Page 110 of The Wedding Forecast

‘Not be here,’ I say, but when I try to hand Birdie over, she screams.

Hayley gives me a panicked look. She doesn’t want Joel to arrive to his child screaming.

‘I’ll stay,’ I say, as Luke goes to open the door.

‘Thank you,’ Hayley says. ‘And I’m sorry I’m so pushy and interfering.’

‘If you didn’t care about my life, who would?’ I say.

‘The mums,’ she says, smiling as Joel walks into the room. He startles when he sees Birdie on my lap.

‘Hey,’ he says in a soft, tender voice, and for a brief second, I think he’s talking to me, and I’m horrified, and then I realise that’s his Birdie voice. He picks her up.

‘She wouldn’t let anyone hold her except for Anna,’ Hayley says, sounding defensive.

‘Sorry,’ I say, even though I’m not sure what I’m apologising for.

‘Yeah, she’s very picky. She has very strong opinions about people. I should have warned you,’ Joel says. He looks at me, his face unreadable. ‘I guess she must love you.’

‘Lucky me,’ I say.

Is there always going to be an undercurrent of tension between us, I wonder. Probably. My wounds have healed but they’re still there.

‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘For looking after her.’

‘My pleasure,’ I say. ‘She’s the cutest.’

I didn’t change her nappy, I tell myself later. I didn’t change my ex-boyfriend’s baby’s nappy. I still have some dignity.

That afternoon, I message Mac, not sure if I am expecting an answer since it’s the middle of the night for him, but then my phone is ringing and his name appears on my screen.

‘Hi,’ I say.

‘Hey,’ he says. His voice is rougher, huskier, than usual.

‘You’re drunk,’ I say.

‘Not terribly,’ he says. ‘A little. I just got home.’ We rarely talk during his night. He’s been doing a new play, a smaller role this time, but at a bigger venue. The run has just ended and now he’s looking for his next thing.

‘Tell me about your night.’

He tells me a long story, about friends getting lost, and a strange couple having a fight in a bar, and I can feel my whole body relaxing, listening to him. He’s chattier than usual, chattier in a different way.

‘Do you think your book will be published in the US?’ he asks me, out of nowhere.

‘No,’ I say. ‘Or maybe, but unlikely. I’ll send you a copy though.’

‘I was hoping you would come here on a tour. I could be your minder.’

‘What would that involve?’

‘Oh the usual. Dinners. Chauffeuring you around. Keeping your fans at bay. Making sure you are satisfied in every way.’

I laugh.

‘I think the most glamorous event I’m going to have is a launch with about thirty people and some cupcakes.’

‘At your shop?’