Page 89 of Just for the Season

Marcus leads me over to the table and pulls my chair out for me to sit down, before taking a napkin from the table and laying it on my lap with a flourish.

‘First things first,’ he says, seating himself opposite me. ‘I was entirely in the wrong with carrot-cake-gate. This is all for you.’

‘Finally,’ I say, beginning to smile. I look at the cake. ‘I’d like to share it with you.’

‘I’m honoured.’ He cuts two pieces and lays them on our plates.

‘I love you,’ he says. ‘I’m so sorry that I hurt you.’

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ I know that’s true.

‘Most importantly—’ he has a heartrendingly earnest expression on his face ‘—you are lovable. So indescribably wonderful. I adore your company. Everything about you. I would never leave you by choice.’

‘I love you too,’ I say. This suddenly all seems very straightforward. ‘I’d love to go on a proper date with you.’

Marcus takes my hands in his across the table. ‘Thank you for understanding about the kids. I love you so very much.’

Then he stands up and walks round the table and we kiss and kiss, until I remember the cake and champagne and the effort Simon put into helping and point out that we should have some.

‘Sharing carrot cake with you is a lot more fun than arguing over it,’ Marcus says later, after we’ve eaten and drunk and done al fresco things I never thought I’d do.

‘Mmm.’ I kiss him again. ‘I love you.’

EPILOGUE

FRANKIE – TWO YEARS LATER

‘Congratulations!’ We – Gran and Roderick’s assembled friends and family – all raise our glasses in response to Roderick’s toasting of his wife on her eighty-seventh birthday.

‘Is that champagne?’ Ruby frowns towards my glass.

‘Non-alcoholic,’ I say, smiling at her.

I’m three months pregnant and Ruby and Sam are adorably excited and happy and very eager to help look after me and the baby. They won’t let me carry anything or lift a finger around the house, and Ruby has read up on pregnancy nutrition. Marcus is equally keen to look after me, so basically, if I’m honest, I’m having the time of my life.

For the sake of feminism, I make a token effort every so often to protest that I’m honestly fine, but after a morning-sickness-filled first trimester, and having seen from Ellie and other friends how hard (as well as obviously unbelievably rewarding) it is looking after a newborn, I’m thinking I’ll just take this opportunity to be a little bit spoilt while actually feeling completely fine, other than a bit more tired than usual.

Gran and Roderick do a first dance – it’s their second wedding anniversary as well as Gran’s birthday – and I feel my heart expand with love for them both. It’s so beautiful watching them so happy together. I’m so glad they re-found each other.

‘It was because of our fauxmance that they got together,’ Marcus observes, sliding an arm around my waist.

‘I know. We’re so clever.’

‘You’re clever. That entire thing was your idea.’

‘Very true,’ I say. ‘I’m a genius. And I didn’t even realise at the time how very smart I was being.’

‘I certainly didn’t realise it was genius at the time.’

‘You should always bear in mind that I am always proven right,’ I point out.

‘Indeed I should. Right. Time for us to join them on the dance floor.’ Marcus leads me there, holding me as though I’m an incredibly delicate and precious object, which I have to admit I love. ‘Remember two years ago when we went through the motions of how a real couple would behave. Method acting.’

‘Mmm. And then…’

‘Yeah.’ He smiles. ‘That was a good night.’

I wrap my arms round his neck. ‘So many good nights, and days. Thank you, Marcus.’