Page 32 of Just for the Season

I hold my arms out for a hug and, rather than ignoring me, or indeed actively sneering at me, she actually smiles and steps into them.

‘Love you,’ I tell her.

Who knew that becoming someone’s fake boyfriend could actually improve things between me and my daughter.

11

FRANKIE

‘How’s your love life going?’ Simon asks with a pantomime wink the next morning as I spoon blueberry and lime muffin mixture into cases and he carefully ices a red velvet cake.

‘Very well,’ I say. ‘The unwilling victim is slightly more willing now after I helped him out with a lasagne yesterday evening, and I think he’s all good for Gran’s party.’

‘You know you’re going to have to do some prep before that?’ Simon finishes his cake with a very impressive icing twirl in the middle of it.

‘That’s gorgeous,’ I say admiringly.

‘As is Marcus,’ Simon says.

‘True,’ I admit. He is unquestionably the ultimate personification of tall, dark and handsome. Irrelevant, though. ‘On the prep front, surely there’s no need? I mean, we’ve already crossed the how-did-you-meet bridge with Gran. We can just repeat that, and beyond that what is there to ask people in a new relationship that would catch them out?’

‘I mean… loads? Like…’ Simon ponders for a moment and then starts listing things on his fingers. ‘What have the two of you been up to this week? Are you going to spend Christmas together? Where was your first date? What’s his favourite drink if someone asks you what he’d like? Does he have any food intolerances?’ He pauses and then, with the air of someone pulling a rabbit out of a hat, completes his list with: ‘When’s his birthday and how old is he?’

‘You’d be a nightmare fake-new-boyfriend interrogator,’ I gasp, in horrified awe.

‘I would,’ he confirms. ‘So it’s a good job I know the truth. But I’m not the only interrogator in the village. So you’re going to need to get to know each other a bit better.’

Hmm. He might be right. I don’t really want to text Marcus and ask him to meet, though. I’ve clearly imposed more than enough already.

‘Also,’ continues Simon, ‘just thinking. When you move into the flat at the weekend he’s going to have to help, isn’t he. Otherwise it will look very odd. And people will notice you moving.’

‘I can’t ask him to do that!’

‘I think you’ll have to?’

‘What if—’ I wave a spatula for emphasis, because I think I’m onto a good idea ‘—I move while one of his children has a sports match or something so you help me instead and that’s what we tell people?’

‘But wouldn’t you just choose to move at a different time so that he could help you?’

‘I don’t have that much stuff,’ I say triumphantly. ‘It all fitted in my car. Admittedly it was full to the brim, and all I could see in my rear-view mirror was bags, but it isn’t exactly like when someone needs three large removals lorries.’

‘A carload is still quite a lot when you have to carry it all up two flights of stairs. And your boyfriend would want to help you celebrate your new home. It wouldn’t be normal for him not to be there. And, even if we could in our heads concoct a reason that it had to be during a possibly non-existent sports match, we couldn’t exactly walk round telling people: “Don’t worry, there’s nothing fake about this relationship. Oh no, Marcus would totally be here; it’s just that he’s currently watching his kid play football and this was the only moment that you and I could both do because, er, why?” You’re going to have to ask him to help.’

‘Bloody hell.’

‘I know.’ Simon shakes his head. ‘This is what happens when you start a tangled web. It just gets more tangled.’

‘It isn’t tangled at all,’ I point out. ‘There’s only one lie.’

‘Yeah, whatever, just text him now and explain and ask when would be best for him to help you.’

‘I’ll do it later.’

‘If I were you I’d do it now so he has more notice. If you’re lucky he’ll be going away for the weekend or something.’

‘Oh yes.’ I brighten. ‘Does he often go away for the weekend?’

‘He’s a single dad with two school-age kids and it’s the middle of term. What do you think?’