‘That’s brilliant!’ Niamh cried through a mouthful of pasta. ‘Ah, Rose, I’m made up for you.’
‘Thanks,’ Rosie said, grinning. ‘Believe it or not, the day job helped. I’ve spent a lot of time connecting with people on the phone …’
‘Excellent. What did James say when he heard the news?’
Rosie took a sip from her wine glass and considered how best to respond. Niamh tipped her head to one side, regarding her quizzically.
‘Er. Well. The whole thing had sort of slipped his mind,’ Rosie said eventually.
A line appeared between Niamh’s eyebrows and the corners of her mouth turned down.
‘OK,’ she said, seeming annoyed. ‘So he can remember the exact mix of different nutrients in his favourite brand of protein powder, but he can’t rememberthis? It’s a big deal for you.’
Rosie tore a corner off her garlic ciabatta and chewed it thoughtfully. ‘Not ideal, I agree. But he has hadloadsgoing on lately. He’s been in his own head a lot.’
Niamh scoffed at this, and Rosie sensed she was reining in a major rant.
‘I’ve actually started to wonder if, with the promotion, and the eating, he’s started to think about the future more.Ourfuture.’
‘Do you mean … you think he’s finally going to propose?’ Niamh’s jaw seemed to slacken with shock.
‘I dunno. Maybe? Fingers crossed, I guess,’ Rosie said. ‘It is our ten-year anniversary next month. And I seem to recall you telling me Brendan got all weird when you went on that holiday to Barbados, right before he asked you to marry him.’
Niamh smiled indulgently at the memory. ‘He did, the absolute plank. I freaked out on the last day because I thought he was going to dump me – he’d been sooffthe whole time we were there … I was screaming at him about how he’d never find anyone better, and he said, “I know, that’s why I’m trying to work up the courage to propose to you.” And then he showed me the ring. He’d been carrying it around for almost a fortnight, trying to find the perfect moment.’
‘So romantic,’ Rosie sighed, glancing at the glittering emerald on her friend’s left hand.
Niamh snorted. ‘Romance is in pretty short supply in our house these days,’ she said. ‘As is sleep.’
Rosie wasn’t surprised that Niamh hadn’t asked whether she’d accept James’s proposal, should it materialise. The answer was obviously yes.
Rosie had spent the past few years wondering if and when James might feel ready to take what, for her, had always been the next logical step in their relationship. After getting married, she hoped they’d have children – even though Niamh’s recent experience of pregnancy and early motherhood had been intense to witness, never mind live through.
Niamh and Brendan, her husband of three years, had ten-month-old twins. Eva and Rory were Rosie’s honorary niece and nephew, and she loved them to pieces – but she didn’t envy her friends the prolonged period of broken nights, blurry days and endless bottle feeding they’d been through in the months since the twins’ arrival. Niamh was back at work now, trying to navigate a new normal, but the babies still weren’t good sleepers. Rosie inspected her friend’s face as they ate, noting the shadows beneath Niamh’s eyes and the new, enhanced sharpness of her cheekbones.
‘How is everything, with you being back at work?’ Rosie asked.
‘Oh, it’s fine,’ Niamh said airily. ‘All good. An adjustment, but everyone will get used to it.’ Rosie noted her firm and final tone, and elected to hold back her questions about how Niamh was managing, for now.
The waitress returned to clear their plates, and two portions of tiramisu were ordered.
‘I know what I’ve been meaning to ask you,’ Niamh said a few minutes later, through a mouthful of espresso-soaked sponge, chocolate and cream. ‘What’s the latest on Nameless Neighbour?’
‘He isn’tnameless,’ Rosie said, rolling her eyes. ‘We just don’t know what he’s called.’
‘He’s so mysterious,’ Niamh murmured. ‘So enigmatic. So …fit.’
Rosie laughed. ‘You literally saw him for about thirty seconds in the corridor.’
‘Which was plenty long enough to determine that he is, objectively, the best-looking man I’ve ever seen in real life.’
‘What about Brendan?!’ Rosie demanded, scandalised.
‘Oh, Brendan’s handsome, he’s lovely, I adore him, blah blah blah. But your man in the flat upstairs? He’sHollywood-hot. What is it that’s written on his post again?’
‘Everything I’ve ever seen comes addressed to “A. Thomas”,’ Rosie said.
‘And you’ve no idea what the “A” stands for, even though he’s lived upstairs since June? That’s, what … three months?’
