby has made me miss all the good gossip. I demand to know everything!’
‘Let me get my coat off, Harry,’ Matt replies. ‘Besides, Nick’s Angela fiasco is far more interesting. . .’
I roll my eyes as Harriet focuses back on me. He is the master of deflection.
