Page 34 of Just for the Season

It’s going to be just the four of us – Marcus, Simon, Ellie and me – for the takeaway. Ruby and Sam both have sleepovers again, and Jack’s out with his friends.

‘We won’t both fit in my car,’ I point out. ‘The front passenger seat’s completely full.’

‘I’ll drive behind you in my car now,’ Marcus says.

‘And we’ll wait a few minutes and then join you,’ Simon tells us.

Marcus is amazing at carrying boxes and suitcases up two narrow flights of stairs. I lug bags step by step, and have to stop at least five times each time I go up, for rests. He, meanwhile, just runs up and down, his biceps very nicely flexed, overtaking me several times, until everything’s out of the car and into the flat, with me having done maybe ten per cent of the work that he did.

As I’m getting us both glasses of water to recover from the unpacking (although Marcus doesn’t look like he has anything to recover from), a text comes in from Ellie:

So sorry but I’m not going to make it until later – save some bubbles for me – I’ll be there maybe about nine to help you celebrate your new home

And then about twenty seconds later I get one from Simon:

Hun I am SO sorry – got a hot date this evening – and I mean HOT – he is GORGEOUS – he’s just texted me – he’s only around this evening before he jets off to Chicago – am going to have to bail but see you in the morning for a debrief of BOTH our evenings… because Marcus is hot too… phwoar HAVE FUN.

P.S. You do HAVE to have him in the flat for a couple of hours or tongues might wag. Love you. Have funnnn

P.P.S. I left a bottle of bubbles chilling in the fridge to welcome you. Drink it.

‘Erm,’ I say. ‘Ellie’s coming later and Simon has a date.’

‘Sooo,’ Marcus says, ‘just to clarify, it’s just the two of us?’

‘Yep.’ I wince, and then decide that I’m being silly. I mean, this is not my fault; it’s Simon’s fault. Okay, fine, yes it is my fault in that I started the whole fake-relationship thing, but right now, this evening, it’s Simon’s fault.

In fact… I reread his messages. Is he trying to set me and Marcus up? Seriously. I think he might be. How extremely ridiculous. Does he even really have a date this evening? And what is Ellie doing? Has Simon got her in on this too?

I lift my head from my phone and look at Marcus.

‘Erm…’

‘I should stay,’ he says. ‘For the relationship thing.’

I screw my face up. ‘Would you mind? Just for a bit?’

I look across the room at the big TV hanging on the opposite wall. ‘We could watch a film? Also, I’ve just remembered: Simon pointed out this morning that if we’re going to go to Gran’s party as a, um, couple, we need to make a plan, as in know the answers to a few questions about each other and our relationship.’

‘Good point.’

‘Bubbles?’ I ask. ‘I think it’s the only thing I have to drink currently other than water.’

Marcus opens the bottle – very deftly, I have to say – and then I fill two lime-green-stemmed champagne flutes I’ve just found in a cupboard.

‘I love that Simon has gorgeous glasses like this in the flat he rents out,’ I say.

‘Yes, he definitely likes perfection in all areas.’ Marcus raises his glass. ‘To your new home. Congratulations.’

‘Thank you.’ I have to say Marcus is not the person I would have expected to share this first drink in the flat with, but there you go. Life is just odd sometimes.

I take a drink and say, ‘Mmm, that’s nice.’

‘Simon has good taste.’

‘He does.’ I take another big sip. ‘Yum. Okay. So. Do you have any allergies?’

‘For the takeaway?’